Imaginary Strangers (Dangerous Strangers, #1)

by Minka Kent

I could kill her. I could free myself from the misery, abuse, neglect, and cruelty that has stained my life these past seventeen years.

When she cried, I felt nothing. When she smiled, I felt nothing. Just a gaping void where pulled heartstrings should have been.

“Sociopathy is considered an antisocial personality disorder,” she explained. “It’s believed that one in twenty-five people in this country falls under this category.” The doctor paused, taking a moment to readjust her trembling hands. “After evaluating you, it’s my professional opinion that you, too, fall under this category.”

For the first time in my life, my chronic indifference and inability to empathize made sense.

Sympathy (and its cousin, empathy) are strangers I’ll never know—but that doesn’t mean I can’t pretend we’re great friends.

In this time, I’ve discovered that while I’m incapable of feeling love and compassion the way most people do, what I am capable of feeling . . . is dangerously protective. There’s nothing I won’t do to keep my family—and my secrets—safe.

Dr. Runzie told me that sociopaths

feel love differently than others, that it typically comes as a form of intense loyalty. So far, that seems to be the case with me, though I’d double down on the “intense” aspect of that.

He’s a fixer. And he never leaves a task unfinished. It’s one of the best things about him, but in this case, it’s one of the most frustrating.

What he brings to the table is what I need—a safe, stable home, a comfortable existence. And what I bring to the table is what he needs—a devoted partner to raise his children, a companion who respects and supports him mentally, physically, sexually, emotionally, professionally . . .

I rest assured knowing I’m keeping him happy and satisfied. In return, he makes me feel safe, valued, and cared for.

At the end of the day, every relationship is transactional, and anyone who believes otherwise is fooling themselves.

Someone who likes to feel important and helpful and seen and anything but lazy—admirable qualities in most people, but not at the expense of other people’s

safety. I surmise there’s a people-pleasing angle somewhere in that mix. Overachieving busybodies live to people please.

She could burrow deep under their skin, until they were squirming and powerless and she could make them do anything she wanted.”

Lucinda might be two moves away from declaring checkmate, but this is no longer a game; this is a battle for my family’s safety—a battle she’s going to lose.

Dr. Runzie always said sociopaths were made, but psychopaths were born.

Eight years in, and I’m still not used to having another woman—especially a maternal figure—fighting for me in my corner. At times it feels like I’m observing someone else’s life, watching someone else’s loving mother-in-law interact with someone else’s beautiful children. The instant I remember they’re all mine, my awareness slams back into my body.

Shifting from subject to observer and back used to happen all the time, especially when we lived in Chicago.

Dr. Runzie called it “derealization” and explained it was...

Sometimes I wonder if he’d have loved the real me and not the version of me he met that night in that bar, the version I’ve exhaustingly maintained for the past eight years, the version that silently suffocates me with a scream I’ll never be able to let out, the version he’ll never know

Longing is merely a type of thought, and thoughts alone are incapable of changing circumstances, facts, or other people’s feelings about you.

I imagine much of that comes from knowing he has a soft place to land, a safety net in the form of loving parents who would move heaven and earth to ensure his happiness and well-being.

Oftentimes, the relationships we grow up watching become a frame of reference for the relationships we enter as adults.”

I’d teach my clients the art of manipulation, how to make anyone putty in your hands. I wouldn’t be able to teach them not to feel guilty about it, though. That’s not the kind of thing you can teach. It has to come naturally. Either you have a conscience—or you don’t.

They say the devil you know is better than the devil you don’t.

The fewer words I use, the better. There’s an old adage that whoever speaks the most during a negotiation inevitably loses.

“You clearly underestimate a mother’s love. But it isn’t your fault. You can’t begin to comprehend that sort of thing if you’ve never experienced it yourself.”

was her avatar: a carnivorous monster that uses its flowers and nectar to appear harmless. An alluring, inviting facade to hide its predatory nature. Working assiduously and unsuspectingly to manipulate its target so it can snap at precisely the right moment.