The Lies We Believe

THE LIES WE BELIEVE LISA HARRIS ADRENALINE-FUELED FICTION Copyright © 2023 by Lisa Harris All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. CONTENTS Prologue Quote Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Epilogue About the Author Also by Lisa Harris Acknowledgments Selected Praise for Lisa Harris Blood Ransom: Sneak Peek Blood Ransom: Chapter One US Marshal Series PROLOGUE There are seventy-two unbroken white tiles on the floor of the intake lobby of the psychiatric hospital. I know this because I have counted them while I sit, waiting for my name to be called. I arrived three hours ago, and I’m still waiting. Still uncertain how I got here. A man in a brown tweed suit is talking animatedly on his phone to someone while pacing in front of a group of large windows. The windows spill light into the otherwise shadowy room and overlook a scenic green space filled with trees and grass. The intent, I suppose, is to help clients forget they’re in a hospital. As far as I’m concerned, the attempts to distract from reality don’t work. A couple sits across from me, staring at their phones while seeming to avoid each other. The rest of the room is filled with half dozen more faces. No one looks at each other. No one is chatting about the weather or sharing information about why they’re sitting in the lobby of a psych ward. My lawyer, who’s sitting next to me, tells me I’m lucky I’m here and not sitting in a jail cell, but I disagree. The plastic, orange chair I’m sitting on is hard, the heater’s turned up too high, and I’m terrified. This is my worst nightmare. The one I’d feared since childhood. Since finding out what happened to my own mother. Like mother like daughter. I want to reject the thought, but I can’t. How can I, now that I’m sitting here waiting to be officially evaluated by a shrink? The truth is I’ve seen it coming. Knew it was coming. At first I noticed only small changes. Confused thinking. Issues with concentrating. Random obsessions with certain thoughts, and then the memory lapses. The same way my mother had started losing her sanity. By the time I was born, her symptoms were already full blown, but I’d been told that family and friends had noticed the small changes in her personality for years. I shift my attention to a woman on the far side of the room in a polka dot dress and fake pearl necklace. Sadie and Oliver don’t deserve this, but I can’t let my mind go down that path. The path that ends with my children being taken away from me. All I “A single lie destroys a whole reputation of integrity.” Baltaar Gracian ONE Three days earlier I’m always surprised at how something simple can quickly become so stressful—like picking out a birthday cake. Between flavor, filling, and frosting options—not to mention the decorations—it takes me a good thirty minutes to order my daughter Sadie’s thirteenth birthday cake. The three-tiered, purple, turquoise, and black zebra print cake is only one item off a very long to-do list I’m trying to get through between clients I’ve taken on as a graphic designer. This is the first year I haven’t made her cake myself, but juggling two kids as a single mom with a full-time job is exhausting. I glance at the row of wedding cakes as I head out of the bakery and back into the cold Texas afternoon. The reminder of matrimony feels like a punch to my gut. I’m not just a single mother of two, but a widow, trying to navigate life on my own for the first time. My phone rings as I head down the sidewalk. I check the caller ID. It’s my best friend, Melody. “Riley, if I didn’t know you better,” she says as soon as I answer, “I’d think you were ignoring me.” I stop in front of a local coffee shop, an Austin favorite. While barely January, the store’s already promoting Valentine’s Day with Chocolate Strawberry Mocha and Honey Rose Espressos. I swallow the string of excuses that come automatically. “Why would I ignore you?” “Let’s see, I’ve already called three times this morning, and you haven’t picked up. I probably shouldn’t be, because you’re a big girl, but I was worried.” “I’m sorry.” I say, but I don’t want to let even my best friend see past all the layers I’ve managed to build up around me. “I’m out shopping for Sadie’s birthday presents and just ordered the cake for her party. You are coming to her party, aren’t you?” I ask, hoping to shift the direction of the conversation away from me. “Of course. I wouldn’t miss it. We get back from our cruise the day before.” The cruise. How could I have forgotten she was leaving in the morning? “You’re sure you’ll be fine?” Melody asks. “I’ve been told cell service is awful and if you need me—” “Of course, I’ll be fine,” I