Copyright 2018 by Colleen Hoover

to take Crew downstairs. He grabs me by the waist and lifts me over his shoulder
and carries me down the stairs, straight to my room. He sets me down onto the
bed, gently, even in the midst of his anger.
He walks to my closet. Grabs my suitcase. My things. “I want you to leave.”

---

I lift up onto my knees and move to the foot of the bed, where he’s shoving
all my things into the suitcase. “You have to believe me.”
He doesn’t.
“Goddammit, Jeremy!” I point toward the upstairs. “She’s crazy! She’s been
lying to you since the day you met her!”
I’ve never seen so much distrust and hatred pouring out of a human. The way
he’s looking at me has me so terrified, I scoot away from him.
“She’s not faking it, Lowen.” He tosses his hand in the air, toward the
direction of the stairs. “That woman is helpless. Practically brain-dead. You’ve
been seeing things since you got here.” He shoves more clothes into my suitcase,
shaking his head. “It’s impossible,” he mutters.
“It isn’t. And you know it isn’t. She killed Harper and you know it. You
suspected it.” I climb off the bed and rush to the door. “I can prove it.”
He follows after me as I run to Verity’s office. I grab the manuscript, every
page of it, and I turn around just as he reaches me and I shove it against his
chest. “Read it.”
He catches the pages. Looks down at them. Looks back up at me. “Where
did you find this?”
“It’s hers. It’s all there. From the day you met her up until her car wreck.
Read it. At least read the last two chapters, I don’t care. Just, please, read it.” I’m
exhausted, and I have nothing else in me but pleas. So I beg him. Quietly.
“Please, Jeremy. For your girls.”
He’s still looking at me like he doesn’t trust a single word coming out of my
mouth. He doesn’t have to. If he would just read those pages—see what his wife
was truly thinking in the moments she was with him—he’ll know I’m not the
one he needs to worry about.
I can feel the fear welling up in me. The fear of losing him. He thinks I’m
crazy—that I was trying to hurt his wife. He wants me to leave his home. He
wants me to walk out of here and he never wants to see me again.
My eyes sting as the tears begin to fall down my cheeks.
“Please,” I whisper. “Please. You deserve to know the truth.”

---

I expect it to take him a while to read the entire thing. I’m sitting on my bed,
waiting. The house is quieter than it’s ever been. Unsettling, like the calm before
a storm.
I stare at my suitcase, wondering if he’s still going to want me to leave after
this. The entire time I’ve been here, I’ve been holding on to that manuscript,
keeping it a secret from him. He may never forgive me for it.
I know he’ll never forgive Verity.
My eyes flick up to the ceiling when I hear a crash. It wasn’t loud, but it
sounded like it came from the room Jeremy is in. He hasn’t been up there for
very long, but it’s enough time to at least skim the manuscript and know that
Verity was not at all the woman he thought she was.
I hear a cry. It’s low and quiet, but I hear him.
I fall onto my side and hug the pillow as I squeeze my eyes shut. It kills me
to know how much he’s hurting right now as he reads page after page of a truth
so harsh, it never should have been written.
Footsteps are above me now, moving around upstairs. He hasn’t been up
there nearly long enough to read the entire thing, but I can understand that. If I
were him, I would have skipped to the end to see what really happened to
Harper.
I hear a door open. I run across the hall to the office and look at the monitor.
Jeremy is standing in Verity’s doorway, looking at her. I can see both of
them from the monitor. “Verity.”
She doesn’t answer him, obviously. She doesn’t want him to know she’s a
threat. Or maybe she’s been faking it because she’s afraid he’ll turn her into the
police. Whatever her reason, I have a feeling Jeremy isn’t going to walk away
from the room until he gets his answer.
“Verity,” he says, stepping closer to her. “If you don’t answer me, I’m
calling the police.”
She still doesn’t answer him. He walks over to her, reaches down, and pulls
one of her eyelids open. He stares at her for a moment, then walks toward the

---

door. He doesn’t believe me.
But then he pauses, like he’s questioning himself. Questioning what he read.
He turns around and walks over to her. “When I walk out of this room, I’m
taking your manuscript straight to the police. They’ll put you away and you’ll
never see me or Crew again if you don’t open your eyes and tell me what’s
going on in this house.”
Several seconds pass. I’m holding my breath, waiting for her to move.
Hoping she moves so that Jeremy will know I’m telling the truth.
A whimper escapes my throat when she opens her eyes. I slap my hand over
my own mouth before it turns into a scream. I’m afraid I’ll wake Crew, and this
is not something he needs to walk into.
Jeremy’s whole body tenses, and then he grabs his head in both hands as he
backs away from her bed. He meets the wall. “What the fuck, Verity?”
Verity begins to shake her head adamantly. “I had to, Jeremy,” she says,
sitting up on the bed. She’s getting into a defensive pose, as if she’s terrified of
what he might do.
Jeremy is still in disbelief, his face full of anger and betrayal and confusion.
“This entire time…you’ve been….” He’s trying to keep his voice down, but he
looks like he’s about to explode into a rage. He turns and releases his anger with
a fist against the door. It makes Verity flinch.
She holds up her hands. “Please, don’t hurt me. I’ll explain everything.”
“Don’t hurt you?” Jeremy spins around, taking a step forward. “You killed
her, Verity.”
I can hear the anger in his voice, and it’s just over the monitor. But Verity
has a front row seat to it. She tries to jump off the bed to escape him, but he
doesn’t allow it. He grabs her by the leg and yanks her back onto the bed. When
she starts to scream, he covers her mouth.
They struggle. She’s trying to kick him. He’s trying to hold her down.
Then his other hand forms a circle around her throat.