Adelaide

"Camille." I stiffen and look to the direction of the voice.

"Detective Wells," I say. "Is there something I can help you with?"

He sits down on the bench. "You're going to jail," he tells me.

I shrug. "And?" I ask.

"Do you know what's odd?" Detective Wells asks. "Camille Kincaid didn't exist until two years ago."

"So?" I ask.

"It's just odd, don't you agree?" he says.

"What do you want?" I ask.

"You," he says. "In jail."

"So, you must think I killed Braxton," I say.

He shrugs. "Braxton Thorne might have been stalking you, obsessed with you, even. But the beauty is that no one will ever know," he says. "All they'll know is that you killed him."

"There's nothing to say that I'll go to jail," I tell Detective Wells.

"There will be."