Did you find the clues I left in my songs? I left so many. It started as a coping mechanism, an outlet for the overwhelming emotions of missing you. But then somewhere along the way, I hoped maybe they’d lead you to me. I was inspired by the Beatles, of course. You remember, right? All the stories Mom told us?
I hope you being here doesn’t mean you were agonizing over me all these years, though, missing me like I missed you. When Faye “died” and I became Harlow, you were happy, had your life together. That had been my only solace, that you had Matt—your own life, unchained from me. Your reckless little sister.
God, I’ve dreamed of this day for so long. To hug you again. Tell you everything—the good and the bad. Tell you I’m sorry. How I missed you every single day. How you’d been my muse.
But the problem with that is then you’d know what I really am: A killer.
For so long, I tried to think of ways to tell you. To let you know I was alive. But I swore to Sam I wouldn’t tell a soul. He said the only way this could work is if everyone thought Faye Barnes was dead instead of Harlow Hayes. It was either that or prison.
But as I replay the video and hear you utter my real name for the first time in years, I know it can’t wait.
Chapter 42
Naomi locks the doors the second she’s back in her rental car, hand shaking wildly as she attempts to put the key in the ignition.
“Breathe,” she tells herself. The engine roars to life and she puts her seatbelt on, allowing herself one final look at the house before reversing. A misty fog has settled on the property, and she imagines her sister striding through it. But Faye is nowhere to be seen.
Naomi has half a mind to make a break for it, bang on the front door, but she knows tonight is a lost cause. She needs to retreat. Clear her head and try again once she has a better plan, especially now that she knows Sam will be watching her.
Rain starts to fall as she pulls onto the main road, heading toward the interstate.
As she speeds down the highway, she tries to formulate a plan. But she’s defeated. If she was right, then why would he let her go?
She flicks her windshield wipers on full power as the rain turns to a heavy downpour, squinting as a pair of bright high-beams blind her in the rearview mirror.
“Fuckin’ asshole,” she mutters, trying to stay focused.
But the car continues to distract her, getting closer with every passing moment, until it’s tailgating her. She’s tempted to brake-check the driver, wondering who it could be. An idiot teenager? A drunk driver? She continues to drive, both hands tightly gripped to the wheel.
Or is it him?
Naomi accelerates at the thought, desperate to put more space between them. She’s going far too fast for the inclement weather as she approaches a bend, panicking as she presses the brakes. But the car continues at pace. She hits the brakes harder, but once again the car doesn’t slow. She’s overwhelmed with fear as the car hydroplanes, realizing that if she dies, she might never learn the truth.
But there’s nothing she can do now except brace for impact as her car spins off the road, straight into the trees.
Harlow
I grab my jacket and keys and head outside, ready to find you. But Sam’s car is gone. Your car is gone. The hairs on my arms stand on high alert as a new panic sets in and my gut tells me that something is terribly wrong.
I click back into the camera footage, fast-forwarding until I see you leaving, and then peel out in the same direction, praying I’m not too late.
As I race down the road, my stomach twists into knots, thinking of Sam.He wouldn’t. Would he?
But he was so adamant about no one ever knowing, especially you…
A wave of guilt washes over me as I realize what I put you through. At least I got to live with the hope that we’d reunite one day. But I took any shred of hope away from you.
I’m so sorry, Naomi.
I slow down, seeing headlights up in front of me as I reach the bend in the road. I squint, trying to make out the cars in the unrelenting rain. A black Mercedes. Sam’s car.
My heart pounds as I pull in behind it and turn my high-beams on to see what’s going on. And that’s when my worst nightmare becomes a reality. When I see a white Jeep wrapped around a tree.
Ringing is all I hear as the nausea consumes me. I can’t breathe, gasping for air as I take in the scene. I will myself to focus. Convince myself that panicking isn’t going to solve anything. And somehow, I manage to calm down just enough to call for help, while I still have the chance.
I fumble with my phone, shaking as I draft a text to Jen, my assistant. “SOS. Send private ambulance. No police!”
I hit send, knowing I don’t have much time. I take short, quick breaths as I share the pin location. I want to wait, to see if she received it. But there isn’t time because Sam is almost at my door. I slide my phone into my pocket and open the door to the smell of damp earth and rubber. All I hear is the sound of rain and crunching rocks. Sam steps closer now, an umbrella shielding him from the downpour.
