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“But you have to understand,” Simon pleads. “It has nothing to do with pain. I’m not a sadist. I’ve never wanted to hurt anyone.”
Holly leans forward. “I believe you, Simon.”
“All this work we’ve done. All this progress I’ve made under your therapy. Taming those urges that have handcuffed me all this time,” he says, seemingly oblivious to the irony of his metaphor. “It’s been such a waste.”
“Why a waste?”
“I heard from my lawyer this morning. Kyla has upped her demands. On top of millions, she wants a written apology, too. Or she won’t sign an NDA.” He holds out his palms. “What’s the fucking point of an NDA if I sign some kind of confession?”
“Your lawyers will work it out, I’m sure.”
“I don’t trust them anymore,” he grumbles. “I tried to get a second opinion from Reese, but I couldn’t reach her yesterday.”
“I can’t help you, Simon. This is way out of my realm.”
He sighs heavily. “It’s more than just the accusations. I think Liisa is right. I mean who the fuck are we kidding? The tribe is finished.”
A chill runs between Holly’s shoulder blades. “Liisa said that?”
He nods. “She texted us all. In a group chat. She said she was dropping out. And she told us to do the same.”
“Can I see those texts?”
He hesitates. “Don’t think that’s the best idea.”
She extends a hand toward him. “Simon, please,” she says in a firm tone. “I need to see this conversation.”
After a moment, Simon digs his phone from his pocket, taps on the screen a few times, and then, with obvious reluctance, hands it over to Holly.
Holly scans the text chain on the screen. Her chest burns as she reads words such as “toxic,” “scheme,” and “sacrifice,” which Liisa used to describe Holly’s intentions.
She scrolls down below the point in the chat where Liisa announced she was leaving, but there are no more texts from her.
At the bottom of the text chain, Holly spots a message from Salvador that was sent at 7:22 this morning. I stopped by Liisa’s townhouse on my way to the studio. Totally dark. And her car wasn’t out front.
Baljit replied: Wonder if she’s flown the coop.
“I think she’s gone,” Holly mutters, more to herself than Simon.
Simon eases his phone out of her hand. “Liisa told me she was going to miss some upcoming sessions. Conflicts or something?” He frowns. “Maybe she’d already planned a trip?”
“You spoke to Liisa?” Holly motions to his phone. “After those group texts?”
“No. Before. Earlier in the day. But man, was she singing a different tune. She didn’t seem angry. She certainly never mentioned anything about you being…”
“Toxic?”
“Yeah.”
She’s definitely gone.
CHAPTER 45
Holly finds herself back inside the same cramped interview room at the Newport Beach police station, sitting across from Detective Rivers, whose light-blue shirt sets off his ochre skin tone.
He jots notes with the same pen as before while Holly describes the incident involving her car. “What type of car do you drive, Dr. Danvers?”
“A BMW X3.”
