“I’d hoped you would come see me the other night you know.” Bennett’s voice is smooth and warm, low and unthreatening, but has all the charm of a snake waiting to bite.

“I know,” I reply, smiling at him in the mirror as I brush my hair. “I was tired.”

A lie. A big one.

The night he’s talking about was the night I drove to the ridge. He’d sent me a text letting me know that his parents were out of town on a spontaneous three-day vacation to Paris, and that it was about time he and I “stopped pretending and let fate take its course.”

Fate…

That’s how...