Choked to death on a swollen tongue, exactly the way I imagined she would. Because they wouldn’t believe I wished my teacher dead and that not long after, she died.

I remembered that it wasn’t true-just a lie I would feed the police so they would keep me from hurting anyone I loved again. I remembered going to the police station to confess to stealing my teacher’s EpiPen and releasing fire ants in her desk, which is why she died of anaphylactic shock. I remembered that I was the one who made her do it. I remembered seeing my father lying pale and wounded in a hospital bed after he was shot by the mother of a murdered girl. “We met yesterday, when you were brought in by your parents and a detective by the name of Vincent Gadsen.” Her voice was warm and friendly but not at all familiar. My chest rose and fell quickly with my breath. I had no idea, but I tried not to show it she wouldn’t have asked me if we’d never met, and if we had met, I should remember her. “I’m at the Lillian and Alfred Rice Psychiatric Unit.” Apparently. She obviously didn’t realize that the floor directory was positioned directly outside the window behind her, and that from the bed, I had a clear view. She smiled at me, and her whole face moved. She had dark brown hair that bled into gray at the roots, and hazel eyes with webs of crow’s feet at the corners. I sat up gingerly-my shoulder was sore-and studied the stranger. I WOKE UP ON THE MORNING OF SOME DAY IN SOME hospital to find a stranger sitting in my room.

The evolution of mara dyer series