When someone dies mysteriously during a Psych experiment, Rhiannon becomes enmeshed in a conspiracy that includes both the survivors and the killer.
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Short on cash, Rhiannon...
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CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
COGNITIVE DISSONANCE
( — discomfort or tension that arises from holding two or more psychologically incompatible thoughts at the same time. )
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"FOR HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN GETTING THESE TEXTS?" Rhiannon questions, stumbling out of her seat, while Hailey throws her a purely incredulous look, frozen into place. It must be the exact same look Rhiannon herself flashed Matteo last night, sitting on the staircase, or so she's assuming.
"For . . . two minutes," Hailey hesitantly replies, having to set her phone on the duvet so it won't fall from her trembling hands. "Rhiannon, what's going on? Had you been getting them for longer?"
Rhiannon shakes her head, stuffing her phone back into her bag, and rummages through it to try to find her wallet. Her pack of cigarettes is still hiding in her sports bag in Stephanie's apartment and, knowing her sister like she does, she probably has already gone through her stuff to find it and throw it out.
Her head is throbbing, an obvious consequence of the amount of time she has spent without smoking. It's been over twenty-four hours and Stephanie has been watching her like a hawk, both inside the apartment and outside, as she was the one driving her to the hospital. She's still around, just for precaution.
Precaution. Rhiannon hates how ironic this whole situation is.
"Rhiannon," Hailey insists, when Rhiannon swings her bag's strap over her shoulder, "talk to me. What the hell is this? Who is this person?"
"Did you know Taylor had been getting anonymous texts before she went missing?" Hailey's startle when Rhiannon abruptly turns around, complete with the widening of her eyes, seems genuine enough to make the latter believe her. Frankly, she wants to know there's someone in the middle of this mess she can trust, but, then again, she also wanted to trust Connor back in the day. "I overheard Dimitri talk to Brooklyn about this on New Year's Eve. My own texts started coming a week later."
Hailey lowers her head, chewing on her bottom lip. "Rhiannon . . . you have to remember Taylor and I . . . we stopped being friends. We weren't friends when she went missing and she made sure to let people know she wanted to have nothing to do with us."
Inhaling sharply, Rhiannon swings back and forth on her heels. "Who was Taylor friends with? Was it just you? Because Laura said—"
"It doesn't matter what Laura said," Hailey dryly interrupts. "Regardless of what Laura says, regardless of what happened, Taylor was one of us, ever since her freshman year. I tried to convince Taylor to come back to the group, but it's not like she ever listened to what we had to say when she had already made her mind up about it." She pauses, risking a brief glance up at Rhiannon, who's still standing by the door. "You remind me of her a little bit, you know?"
