was that even possible?
In a voice that shook with both anger and self-pity, she asked …
“Why do you hate me?”
The man chuckled louder this time.
He said, “Everybody hates you.”
Janet was having trouble seeing now. Her vision wasn’t getting blurry. Instead, the scene in front of her seemed to be twitching and bouncing and jumping. She imagined she could hear her eyeballs rattling around in their sockets.
So when she saw another clown’s face, she thought she was seeing double.
But she quickly realized …
This face is different.
It was painted with the same colors, but with somewhat different shapes.
It isn’t him.
Under the paint lay familiar features.
Then it dawned her …
Me. That’s me.
The man was holding a mirror up to her face. The hideously garish face she saw was her own.
The sight of that twisted, tearful, yet mocking countenance filled her with a loathing she’d never known before.
He’s right, she thought.
Everybody hates me.
And I’m my own worst enemy.
As if sharing her disgust, the creatures under her skin scurried all about like cockroaches suddenly exposed to sunlight but with nowhere to run and hide.
The man set the mirror aside and began to stroke her face with the knife point again.
He said yet again …
“They’re going to leave you behind.”
As the knife passed over her throat, it occurred to her …
If he cuts me the insects can escape.
Of course the blade would also kill her. But that seemed a small price to pay to be free of the insects and this terror.
She hissed …
“Do it. Do it now.”
Suddenly, the air was filled with ugly and distorted laughter, as if a thousand clowns were noisily gloating in her plight.
The laughter propelled her heart to pound still harder and faster. Janet knew her heart couldn’t possibly take much more of this.
And she didn’t want it to.
She wanted it to stop as soon as possible.
She found herself trying to count the beats …
One, two … three, four, five … six …
But the beats were coming both faster and less regularly.
She wondered—which was going to explode first, her heart or her brain?
Then finally she heard her very last heartbeat, and the world dissolved.
CHAPTER ONE
Riley laughed when Ryan snatched the box of books away from her.
She said, “Just let me carry something, OK?”
“It’s too heavy,” Ryan said, carrying the box over to the empty bookshelf. “You shouldn’t be lifting it.”
“Come on, Ryan. I’m pregnant, not sick.”
Ryan put the box down in front of the bookshelf and brushed off his hands.
“You can take out the books and put them on the shelf,” he said.
Riley laughed again.
She said, “You mean you’re giving me permission to help move into our apartment?”
Ryan looked embarrassed now.
“That’s not what I meant,” he said. “It’s just that—well, I worry.”
“And I keep telling you, there’s nothing to worry about,” Riley said. “I’m only six weeks along, and I feel great.”
She didn’t want to mention her occasional bout of morning sickness. So far it hadn’t been very severe.
Ryan shook his head. “Just try not to overdo it, OK?”
“I won’t,” Riley said. “I promise.”
Ryan nodded and went back over to the pile of boxes yet to be unpacked.
Riley pried open the cardboard box in front of her and started putting books on the shelves. She was actually happy to be sitting still and doing a simple job. She realized her mind needed the rest more than her body did.
The last few days had been a whirlwind.
In fact, so had the last couple of weeks.
Her graduation with a psychology degree from Lanton University had been a crazy, life-changing day. Right after the ceremony, an FBI agent had recruited her for the bureau’s ten-week Honors Internship Summer Program. Right after that, Ryan had asked her to move in with him when he started his new job.
The amazing thing was that both her internship program and Ryan’s new job were in Washington, DC. So she hadn’t had to make a choice.
At least he wasn’t freaked out when I told him I was already pregnant, she thought.
In fact, he’d seemed delighted at the time. He’d gotten a bit more nervous about the idea of a baby in the days since graduation—but then, Riley felt plenty nervous about it herself.
The very thought of it boggled her mind. They were just getting started in their lives together, and they’d soon be sharing the greatest responsibility Riley could imagine—raising their own child.
We’d better be ready, Riley thought.
Meanwhile, she felt strange putting her old psychology textbooks onto the shelves. Ryan had tried to talk her into selling them, and she knew that she probably should …
God knows, we need every cent we can get.
Still, she had a feeling she’d be needing them in the future. She wasn’t sure just why or what for.
Anyway, the box also contained a lot of Ryan’s law books, and he hadn’t even considered selling any of them. Of course, he probably would be using them in his new job as an entry-level attorney in the DC law firm of Parsons and Rittenhouse.
When the box was empty and the books all on the shelves, Riley sat on the floor watching Ryan, who kept restlessly pushing and repositioning pieces of furniture as
