Page 87 of Savage Little Lies

My eyes shift to the drawer of her nightstand, which is slightly cracked open. I walk over and glance through the small open space, slide the drawer open wider to peek at what’s inside.

The first few things that I spot are a tube of strawberry ChapStick and a phone charger. There’s also a box cutter tucked in the corner. Not too odd. A temporary weapon. Like the rest of this place.

I push a few other normal items aside before pausing at the sight of a passport in the back of the drawer. I grab it and open it, seeing her picture staring back at me. Her hair is even longer in the photo, the color is more reddish-gold than brown.

How long ago was this taken?

My eyes shift down to the information listed, and my heart stops.

Her passport doesn’t list Cara Reynolds as her legal name. It says Cara Cahill.

My pulse comes back with a vengeance, pounding heavily in my head as I stare at the name. At the woman in the photograph.

She lied to me.

She lied on her resume, her application. And she’s been lying so long that Cara Reynolds had a decent background record.

“Here’s some Tylenol.”

Her voice sounds like it’s miles away, my ears threatening to ring. What the fuck is going on?

I turn around to face her, still holding her passport in my hand.

The second Cara sees it, her face pales. The small pills slip from her fingertips and clatter on the floor by her feet. “What are you doing?”

I tap my finger against her name. “Explain this, Ms. Cahill. What the fuck, Cara?”

She breathes in deeply, her fingers flexing as she tries to keep her hands from shaking. “I can explain.”

I let out a cold laugh, fury flaring within my chest so damn strong that it aches. After all the shit that I’ve already been through today, is she now going to stab me in the back too? “Oh, really? Let’s hear it.”

Cara swallows hard before hardening her expression. “I had to change my name.”

“Why?” I question her as I step toward her.

She doesn’t flinch or tense. She holds my gaze, letting me approach her. “It’ll only be a matter of time before my ex-boyfriend gets out of prison. We…we didn’t break up on good terms, and for my safety, it would be for the best if he can’t find me when he got out.”

“He’s that dangerous? Your idiot drug dealer ex-boyfriend?” I reply, narrowing my eyes in suspicion.

Cara lowers her eyes. “You don’t understand how angry he would get about everything. Everything! He threatened me. He thought I was part of the reason why he got caught by the police. Do you really think he would show up at my doorstep with roses when he’s released?”

I eye her, teetering between believing her and not. I want to trust her because I don’t want to suspect the worst, but I’m not stupid. Anyone can lie about anything. She’s not exempt from that.

“What’s his name?” I ask, needing to know more about the idiot from her past.

She shakes her head, refusing to tell me, as if she’s protecting him. That only makes me angrier.

“You could’ve said something to me about this before now,” I tell her.

“I was scared,” Cara says as a look of guilt crosses her face.

“Scared of what?” I reply in a sharp tone.

Cara moves toward me, making me tense up. I don’t know what she’s capable of if one little lie can come so easily to her. “Ruining your trust in me. I worked hard to prove myself to you. To show you that I was someone you could rely on no matter what. I didn’t want my past getting in the way of that. I’ve been doing everything that I can to distance myself from it. A new name. A new apartment in a new city. A new job.”

Slowly, my muscles relax as my eyes search her face, looking for signs of lying and deception. A twitch of her lips. A shifting of her eyes.

But all I see on her face is guilt and fear.