Imaginary Strangers (Dangerous Strangers, #1)

by Minka Kent

Good people are always so sure they’re right. —Convicted murderer Barbara “Bloody Babs” Graham’s final words before her execution on June 3, 1955

Whoever said there’s no rest for the wicked never met Lucinda Nichols.

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

“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.”

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.

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

“One of the very first things you told me was that psychopaths are born, but sociopaths are made,”

If someone chooses to exit your life, you shouldn’t stalk them—you should thank them. They did you a favor. Why more people don’t realize this is beyond me. I’ve never understood the idea of longing to be with someone who has no desire to be with you.

Society tells women we’re supposed to do it all, have it all, and be it all. But what society doesn’t tell you is that’s an impossible order.”

They say the devil you know is better than the devil you don’t. I used to agree. Now I’m not so sure.