Chapter One

Twinkling lights of red, green, and white cast their jolly glow through Theresa Lucasak’s bedroom window. The festive scene might have once felt magical, when she was a little girl, but it all seemed hollow now, like decorations for someone else’s life.

The holidays used to be her very favorite time of the year. As a kid, she’d spend hours imagining reindeer soaring across the sky, Santa squeezing down chimneys, and people singing carols to promote joy and goodwill.

But for a fourteen-year-old, those stories were like faded memories of a time when magic seemed possible. Now the world was different. Sharper. Cruel. The goodness Christmas was supposed to bring out in people? That was just a lie adults told to keep the illusion alive.

Theresa knew better. People weren’t kind or generous. They took what they wanted, and when she’d tried to believe otherwise, it had only led her here—to an unfixable mess.

It was all her fault. Had she been less gullible, she wouldn’t have trusted the wrong people. She wouldn’t have made the mistakes that brought her to this room, staring at those damned Christmas lights, feeling the weight of regret settle into her bones.

How had it gotten to this?

Erika had been everything Theresa could ever want in a girlfriend. Well…online girlfriend, to be exact. She’d listened to everything Theresa had to say. She was warm and genuine and funny and smart.

At first.

Theresa wasn’t even sure when things changed, when Erika began to control every move she made. Every time Theresa tried to break up with her or set any boundary, Erika threatened her, blackmailing her with the nude photos she’d sent in confidence.

Tears flooded her vision as she turned toward her laptop and the webcam broadcasting her image to the shadowy figure on screen.

That should’ve been her first clue. She’d never seen Erika’s face clearly. The lighting on her end was always so poor. Erika claimed it was because she worried Theresa’s mom might come in and stop them from chatting.

Naive and gullible. Theresa was all that and more. She was also in deep shit.

“I said take off your clothes. Are you deaf as well as dumb?” Erika’s voice was loud, shrill, and full of attitude.

Her heart hammering, Theresa turned down the volume on her laptop, even though her mom would be out with Aunt Susan for several more hours. Their movie didn’t even start until nine. More than anything, Theresa wished she had spent the day with them. But she claimed she had a migraine, knowing Erika would be furious if she skipped the chat they’d planned.

“No…I can’t. I won’t. Not this time.” She shook her head so hard, her hair whipped her eyes. She should’ve said no from the beginning. Maybe then she wouldn’t be in this situation now.

Erika hadn’t always been so cruel. When they’d first connected, back when she was ErikaLovesArt6 on Zip, her kind words had given Theresa the courage to admit her secret. Erika had even praised her for being brave enough to say she was gay.

Although her mom claimed she didn’t care about sexual orientation, that didn’t change the fact that the issue remained taboo among family, friends, and especially those in her church. Being gay was okay, as long as no one spoke about it. And Theresa had seen what happened to a sweet couple who dared to ask their very conservative pastor to marry them.

After turning them down, he gave an abnormally long sermon about the fires of hell awaiting sodomites. Singling out the poor men, he condemned homosexuality as “the work of the devil.” Needless to say, the couple was never seen at church again.

Theresa imagined the congregation’s judgment on her mom for raising a “heathen” child. She couldn’t let that happen to her or her mother.

She’d kept her secret buried down deep. While all her friends were giggling about their crushes, Theresa tried to play along. She did everything possible to be a good girl and make her mom proud, even telling herself that marrying a man and having children wouldn’t be so bad. Anything to keep the fires of hell from her door.

Living a lie was one thing, but never getting to share the pain was eating her alive. Desperate to find some kindred soul, she’d turned to the internet, hoping to find someone who could relate.

That first night seemed like eons ago.

Erika had been cool, friendly, and easy to talk to. Like Theresa, she came from an ultrareligious family. She had to hide who she was. She, too, had been reaching out for someone who understood the pain.

The more they talked, the more Theresa knew Erika was her soulmate.

ZipChat messages quickly turned to voice chats, and then finally, they connected via video.

Their chats started innocently with jokes and flirting, but then Erika made a unique request.

“Hey, Theresa, I need a favor. No pressure, but I need inspo for my art class. We’re doing life drawings, and I’m struggling. Could you send me a couple pics of you? Nude? Need some different poses to work with. I’ll show you the drawings when I’m done.”

Theresa had been terrified and curious at the same time. She’d never stripped naked for anyone. Someone else on the site had asked her, and she’d been skeeved out by the request. But this wasn’t perverted. Erika would study and interpret her photograph, like a famous work of art. And Erika was so talented. Theresa had seen lots of her illustrations. She’d set her favorite as her screen saver.

How could she say no?

Erika wasn’t some creepy internet predator. She was practically her girlfriend.

Nervous and excited, Theresa had closed her bedroom door, stripped off her clothes, and positioned her camera.

She’d turned this way and that way, feeling ridiculous as she tried to figure out the best angle to present her body. She didn’t have the same curves as the other girls in her school. Her mother said she was all skin and bones. Still, she hoped Erika would appreciate the pictures.

But then, after sending the photos off, she had a panic attack.

Would Erika like them? Would she be disgusted? Would she laugh at Theresa’s skinny legs and the way her thighs and calves were practically the same size?

In hindsight, it would’ve been so much better if Erika had mocked her. She might’ve been able to make a clean break.

“Have I not made myself clear?” Erika’s malicious, taunting voice pulled Theresa from her memories and back to the present.

Every time she tried to deny Erika, she failed. But not this time.

She lifted her chin. “I said I don’t want to.”

“No one asked you what you want. I’m telling you what you’re going to do. Now get to it. I don’t have all day.”

“No.” Heart pounding, Theresa’s voice cracked as she tried again to make her stand. “I’m logging off. I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“If you don’t start stripping right now, you and I are going to have problems. I could have anyone, but I chose you. This is how you repay me?”

Theresa gripped the sides of her head in frustration. Everything had changed the day she sent Erika her nude photos.

What had started as a request for a couple of harmless photos quickly turned into demands for more. And soon, pictures weren’t enough. Erika started requiring recorded videos of Theresa, naked and touching herself.

That was when the blackmail began.

“Do I need to send Pastor Joseph a copy of your last video feed? What would you think he’d say to that?” Erika laughed, a sound so heartless, it hurt Theresa’s ears. “Filthy, perverted little lesbian who likes to masturbate for strangers on the internet.”

“Stop it. It’s over!” Theresa croaked. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment as she slammed the laptop shut. Tears streamed down her face as she ran downstairs and threw herself onto the couch.

What was she going to do if Erika sent pictures and videos to her pastor or let him know her secret?

If she told Pastor Joseph, he’d shame her and her mom. The church would ban her. Her mother would be crushed.

Theresa had to obey Erika. There was no way out.

But she needed to find a way out. She couldn’t continue to live in absolute misery. She was a Lucasak, and Lucasaks were fighters. When her mother got home, Theresa would tell her everything.

Her mom wouldn’t judge her or condemn her. And neither would Aunt Susan. Of that, she was certain. They’d both been talking about leaving that particular church, saying that since Pastor Joseph arrived, he’d gotten madder and meaner instead of uplifting and kind. They’d even talked about finding a new church focused more on following the love of Jesus than on the wrath of God.

They’d figure this out together.

For the first time in a long time, a sense of peace wrapped around Theresa like a warm, comforting blanket. Everything would be okay.

***

Loud, incessant banging startled Theresa awake. She pulled a cushion over her head. Maybe if she ignored it, the noise would stop, and she could go back to sleep.

More pounding.

Theresa opened her eyes and blinked a few times, taking in her surroundings despite her sleep-addled brain. She had no idea how long she’d been asleep on the couch, but it must’ve been a while, if her mom was home.

The knock sounded again.

With a groan, she stood, rubbing her eyes as she padded across the carpet. “Coming!”

This was the second time this week her mom had forgotten her keys. The first time was after a holiday party at a church member’s house a few days before. What would her mom do without her?

Another knock.

She reached the door, unlocked the dead bolt, and flung it open. “Good grief, Mom. Patience is a virtue. That’s what you always—”

A figure in blue jeans, a black jacket, and a black ski mask pushed past her, knocking her to the side before shutting and locking the door.

Shock rippled through Theresa. This wasn’t her mother, and something was very, very wrong.

She spun around, backing up until she bumped into the wall. “What…who…please don’t…hurt me.”

Cold gray eyes stared at her through the tiny holes in the mask. “It’s so nice to finally meet you in person, Theresa.” The voice was deep, male. “I’ve been waiting for this moment.”

If this was one of her cousin’s twisted pranks, it wasn’t funny. But what if it wasn’t a joke?

Theresa took a step toward the door. “Who…who are you? How do you…know me?”

The intruder laughed. “Come on, Theresa. Use your brain. You know who I am.”

She squinted. She didn’t recognize him as one of her teachers, or even someone from church or a friend of her mom’s. And if he wanted her to know who he was, why was he wearing a mask?

“Are…are you looking for my mom? Because she’s—”

“Out with your aunt until at least midnight.” The man’s chapped, cracked lips stretched into a lazy grin. “Yes, I know. You told me. Remember?”

Panic rose in Theresa’s chest. How the hell did he know that? She hadn’t told anyone about her mom and Aunt Susan’s plans.

No one except…

“Erika.” She breathed the word as her heart beat like a bass drum. “Did she send you?”

The man took a step toward her, smile widening. “You could say that.”

Her stomach clenched. The only person she could think of who Erika would send after her was maybe her dad. If Erika had shown him the videos, maybe he’d come here to threaten her…to tell her how sick and twisted she was, and to stay away from his daughter…

She swallowed hard. “I…I don’t know what she’s told you, but I can explain. I’ll never do anything like…that again. I promise.” Her cheeks burned. “There must be a mistake. I’m so sorry. I won’t…I won’t talk to her anymore. So you can just…leave now.”

He took another step toward her. “As much fun as watching you bumble like an idiot is, we’re running out of time.” He peeled back his glove and checked his watch. “It’s already eight fifteen. What if your mom skips the movie and comes home early?”

Theresa had no idea what they were running out of time for, and she was pretty sure she didn’t want to find out. “Do you…want to talk to her?”

His laugh scared her like nothing else he’d done. “No, Theresa. It’s you I want to…talk to.”

“O-okay.” Maybe she could just keep him distracted until her mom got home. “Umm, what do you want to talk about?”

“You know what?” He unzipped his jacket a little and reached inside. “I’m tired of talking.”

Fear crawled down Theresa’s spine. She took a step to her left, inching along the wall. “I told you I’m sorry. I—”

“Shut up.” He withdrew his hand from his jacket, gripping something metal.

No. This isn’t happening. No.

He had a gun.

Theresa’s hand trembled as she eased it behind her, reaching for her cell phone in her back pocket. But it wasn’t there. She must’ve left the device on the floor by the couch.

He was just trying to scare her. “You don’t have to do this. I’ve learned my lesson.”

“No, I don’t think you have.” He pointed the gun at her face, and her legs turned to gelatin. “But don’t worry. I’m here to teach you one last lesson.” He reached into his jeans, producing a small packet of pills.

No. This can’t be real.

Hands trembling like branches on a windy day, Theresa eased them up. “Yes, I have. I’ll never do what I did again. Please…please believe me. Just let me go.”

“For once, you’re right.” He opened the packet. “You’ll never do that again. You’ll never disrespect me or tell me no again.”

The air left her lungs in a rush, and she struggled to take in a full breath, to think. “Disrespect…you?”

He smiled that cruel, cold smile again. “That’s right, Theresa. Me. I’m Erika.”

“But…you’re…”

“Did you really think you were talking to a teenage girl online? Come on.” He snorted. “I didn’t think you were that stupid. But apparently I was wrong.” Keeping one hand on the gun, he eased two fingers into the tiny packet and pulled out a pill. “It was easy. All I had to do was use a voice modulator and keep my face hidden in the videos. You believed me.”

No, no, no. Think. I have to think!

A lump formed in Theresa’s throat. “I’ll do anything. Please, please don’t hurt me.”

Waving the gun toward the center of the room, he laughed again. It was the same hollow laughter Erika had tormented her with. “Too late. Now, get over there.”

Theresa swiped at the tears dripping from her chin. “Do you want money? I can pay you. Just tell me how much.”

He pressed the gun against her temple, his other hand covering her mouth to muffle the scream exploding from her. “You swallow this, or I’ll blow your darling mother’s brains out when she gets home. I’ll hunt down everyone you love and kill them. They’ll die a slow, painful death. Your mom, your aunt, your cousins, your—”

“No!” Theresa’s denial came out muffled behind his hand. On leaden legs, she took a step toward the couch. Then another. And then a few more. His hand slipped from her face. Sobs racked her body, and she fought to get a breath. “If I take this, will…will you…”

Gun trained on her, he held out the pill. “Swallow this, and your family lives. Or I’ll kill them in front of you, starting with your mom. Your choice.”

Grief and hopelessness churned in Theresa’s gut. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Everything was supposed to be okay. They were going to figure out this mess together. “I—”

“I’ll kill her slowly. Maybe I’ll rape her first. But don’t worry, you’ll get to watch.”

The hopelessness turned to rage. Theresa hauled back and swung her fist at his gut, but he caught her arm and pulled her hard against him, grinding his pelvis against hers.

Revulsion roiled inside her. She yanked away from him. “Fuck you, whoever you are!” Before she could change her mind, Theresa snatched the pill, tossing it on the back of her tongue and swallowing.

I’m so sorry, Mom. I’ll love you forever.

Chapter Two

When Yvette Lucasak had entered the lobby of Hayat Investigations, Sky Stryker hadn’t been expecting to confront her past. Again.

The first days of the new year had dragged for her. Her current tasks in her new position as Sami’s office assistant bored her, and she couldn’t quite focus on writing her tell-all about the death of her dear friend Tessa Emerson. Working from home, she barely managed the energy to put on sweatpants, let alone anything dressier. But the new job required effort, a demand that’d forced her to at least throw on some white slacks and a canary-yellow cardigan that made her auburn hair pop.

Sky had convinced herself she enjoyed the slow cases after the holidays. Accusations of infidelity. Worries about stolen mail. Serving of legal documents. But a lack of last year’s high-pressure cases nagged at her. Inspiration for the tell-all dwindled, so that she struggled with putting words to page on her lunch break.

Yet here was Ms. Lucasak, a woman in her mid-to-late forties with her ash-blond hair pulled back in a straggly ponytail. Her bloodshot eyes hinted at days of crying. A promising if concerning case.

“The cops are useless. I don’t know what to do. I don’t have any proof. I just have a gut feeling, but they won’t even listen. Someone did this to my baby!”

Those words had spurred Sky into action. To curb the woman’s frantic pacing, she’d led her from the outer room into Sami’s well-appointed office and gotten her settled on the plush couch against the wall. Not that she could do anything else, with Sami out to lunch with Javier.

But then Ms. Lucasak had dropped a bomb on Sky’s head.

“My daughter. My Tessa. Theresa Marie Lucasak. She’s gone, dead. The police say it’s suicide, but it’s not.”

For a moment, Sky couldn’t breathe. Another girl dead, another mother in disbelief. And another girl named Tessa.

Forcing air into her lungs, she pulled herself together. “Let me get you some tissues.”

But just as she was about to rise, Ms. Lucasak grabbed her arm and yanked her back down. “She was only fourteen! A sweet girl, happy. She did not take her own life! My Tessa was just fourteen, don’t you see?”

And just like that, Sky was dizzy, weak, the breath sucked from her lungs as her memory shot her back into the worst day of her life.

Sky’s best friend had bled to death. Her balled-up shirt pressed to the wound in Tessa’s gut stuck to her fingers with the chill of that dark cave. Even though no more blood pumped from Tessa’s veins, Sky couldn’t bring herself to remove the shirt. For hours, as Tessa grew colder and colder, she’d pinned all her hopes of keeping her alive on that one scrap of cloth.

When Sky did finally give up—had to give up, because Tessa had stopped responding to Sky’s reassurances that she’d be okay—her own blood joined Tessa’s on her fingertips as she tried to dig out the cave-in locking them in. Without any tools, not even a good stick hidden in the dark, her hands would have to do.

For days, she dug. Alone. In the dark. With a corpse. When she finally broke free, those zigzag scars would decorate her hands for the next ten years, just as Tessa’s death would emboss her fourteen-year-old heart forever.

Before Sky could spiral further into the flashback, the doorbell chimed again.

Please be Sami. Please be Sami.

Sami, with his name on the business itself, wouldn’t have reason to ring his own doorbell, but she could hope.

“That might be Mr. Hayat. Wait here just one second, please.” Sky jumped up from the couch and hurried back to the lobby, where she found her best friend, Delia Shaw.

The willowy model removed her oversize sunglasses, running a hand over her short ebony hair before shoving them on top of her head.

“You don’t have to look so happy to see me.”

Sky pinched the bridge of her nose and shut the door to Sami’s office.

Delia’s eyebrows shot upward. “What’s wrong?”

Sky dropped her voice. “A woman just showed up here. She’s hysterical. Have you heard from Sami today? He’s supposed to be at lunch with Javier, but I could sure use him.”

Delia glanced at the closed door, chewing her bottom lip. “I haven’t talked to him since this morning. I was just stopping by to see if you were hungry. We could call him. How long ago did the woman get here?”

“Just a few minutes.” Sky paced back and forth in front of the reception desk. “Her daughter is dead of a presumed suicide, but she thinks the cops are wrong.”

“Okay…”

“Her fourteen-year-old daughter. She calls her Tessa.”

Delia froze, clearly understanding right away.

“Oh, Sky.” She pulled her friend into a hug. “I’ll come back with you. See if I can help.”

Sky gave Delia a nod of thanks.

The two of them paused a moment before Sky opened the door to Sami’s office. With a deep breath, she reentered, keeping her voice gentle. “Ms. Lucasak?”

Jittery, the woman glanced up from the couch, her watery gaze landing on Delia.

“This is a friend of mine. She sometimes helps out Mr. Hayat too.” Sky gestured toward the model. “Her name’s Delia Shaw. Oh, and I’m Sky Stryker, by the way. Delia, this is Yvette Lucasak.”

Stepping into the room, Delia extended her hand. Her demeanor was the picture of serenity as she greeted the agitated woman. “Hello, Ms. Lucasak. Mind if I sit with you?”

The distraught mother shook Delia’s hand before wiping tears from her eyes. “No, go ahead.”

Sky couldn’t help marveling at how Ms. Lucasak already seemed more relaxed. Delia just had that effect on people.

Delia curled her leg onto the couch and took a seat. “Sky tells me you have some concerns about your daughter’s…”

Ms. Lucasak’s mouth trembled, and Sky feared the woman was about to lapse into a bout of tears. But instead, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she reopened them, her gaze was clear, and she seemed more lucid. “I’m here…because my teenage daughter was murdered.”

Sky’s heart sank as she snatched a pen and paper to take notes.

“Oh, my god. I’m so very sorry.” Delia took the older woman’s hand. “What was her name?”

Her lip quivered, but she lifted her chin with resolve. “Theresa Marie, but I called her Tessa. She was…she was only fourteen.”

Delia met Sky’s eyes briefly before turning back to Ms. Lucasak.

Murdered. Only fourteen years old. If the grieving mother was right, some asshole robbed this girl of her life…just like—

Sky bit the inside of her cheek, willing the instant wave of nausea to subside. She took a steadying breath. This wasn’t Tessa Emerson. Sky hadn’t been able to stop the man who’d murdered her best friend a decade ago, and it was already too late for her to save this girl.

But she could seek justice for the young woman who shared the same name.

Pull yourself together.

She sat at the table beside the couch and wrote down this Tessa’s full name and age, hoping neither woman noticed her jittery hand. Then she peered up, shooting Ms. Lucasak a sympathetic look. “Did you…were you the one who found her?”

Delia lifted an eyebrow, and Sky understood the silent message. This is clearly hitting too close to home for you. Leave it to me. I’ve got this.

Ms. Lucasak seemed oblivious to their unspoken conversation. She blew out a shaky breath. “Y-yes. I’d been out with my sister. Tessa didn’t want to go. When I got home,” she swallowed hard, “she was in the living room. On the floor. I ran to her and felt her. She was cold. My baby died while I was buying useless crap and then going to a movie. I was…totally oblivious.” A tear ran down her cheek.

Delia squeezed the woman’s hand, released it, and stood. She grabbed a box of tissues from a nearby side table, offering them to Ms. Lucasak as she rejoined her on the sofa. “I know this isn’t easy, but was anything out of the ordinary in your house?”

Ms. Lucasak accepted the tissues, dabbing her cheeks. “Not really. No sign of an intruder, if that’s what you’re asking. And the police didn’t find any fingerprints. But I know my daughter didn’t kill herself.”

Sky took a deep breath. Last year, just before Thanksgiving, she’d had similar conversations about a dear friend of hers. Sky’s college roommate, the Broadway playwright Chloe Foster, was discovered hanging in a theater. Chloe’s mother hadn’t believed Chloe’s death was a suicide. Neither had Sky. And they’d been right.

Listening to the distraught woman, Sky was inclined to believe a mother’s insistence.

She jotted down a note, exchanging a glance with Delia and mouthing autopsy as Ms. Lucasak blew her nose.

Delia toyed with her watch. “Was there an autopsy?”

“Yes. They wanted to learn why a healthy teenager died. The medical examiner found a high dose of fentanyl in her system.” Tears streamed down her face, but she managed to resume her story even while her voice quivered. “The police won’t help me because they think my daughter died by suicide, but I know she was murdered. They just don’t want to hear me out.”

Sky frowned and leaned forward. Suicides always caught family members off guard. The warning signs were often there, but unless someone paid close attention, they were easy to overlook. “Forgive me for asking this, Ms. Lucasak, but why do you believe she was murdered?”

Ms. Lucasak sniffled as she met Sky’s stare. “Because a mother knows. I know my daughter. She wouldn’t have done this. She’d changed for the better over the last couple of weeks. Before she…died.”

Sky didn’t want to further upset this poor woman with her next question, but she needed to ask. “Do you have any idea where she could have come in contact with fentanyl?”

“No. Tessa never would have experimented with drugs like that. Not willingly.” Ms. Lucasak wiped her eyes. “I think whoever she was talking to online killed her.”

“She was talking to someone online?” Sky made another note.

“Yes.” Ms. Lucasak’s expression grew meek. “I snooped on Tessa’s phone one night and found a bunch of messages from a girl named Erika. They’d met on some kind of app called ZipChat.” Her face twisted with confusion. “Thing is, after Tessa’s death, I tried finding all the text messages Erika sent her, but they were gone! Just disappeared. I know that sounds crazy, but I know what I saw. I didn’t dream up those texts. Or Erika, for that matter.”

Sky knew Ms. Lucasak would understand her daughter’s habits and personality better than she, but she also knew teenagers were not open books. Theresa could have been into many things her mother didn’t know about.

“This Erika had something to do with my baby’s death.” Her pleading gaze darted from Delia to Sky. “Can you help me prove it?”

Sky opened her mouth to say yes, but she couldn’t accept a case without consulting with Sami. “We’ll need more information first. Do you have your daughter’s phone, ma’am?”

“Yes, just not on me. I have all her electronic devices. The police gave them back when they decided her death was a suicide.” Her eyes flashed with anger. “They thought she was just a dramatic teenager, upset that her life wasn’t perfect.”

“Okay.” Sky kept her voice sympathetic. “We’ll talk to Mr. Hayat, our lead private investigator. In the meantime, can you go home and gather the electronics? We’ll meet back here in a couple hours?”

“Thank you.” Ms. Lucasak rubbed her eyes. “I hate that the police didn’t do more…that they didn’t work harder.”

Sky had once shared Ms. Lucasak’s frustration with the New York Police Department. But after collaborating with a few good officers on the many cases she’d unfortunately been part of, she knew how hard they worked to seek justice. “Can I get your contact information?”

Ms. Lucasak gave Sky both her phone number and address.

“Thank you for coming in, Ms. Lucasak. We’ll see you soon.”

The woman gave an absentminded nod as she stood and allowed Sky to escort her to the door.

Sky patted the mother’s arm. “We’ll be in touch as soon as we’ve spoken to Mr. Hayat.”

After Ms. Lucasak was gone, Delia exhaled like she’d been holding her breath. “Well, that was heavy.”

“Tell me about it.” Sky took a seat in one of the lobby chairs. “Life sure as hell isn’t fair.”

Delia took the seat next to her and rubbed Sky’s back. “Not at all. Do you think this girl died by suicide or that someone murdered her?”

“Hard to say without being able to see the ZipChat conversations.” Sky stood to get her phone. “I’d better call Sami.”

The pain in Ms. Lucasak’s voice haunted her as much as the coincidence of Theresa’s nickname. It echoed Sky’s own pain from losing her Tessa at the same age. Before she even dialed Sami’s number, she knew she would do whatever she could to help.