Page 80 of The Amendment

My eyes were so dry, it was painful to open them. When I finally did, I opened one eye first, the heaviness in my head unlike anything I’d ever experienced before. Trying to blink only caused me more pain. I wanted to rub my eyes, but I was lying on my hand.

No, wait.

I wasn’t lying on anything.

I was sitting up.

And my hands were stuck behind me.

Both of my eyes were open then, trying to make sense of what I was seeing.

“Joanna?”

Her dark hair cascaded over her facein front of me.

“Joanna?” I groaned, trying to pull myself from sleep.

Why was I so tired?

Why was I in this room?

Theroom.

My room.

What the hell was happening with my hands?

I struggled to pull them free, but found I had no strength.

Why wasn’t she answering me?

“That sedative’s pretty strong, hm?” The voice came from behind me, and I jolted awake.

“Ainsley?” I tried to look behind me, but I couldn’t see a thing. The room was cloaked in darkness.

Shadows.

“What the hell is going on?” I demanded.

“Shouldn’t waste your strength,” she said, clicking her tongue.

“Is this a joke?” I remembered what she’d said. “You sedated me?”

“Just a drop in your wine. You’re not the only one who hung on to some of the sedatives after we killed Chris. I warned you about what would happen if you ever lied to me again.”

As she said it, I remembered Joanna. I glanced at her, still sitting in the chair I’d tied her to. Ainsley must’ve known I’d sedated her to get her there, but how did she know she was there in the first place?

“What are you talking about?”

“Did you honestly think I didn’t know you were still seeing Joanna?” Her voice was getting closer now. “I know the signs, Peter. I know how you get when you’ve gotsomeone new to obsess over. The way you withdraw. The way you begin to ignore me. Ignore the kids.” She scoffed. “I guess we both had the same idea, going to see her separately. Problem was, I wanted to see her to help us. You only wanted to see her to help yourself.”

“That’s not true—”

“So, when I went to one of our sessions and Taylor said she’d gone on personal leave and hadn’t told her when she’d be back, I just knew I’d find her here.” I watched her move beside me, her shoes sliding on the concrete. Finally, she was in view, a knife in her hand. “I hoped I would be wrong, but I wasn’t. So, I continued my sessions here, same as you. By then, though, I was starting to realize I didn’t know what it was I was fighting for anymore.” She twisted her wrist, swinging the knife this way and that.

I swallowed, keeping my eyes trained on it. “What are you doing with that?”

“I was never going to be enough for you, was I?” She shook her head, looking bemused. “No matter what I did. No matter what I promised. No matter how understanding I was… This was never about me.” She twirled the end of the knife on her finger.

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