I knew more about her for never having spoken to her. We didn't need to. Because the way she looked at me sometimes, that said it all. She wanted me. She didn't mind that I'd stop by her apartment late, or that I'd watch her sleep, buried under her gray blanket, while the stars strung around her room blinked on and off to the rhythm of her breathing.


17. Adam

I couldn't get the blood off my hands. I was still washing them when I turned on the news. And found out that what I had done had been discovered

The body of Katherine Wilk was found...stab suspects.

My head hurt. The images of her body, soaked in blood, kept repaying. Over and over and over.

The only person who had even tried to help me—who tried to fix me—had paid the price.

Katherine didn't know that Avery barely knew me; she thought we had been together a long time. Because that's what I wanted her to believe. I could be very convincing when I wanted.

And when she asked if Avery knew that I was sick, she was talking about something else. Some illness that she thought was true. I played her so easily, and she fell for my weak, troubled persona.

After all, I was a brilliant actor.

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