Page 124 of Dead Pretty

I peer down at it.

It’s a small piece of blank paper. About half the size of the bills in my hand.

I bend down and pick it up. I turn it over to see what, if anything, is on the other side.

It’s a section from a news article. Like the type people can print out from the computers at the library.

It takes me a moment before it registers in my brain who and what this article is about. And then it does, and my whole body freezes cold.

It’s about Tobias Ripley. Before the murders. When he was a senior in high school. Some award he won.

And there’s a picture accompanying the article.

I recognize Tobias’s mother standing beside him. I know her from his trial.

But it’s who is standing on the other side of Tobias with his arm around his shoulders that causes pain to slice across my stomach, where my scars are.

I feel like I’m back there that night.

But instead of it being Tobias who cut me, this time, it’s Jack.

And this feels so much worse than any pain Tobias ever inflicted on me.

Because that person smiling in the picture with his arm around Tobias’s shoulders is Jack.

My Jack.

I’m running on autopilot when I pay the pizza guy and close the door.

And I just stand here. Staring at nothing.

Jack knows Tobias.

I let this man inside my body. I cared for him … loved him.

And all that time … he knew … Tobias.

I stare down at the news clipping, still held in my hand.

Bile floods my mouth.

Jack … he …

I … have to understand this. How Jack knows him. And why he’s here. With me.

It’s obviously no coincidence. Meaning that he came here for me.

Why?

To kill me?

My heart beats staccato against my ribs.

No. Jack could have done that a hundred times over already. That is not the reason he’s here. He’s here for another reason.

But what?

I hear Jack moving around. His footsteps enter the living room.