Chapter 1

I'm standing in the kitchen when Adrian gets home.

He opens his mouth, and he's already lying to me again.

"Nora, that wasn't me yesterday. That was Dean. He took Chloe to the hospital."

Dean. His so-called "other personality."

He says it like he's said it a thousand times, waiting for me to nod and pretend everything's fine.

But yesterday afternoon, I stood outside that hospital room and heard them through the door.

"Adrian, aren't you scared she'll figure out you're faking the whole split personality thing?"

Adrian pinched Chloe's nose. "Come on, babe. If I didn't fake it, how else would I get to see you?"

What he didn't know was that, just a few hours earlier that same afternoon, I'd been sitting in Dr. Reeves' office.

"Ms. Sinclair," Dr. Reeves said, sliding the report across her desk.

"Your alter has been taking control more often. Your primary identity is fading."

The words sink in slowly. The part of me that loves him is dying.

......

"Nora?"

Adrian's voice pulls me back. I look up. He's standing in the kitchen doorway.

He walks over and puts his hand on my forehead. "You okay?"

His hand feels warm, and that's when I realize how cold I am.

My bones ache, my body burns with fever, and my head feels like it's filled with lead. The room starts to tilt.

Right then, his phone rings.

He picks up, and his expression changes instantly.

"Chloe? Fever again? Hey, hey—it's okay, baby. I'm coming, I'm coming right now."

He hangs up and turns to me, all guilty eyes.

"Nora, Chloe's sick. I — I mean, Dean has to go again."

I don't answer. My forehead is burning.

I grab his sleeve.

"Can you just stay? Please. Just tonight."

He doesn't even blink.

"Can't. Dean's been clawing at me all day. If I don't go, he's going to tear me apart."

Something in me finally snaps.

"Is Dean even real?"

"Or did you make him up? So you'd always have an excuse? To lie to me?"

He freezes. His eyes go cold. That's "Dean's" look.

Then he shoves me. Hard.

"What the hell are you saying?"

His voice is a low snarl.

"You think I'd lie to you? Adrian's let you run wild for too long, Nora."

"Say that one more time, and being a woman won't save you."

Then "Dean" walks out the door.

I stumble and hit the floor. Adrian pauses at the door. Looks back. Just once.

"Nora, I can't control him. You know that. We'll talk when I'm back."

I grab the counter and pull myself up.

Slowly, I open my left palm.

There's a line of writing across it.

Thin, careful, like someone traced the same letters over and over with a ballpoint pen.

He lied to you again. 587 times.

Annie wrote it.

Annie. My alter, my other personality. She has always kept count for me—every lie, every wound, every time Adrian hurt me.

Sweat beads on my palm and the ink starts to blur.

I remember our wedding night, three years ago.

After the guests left, Adrian grabbed our wedding photo off the table and smashed it against the wall. Drunk. Swaying.

Glass exploded. I screamed.

He fell to his knees, clutching his head. His voice cracked.

"Nora, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. It wasn't me. It was Dean."

That was the first time I heard the name.

Adrian said he had DID — dissociative identity disorder. He told me there was another person living inside him.

His primary personality, Adrian, was gentle, loving, and devoted to me.

His alter, Dean, was violent, obsessive, and hopelessly fixated on Chloe Parker.

Chloe Parker, my college roommate.

He said Dean couldn't stand that Adrian had married me. That's why Dean destroyed the wedding photo.

"My parents dragged me to every doctor in the country, and none of it did a damn bit of good."

He sobbed into my chest that night, shoulders shaking.

"Dean won't leave. Nora, please. Please don't leave me."