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Not someone who drugged people and stuffed them into car trunks.

“I was starting to worry that I'd given you too much of the sedative.” Glenda set the mixing bowl on the counter and wiped her hands on her apron. “But you have such a strong constitution, I knew you’d be okay.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but only a croak came out. My throat felt like sandpaper.

“Oh, you poor thing. You must be parched.” Glenda bustled over and settled into the chair across from me. “Please, have some lemonade. I made it fresh this morning, just the way you like it.”

Her table setting was completely different from mine. Real silverware gleamed against the wooden surface unlike the plastic spoon and fork I had. A crystal goblet instead of a plastic cup. A cloth napkin folded neatly beside her plate.

She noticed me staring. “I'm sorry about the plastic, but I can't trust you yet with anything that could be weaponized. You understand, don't you? It's just a precaution until you realize how much better this is than that life you were living.”

I struggled against the ropes binding me to the chair. They held tight, cutting into my skin when I pulled too hard. My heart hammered against my ribs, and I fought the urge to scream. Nobody would hear me out here. Wherever here was.

“Please don't do that.” Glenda reached across the table and patted my free hand. “You'll only hurt yourself, and I don't want you to be in pain.”

I jerked my hand away from her touch. “Let me go.”

“I will. Eventually. When you understand that this is where you belong.” Glenda picked up one of her scones and broke it in half, releasing the scent of orange zest and dried cranberries. “But first, I thought we could have a nice little snack together. Then maybe you could help me with something.”

She took a delicate bite, chewing thoughtfully. “I got your recipe, you know. For the pineapple upside-down cake. But I could never make it come out right. The pineapple always got soggy, and the cake part was too dense.”

My blood turned to ice. “How did you get my recipe?”

Glenda's smile was radiant. “Oh, that was easy. I made myself a copy of the key from the one I found in Miss Laverne’s junk drawer. It made slipping in so much easier after that first time I climbed in through the window. Most times I visited when you were both at church, but I really enjoyed my visits when you were both sleeping. You look like an angel when you sleep, Joy.” She took another bite of the scone and this time took a sip of lemonade afterward. “I learned so much about you that way. Your favorite books, your little habits, the way you organize your recipes in that adorable little box of yours.”

The room spun around me. She'd been in the house. In my space. Going through my things while I slept just feet away.

“I found your journal too.” Glenda's eyes sparkled with excitement. “The one where you wrote about London. About that awful man who hurt you. I wanted to find him and make him pay for what he did to you, but it sounds like he's moved on to terrorizing other women.”

She'd read my journal. The private thoughts I'd written down to try and process what had happened to me. The nightmares, the fear, the shame I'd carried for years.

“You had no right.” My voice came out stronger this time, fueled by anger.

“I had every right. I love you. When you love someone, you want to know everything about them.” Glenda reached for the clotted cream and dropped a dollop onto her scone. “Try yours. They're really quite good, even if they're not as perfect as when you make them.”

I stared at the plate in front of me. “Why me?”

The question hung in the air between us. Glenda set down her scone and folded her hands in her lap, suddenly looking younger and more vulnerable.

“Rob used to get so jealous.” Her voice turned wistful. “He said I cared too much about other people. That I was always finding new friends and paying more attention to them than to him. He never understood that I just have a lot of love to give, and that I couldn’t help all the people who adored me.”

She picked up her lemonade and took a sip. “So that night at Louey’s when you sang that song to me, I swooned.” She had a glint in her eye that made me shiver. “Joy, that was the most beautiful moment of my life. I told Rob that, and he had the audacity to say I was crazy. He said you weren’t singing to me. I wanted to go talk to you, but he wouldn’t let me. Of course, I’d driven us that night. I always had to be the designated driver, so he insisted we leave. I was heartbroken. Here he was, the man who had once claimed to love me, trying to keep me away from my soulmate.”

“Glenda—”

“I couldn't let that stand, of course. When I dropped him off at his house, I told him I needed to talk to him in his driveway. When he got out of the car…” She shrugged. “I put it in reverse, then drove backward as fast as I could…”

I waited for her to continue. When she didn’t, I prompted her. “And?”

“Unfortunately, he died.”

The casual way she said it made my blood freeze. She'd killed her boyfriend. Ran him down in cold blood because he'd questioned her delusion about me.

“I knew you loved me from the very first note you sang to me.” Glenda's expression turned dreamy. “The way you looked right at me during that song. You were telling me how you felt, weren't you? That you wanted to kiss me?”

Horror crashed over me in waves. This was so much worse than London. The man who'd stalked me there had been delusional, but his delusions were about possession and control. Glenda's delusions were about love. About a relationship that existed only in her mind.

In London, I'd been dealing with a stranger. Someone I could hate without reservation. But Glenda had been kind to me. She'd adopted Rosebud, had seemed lonely and sad after her breakup. I'd felt sorry for her.