I SEE YOU an unputdownable psychological thriller with a breathtaking twist by PATRICIA MACDONALD (bookstand for reading txt) 📗

admit — just to you — that he was . . . a decent father. The fact is you were just ordinary people who weren’t really equipped to deal with someone with my gifts. It always seems so ridiculous to me to abide by your rules when neither one of you was my equal. You always were putting your heads together, comparing notes, trying to figure out how best to parent me. It was laughable, really. But none of that matters now. Whatever your mistakes, you compounded them by taking Sydney. You humiliated me by doing that. You made me look bad to the whole world. As if I were incompetent as a mother. As if the kid was better off anywhere than with me. I can’t just let that go.’

‘But if you don’t hate us,’ Hannah pleaded, ‘maybe we could talk . . . Maybe there’s some way . . .’

‘There’s no way,’ said Lisa brusquely. ‘This is the way it is. Don’t look so offended. Now sit down.’

‘I was going to get a glass of water.’ She reached up and touched the bandage around her head. ‘I have to take my medication.’

‘You don’t need your medication anymore,’ said Lisa coldly. ‘Sit down.’

THIRTY-SIX

Frank took the gun from the box in his car. Stuffing it under his jacket, he hurried in the direction of Mamie Revere’s house. Dominga’s keys jingled in his hand, and he used his prosthetic hand to hold them steady and muffle the sound. He moved quickly, lightly, like a cat. He had been a recon marine, and he knew how to traverse a landscape with hardly a sound. He also knew what could happen if he miscalculated. The lasting effects of his injuries were a reminder of that. He mounted the steps lightly, and crouched down by the front door. He turned the key in the lock as silently as he could. He heard the deadbolt click, and he slowly, carefully turned the knob and pushed the door open.

The foyer was dark. The only illumination came from the streetlamps, and some light filtering down from the top of the staircase. Frank tiptoed to the foot of the stairs and listened. He could hear the intermittent, inchoate sounds of voices. He looked up at the two flights which lay ahead of him. How could he get all the way up there without someone hearing him? What if this crazy daughter opened the door and saw him? Shot him? She could easily have a gun. I should have called the cops, he thought. Why try to be a hero? But then he thought of the despair suffusing Anna’s features beneath her bandaged head, and Alan’s anguished confession about his daughter. They were still trying to protect this daughter of theirs. Despite what she had done to her mother, they still wanted to shield her. And here he was, idiot that he was, going along with it.

Kiyanna had begged him to call the cops before he left Restoration House. He had made her promise not to do it. She had threatened never to speak to him again but he put his good hand up to her smooth brown face and held it there. Trust me, he said. I’ll be careful. I’m coming back to you. She had turned away from him, fuming, but he knew she would honor his wishes and not make that call.

So, here we are, Frank thought. Now what? He started up the steps, trying each one before he put his weight on it, moving as slowly and carefully as possible, so as not to make the stairs creak. He reached the first landing, and felt an intense relief.

Just as he was lifting his foot to begin the second staircase, he heard a click below him. He turned abruptly, and saw the front door starting to open. Kiyanna, he thought. What did you do? Just then, a man let himself into the front door and started to cross the foyer.

Frank recognized him at once. Alan made no effort to be silent as he moved across the foyer and started up the steps. As he neared Frank, who was hiding in the shadows, Frank whispered his name.

Adam started and stifled a cry as he discerned the figure of a man in the shadows. Their eyes met. ‘Frank,’ he said.

At the same moment, the door to their apartment opened.

Lisa stepped out into the hallway, holding a gun. ‘Who’s there?’

Adam could see that Frank was gesturing for him to hide, but there was no way he was going to do that. Lisa was up there with Hannah, and a gun. No way. Adam went to the foot of the last flight of stairs, and looked up at his daughter.

‘It’s me,’ he said.

Lisa’s face lit up at the sight of him. ‘Well, well. What a surprise. Did you sprout wings and fly here from Chicago?’

Adam did not answer. He started to climb the stairs.

‘I asked you a question,’ Lisa insisted, and her voice was razor-sharp. ‘How did you get here so quickly?’

Adam ignored her and climbed to the top of the steps. ‘May I come in?’ he asked politely.

Lisa stepped back. ‘Oh, please do. This is just what I’ve been waiting for.’

Hannah gasped as Adam walked in, shadowed by Lisa who was holding the gun on him. ‘Adam!’ she cried, and started to get up.

‘Sit,’ Lisa barked.

Hannah sat back down as her husband came toward her. ‘How . . . ?’ she asked.

‘Yes,’ said Lisa. ‘Tell us how you did that, Dad.’

‘We never left the city,’ he said.

‘Oh, Adam!’ Hannah cried.

‘I couldn’t,’ he said. ‘I couldn’t go without you. I know you wanted me to but I couldn’t.’

She reached out a hand to him but Lisa glared at her and swung the gun around so it was facing her. ‘Don’t,’ she said.

‘I’m sorry,’ said Adam.

Hannah shook