Page 74

Gabriel shook his head. “You’re not responsible for what happened.” He held out his phone to Zane. “But can you confirm that this is your ex-wife?”
He took the phone and studied the picture for a brief moment. “No, that’s not Cassandra.” He glanced down at the screen again. “It looks a little like her, but it’s definitely not her.”
Blythe and Gigi exchanged glances.
“Julian Hunter claims that she had a bad car accident, and her face needed to be reconstructed,” Ed said. “Is it at all possible that this could be her, after a round of plastic surgery?”
Zane’s brows knit together. “Let me look again.” He enlarged the picture and shook his head more vehemently. “Unless the car accident changed her cheekbones, and made her eyes go from brown to green, it couldn’t be her.” His face went white. “If Julianis pretending that the woman you know is Cassandra, what happened to my ex-wife?”
“I don’t know, but we need to get to Boston. Now,” Ed said. “Something is very wrong.”
Blythe’s stomach was in knots as they all gathered their things to leave. She hoped they weren’t too late.
− 61 −
Cassandra
I close my eyes for a moment, squeezing them shut so hard that it hurts, and ready myself to take the pills. As I breathe deeply and slowly, building my courage, I feel Julian’s hand on my shoulder and shudder. He’s telling me it’s time. I open my eyes and look at the mound of white pills resting in the palm of my hand, and then raise my eyes to the ceiling, hoping that a feeling of peace will descend.
Instead of feeling a calming sensation, I spot something in the upper corner, where the walls meet. I blink, squinting to make sure it’s what I think it is. An understanding begins to dawn on me.
Julian’s hand tightens on my shoulder. He moves in front of me and thrusts the water glass into my other hand. But I don’t swallow the pills. The infinitesimally small camera mounted in the corner tells me that I’m not crazy or paranoid. He’s been spying on me. Out of the corner of my eye, I look at the camera again. There’s a speaker too. The voices were real, but they were Julian’s. I am not crazy. Julian is the crazy one.
“Come on. You’re going to feel really sick if you don’t take the rest soon,” he prods, his voice tinged with impatience.
My mind races. I have to do something, buy some time, think.
“There’s one more thing I want to write in my letter,” I blurt out, spilling the pills from my hand onto the desk and pullingopen the drawer where I saw him place the letter. Instead of the letter, though, the drawer contains the watch that Gigi gave me, as well as the bottle of perfume I thought I’d misplaced. Julian laughs. “Well, what do you know? Here’s the watch you were so careless with.”
“You took my things and hid them. You wanted to make me think I was going insane,” I say, searching my brain. “Valentina’s book? Your car keys?”
“You’re finally catching on,” he sneers, gathering the pills in his hand. With one hand gripping my chin and pulling down my lower jaw, he shoves the pills into my mouth and orders me to swallow.
Raising my head to meet his eyes, I spit the pills at him with as much force as I can and hurl the glass of water across the room, where it crashes against the wall. He wipes his face, glowering at me. A vein in his neck is throbbing dangerously.
“You bitch,” he says, grabbing a hunk of my hair and hauling me out of the chair.
I try to pull away, but his grasp is too tight, and he drags me across the floor. My scalp is hot, seared with pain. I manage to grab the leg of the bed, and Julian finally lets go. He looks down at me, his eyes narrowed in contempt, as I scramble up to stand.
“You.” He puts his hand on my chest and shoves me backward. “I should have gotten rid of you long ago. You were nothing but a cut-rate replacement for Cassandra.” He shoves me again until my back is against the wall. “You never deserved her name. She was everything to me. And she gave me Valentina. You could never measure up, Amelia.”
I frown at him.
“Yes. Amelia. That’s your real name. The dreams you had of people’s faces getting blown off? That was your family, Amelia.Your sick family, all of whom are dead now.” He spits out the words with malicious glee.
I’m dumbstruck. I search my mind for those memories, but to no avail. “What do you mean, she gave you Valentina? I thought Valentina was mine. What about Sonia?”
He laughs. “There was never any Sonia. And you’re not Valentina’s mother.”
“I don’t understand. I know she’s my child—I love her.”
Before I can think, Julian slams his fist into the wall, inches from my head. “I tried to help you forget, but did you appreciate it? No. You ran away from me. From Valentina. That’s how you repaid me for all I’ve done to help you. You ungrateful bitch.”
Julian’s eyes are crazed. If I don’t somehow temper his rage, he will try to kill me. “I’m sorry, Julian,” I say, bowing my head. “You’re right. I never should have left. I don’t know why I did it.” I raise my eyes to him. “I was so glad when you found me, Julian, and brought me back. Remember how happy we were when we danced together, the night of our anniversary?”
He looks confused for a moment, and I rush on. “You put the ring on my finger, and later, when we got home, I came to our room and we made love.” I want to shudder at the recollection of his hands on my body, but I try to keep my body language neutral.
He laughs and takes another step, his face just inches from mine now. “Very good, Amelia. I see you’ve learned something from all your years of therapy, but you should know better than to try and out analyze the analyst.” He lifts his hand to my chin and squeezes. “Face it, Amelia. You’re better off dead. Your brain has been damaged with trauma, drugs, and hypnosis.” He laughs again, his lips curling in disgust. “But you’ve been a great test subject, one that’s been enormously enlightening to me.” His hands move to my throat.