And just when Lila thought she had found rock bottom, a place so low that her world could not hold any greater pain, there came a morning when she woke up naked in the backseat of her car. No one believed her—not even, it seemed, the detective assigned to investigate her abduction. Lila wanted to cry as she told him what happened, but she couldn’t. When she reached for emotion—any emotion—she found nothing. So she stared at the floor and told him what little she remembered.

In the days and weeks that followed, a vile rage began to spread through Lila’s veins, thickening her blood and filling her chest to the point that she could barely breathe. Her world became a muddle of emotion and chaos, all of it straining for release. Crying did nothing, and screaming only made it worse.

Lila’s mother kept a utility knife in the kitchen, a packet of clean blades tucked inside its handle. Lila took one of the blades to her bedroom one night and examined it through her tear-filled eyes, the light dancing off the razor’s fine edge. She put the blade against her tongue and tasted the steel. Then, with her bedroom door locked, she pulled the blade across her left biceps, pausing halfway into the cut to let a wave of nausea pass. The bite of the razor chased a pathway of nerves straight to her heart, jolting her with a mixture of pain and pleasure—and release.

Days later, when she cut herself the second time, there had been no hesitation, no nausea, and the relief she felt didn’t quite give her the same kick. Five more times, she pulled that razor blade across her arm, the respite from her anguish shrinking with each new incision until it seemed little more than an exercise for drawing blood.

But the rage persisted—and Lila found her mother’s pills.

How many Ambien would it take? Were there enough in the bottle? Could a person even overdose on Ambien? Lila would soon find answers to those questions. She had downed the pills with vodka and lain on her bed, no note to explain why. When she awoke in the Hennepin County Medical Center, Dr. Stephen Roberts had been at her side.

Lila typed Dr. Roberts’s number into her phone and held her thumb over the send button, contemplating the hell out of which she had climbed. Phantoms of those dark days once again whispered in her ear, their soft voices tightening ropes around her chest. But something about Gavin Spencer had opened a door, and she had to find out why.

She closed her eyes and pressed the send button.

Chapter 26

Chapter 26