A secret admirer’s devotion turns deadly in a twisting novel of psychological suspense.

Mia Anderson is an invisible woman. An unremarkable thirty-two-year-old Tennessee librarian, she’s accustomed to disappearing in a crowd, unseen and unheard. Then she receives an anonymous note: You look beautiful today.

It doesn’t stop there. The attentive stranger--a secret admirer named Adam--has plans for Mia. With each new text comes a suggestion for her hair, clothes, or attitude, and for the first time in memory, Mia feels noticed. Slowly, she develops a confidence in herself she’s never had. But Adam has a surprise coming…and Mia finally sees him for who he is and what he’s prepared to do for her. Even kill.

Fearing she could be implicated in the murder, Mia’s forced to turn to the stranger in the shadows watching her every move. Adam’s game of cat and mouse begins with Mia as the prey. In order to survive, she must also become the predator.

The dress is a perfect fit.

Standing in front of my closet, I study the form-fitting bejeweled bodice and flared skirt, that falls just above the knee. It’s stunning, luxuriously silky, simple and elegant and I decide it’s a Cinderella dress if I’ve ever seen one. I don’t even know how Adam managed to pick a dress this close to my ideal dream gown with a perfect fit. Of course, we’ve talked for endless hours, and he’s watched me from afar, therefore, I reason, it’s likely he could guess a size. Not to mention, per the tags, he bought the dress at Saks Fifth Avenue, and the staff there is certainly paid well to be good at guessing these things. I decide not to overthink the dress fitting like a glove or Adam knowing my address. I’ve done a lot of looking for problems where Adam is concerned, and now tonight, the speculation of what is right or wrong with our relationship, if that’s what you call this, ends. The time to ask Adam about Adam in person, has come.

I give myself one last inspection, replaying Adam’s words in my head, “I told you I like you in red.” I wonder if he will think I look sexy in the dress. I laugh nervously. My cheeks are flushed, my skin warm. I do feel a little sexy in the dress, and it’s kind of wonderful. Maybe red is my color.

It’s time to go feel sexy with Adam. I’m ready, I think.

The mystery of the man ends tonight.

***

I arrive at the address Adam directed me to via his text at ten minutes until nine—a girl does like to be punctual. The building is a fancy all-glass high-rise, that appears to be an office building, but there must be a restaurant inside. There is no security at the entry, and I walk to the elevator and choose floor eleven, as directed by Adam’s earlier message. With nervous energy lighting me up, I step onto the empty car, jab at the button, and then watch the doors slide shut.

Blinking at the vision of myself now reflecting before me in the silver sheen of the elevator, I barely recognize the girl in the red fitted dress and strappy black heels, her long dark hair silky around her shoulders. This can’t be me, and yet, it is. Somehow it really is me.

With a fist balled at my chest, I will my heart to calm, while my chin lifts and tracks the floors as they zip past with far too rapid a pace. I enjoy Adam’s company on the phone, I tell myself. Certainly, I will enjoy seeing him in person. Still, my mind goes to a novel I once read about a woman, Sue Ann Miller, who was chatting it up with a man named Joe online, only to discover it was all a huge joke created by someone she knew. This person who set her up later released all the chats and even a nude photo that she’d sent to “Joe” on a Reddit thread that went viral. Sue Ann was mocked and shamed to the point that she eventually killed herself.

The elevator opens on my destination floor, and I shake myself. I didn’t send a nude photo to Adam and I am not going to be mocked. That’s a ridiculous notion, fiction I’m using to scare myself. Jess is right when she declares me truly my worst enemy at times.

I exit the car and walk down a small hallway to an open door. I step under the archway and suck in a breath at what I find. The floor is unfinished, a shell of offices waiting to be built, but in the center of it all, just in front of a row of windows, sits a dinner table with flowers and a bottle of wine on top. I don’t know if I should be charmed or afraid, but I quickly squash my fear. As Adam has observed, fear is my weakness. He wants to be alone with me. And when has any man gone to this much trouble for me ever?

Tentatively, no, more nervously, I cross the concrete floor and halt at the table where there is a card with my name written on the front. I pick it up, open it, and withdraw a stack of notecards inside. The first one reads: Follow the instructions and don’t jump ahead. Your big surprise will await at the end.

My nerves settle a bit, a smile touching my lips with this playful game. I glance around, wondering if he’s watching me in the shadows, or if there’s a camera somewhere, but it seems to be only me here, at least, for now. My hope is that the surprise referenced is him, and I am eager to work my way through what looks like only a few cards. I flip to the next one that reads: Pour yourself a glass of wine. It’s the Meiomi cabernet you love.

The man really listens to what I say to him, I think. He really does listen and remember what I share about my likes and dislikes.

I set the cards down and fill my glass, still feeling the pleasure of him remembering my favorite wine. Once I’ve sipped from my glass, I pick up the cards again and flip to the next one: Sometimes feeling uncomfortable is necessary. Just as fear tends to do to us, discomfort reminds us how much we want to live.

Something about the tone of the card snakes through me with warning. I am no longer smiling. A ball of urgency forms inside me and I flip to the next card: Remember when I told you I’d teach you to leave the Invisible Girl behind? The most important lesson is to remove everything negative from your life. Clear the path for a more confident, happy you.

There’s nothing more on the card, but for reasons I can’t explain, my hand is trembling and my urgency to see the final card is one hundred-fold. I flip to it and read: You once told me the one thing you loved about Kevin. His apartment in the sky, the one you think you will never deserve yourself. The one you confessed to me, that he told you, you’d never be ambitious enough to own without him by your side. Pick up your wine, set your cards down, and turn to the window.

I set down my wine, and suck in a breath, a feeling of dread inside me. I round the table and stand at the window, the apartment across the street glowing with the brightness of what feels like a million lights aglow. A man steps to the window and suddenly, I realize I’m standing across from Kevin’s apartment, acting like a voyeur that I am not, but have currently been forced into. Kevin is moving about in the room and every instinct I own screams of danger. The cards fall from my grip, fluttering about as I struggle to retrieve my phone stuffed in my tiny black purse. Finally, it’s in my hand, and I punch in Kevin’s number.

He answers on the first ring. “Are the police on their way, Mia? What did I do this time? Fuck someone that wasn’t you? Like Jess?”

I blink. Wait. What? “Did you and Jess—did you—”

He walks to the window and stands there, looking out across the city, as he often does while on the phone, and I wonder if he can see me, as I can see him. “What do you want, Mia?”

“Look across the street, into the building.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Just do it. Now,” I command.

He does as I say before murmuring, “What the fuck? Is that you?”

“Yes. Listen. A man called me and he told me—” That’s when I see the figure in all black behind Kevin, approaching him. “Kevin, turn around. Turn around now.”

But it’s too late. The person, whoever the person is, jabs something in his neck, a needle I think. He crumples to the ground. I gasp and cover my mouth, not sure if Kevin is sedated or dead. That’s when I see the knife in the stranger’s hand. view abbreviated excerpt only...

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