The tremors began at dawn-violent, betraying shudders that stole her consciousness. This time, the seizure left blood on the garage floor, a bemused realization that alcohol was not her friend, and an ultimatum from fiancée Sergeant Hunter Faraday: Rehab or we call off the engagement. His voice, steady as a sniper's breath, named the facility-Woodlawn Acres Wellness Center. Safe. Discreet. But deep down, private investigator Olivia Callahan suspected the slick brochure he'd given her masked the stench of corruption.
She wondered at the cautious steps in the night. Forced over-medicating. Mysterious meetings with the small-town mayor and his meek wife. Then her best friend, Callie, hit her with the news of her husband's parole and his ultimatums regarding their daughter: "I'll be Daddy again," he'd texted. "Even if I have to bury you to do it."
Desperate to leave the rehab facility to help Callie and return to her firm, Watchdog Investigations, she checks the daily onslaught of pills, spitting them into a worn, hollowed-out paperback, nodding through daily therapy sessions, mapping the facility at night, and unearthing clues in locked closets with a stolen keycard. Then, one afternoon, the glint of a syringe. The orderlies with dead eyes called it "stabilization." Now, she's positive the forces arrayed against her are unwavering in their resolve to preserve their secrets. In a chilling moment of clarity, she realizes that this time, her indomitable will and the ever-valiant Hunter Faraday might not be enough to save her.
