Page 35 of He Sees You

There's an honesty in solitude that disappears the moment people know they're observed.

But Celeste... Celeste might be the exception.

She might be more honest with an audience, more herself when someone's watching.

Her books suggest she understands that performance and authenticity aren't opposites—sometimes the truest version of ourselves emerges when we know someone's paying attention.

A car engine breaks the silence.

Sheriff Sterling's cruiser, earlier than usual.

He's been keeping irregular hours lately, trying to be unpredictable.

As if unpredictability could stop what's already in motion.

But it's not just Sterling.

There's another figure in the passenger seat.

Deputy Jake Bauer, I realize as they pull into the driveway.

Interesting.

Sterling usually comes home alone, preferring to keep his work and home life separate.

Something's changed.

I ease back deeper into the trees, though I keep Celeste's window in sight.

She's heard the car too—her fingers have stilled on the keyboard, head tilted in that way she has when she's listening.

She moves to her window, peering down at the driveway.

When she sees Jake, something crosses her face—not fear, but discomfort.

The kind of expression women perfect when dealing with men they can't quite refuse but desperately want to.

Twenty minutes pass before I circle back to my truck, parked a half-mile away on an old logging road.

The walk through the woods is meditative, each step calculated to leave minimal tracks.

By the time I reach my cabin, I know Sterling will already be there.

He’ll have seen his daughter with his own eyes and decided it’s time to check in on me.

It's a dance we do—him pretending his visits are random, me pretending I don't track his every movement.

Sure enough, his cruiser sits in front of my cabin, engine still running.

Exhaust fumes rise like spirits in the cold air.

Both doors open as I pull up.

"Sheriff," I greet, stepping out of my truck. "Deputy."

Jake Bauer is everything I remember from my research.

Thirty-two, been with the department six years, never made it past deputy because he lacks the intelligence for promotion.