Never Lie

by Freida McFadden

Forget everything I said. I love my husband. Truly.

“Adrienne Hale,” he reads off the back cover. “Isn’t she that shrink who got murdered?”

How are you? The three most useless words in the universe of communication. Nobody who asks that question wants to know the answer. And nobody who answers ever tells the truth.

But today, she has crossed a line. Nobody talks about my patients that way.

She’s having a bad day. But it’s going to get much worse when she gets the email from me terminating her as my agent.

I refuse to accept any patients with whom I do not feel comfortable. With one exception. But that will resolve itself soon enough.

I will never have to see him again.

I just have a natural sense of curiosity. Is there anything so wrong with that?

But he would never hurt me. I know that for a fact.

Ethan’s mother and father both died before we were even dating. It was an accident of some sort, but he doesn’t like to talk about it—he clams up at any mention of it.

Also, there was something creepy about his voice. I can’t put my finger on it. Something creepy and also familiar.

I’m not sure I can listen to any more EJ sessions. There’s something about the sound of his voice that makes my skin crawl.

He’s evil.

I don’t know why my friends don’t like him.

For the first time since I saw that video on my phone, I feel a flash of happiness. That video. EJ. That asshole. No. Don’t think about it. Not now.

I don’t even know where the heating system is. It could be practically anywhere in this giant house. I’m impressed he figured it out, having never been here before.

“I’m glad you checked. But how did you know that? We don’t have any Internet.” He hesitates for a beat. “I didn’t read it today, obviously. I read it before. Like a long time ago. I just remembered it.”

I believe that any human being is capable of terrible things if you push them hard enough.

EJ did mention drinking some wine. But if he’s anything like Ethan, even a bottle of wine isn’t enough to get him to slur his speech. It’s strange.

“I’ve never seen a dead body before.” I glance over at him. “Have you?” He hesitates a second too long. “No.” “Have you?”

Ethan doesn’t seem at all upset about it. Shouldn’t he be upset?

“Don’t listen to any more tapes,” he says in a voice that doesn’t sound like the man I married. “Promise me you won’t.”

But there’s something in his eyes that tells me this isn’t the reason he doesn’t want me to listen to those tapes. He isn’t being entirely honest with me.

After all, my mother always said that the only way two people can keep a secret is if one of them is dead.