“It’s the perfect therapy. I mean, you taste better, but….”
“Can you not embarrass me?”
“I thought you wanted me to tell the truth.”
She shakes her head, waving me off. A few minutes later, she bends over, reaching into her purse, removing an envelope. “I do.”
My chest tightens.
“Can I trust you?” She stares at the envelope for a hot minute before handing it to me. “I… I found this at my house,” she says, the words frayed at the edges.
It says Annika on the outside. And when I open it, I read the line.
Once.
Twice.
My jaw clenches.
You were always good at pretending nothing happened.
My eyes drift to hers.
Does someone know that we slept together? Or does she think I wrote the note?
“What does this mean?”
It’s not often that I see a crack in her composure, but I see just enough to know she’s rattled.
“This is the other reason I canceled your appointment,” she says, her words heavy and drawn out. “I think I’m being watched.”
“How? Why?”
“I don’t know.”
I turn and grab her hands in mine. “Do you have any idea who sent this?”
“No,” she says again as I squeeze her hands tighter to keep them from shaking.
“Annika.” I’m not sure how to respond. “Do you think you’re in danger?”
She nods. “Please don’t call me Annika. You know how I said I changed my name?”
My brows shoot up. “Yeah.”
“I didn’t change my name. I erased it. There’s no trace of me in America anymore.”
I frown. “What? Why?”
Who in the world meets a girl who erased her past, other than me? It feels like I’m living inside the pages of a thriller novel.
“Records. Documentation no longer exists for Annika Pencheski.”
My blood pumps furiously through my veins. This isn’t at all what I expected when she came over tonight. A session? Maybe? But telling me she isn’t who she is, that’s on a whole other level.
“That’s not something a normal person does without a reason.” My thumbs swipe over her hand.
“I know.”
