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lust at first sight. Johnny had been well-dressed, charming, and so sexy that she couldn’t help but be flattered when he’d started flirting with her. He’d made her feel young, beautiful, and desired, and she’d basked in the attention. They’d exchanged heated glances as they sipped their coffee, and before Charlene had known it, an hour later she was having unbridled sex with Johnny in one of the vacant units inside a small apartment building he’d managed. But what Charlene hadn’t known was that Johnny had a video camera set up in the room that had recorded every detail of their wild sexcapade.
    Johnny had blackmailed Charlene and had threatened to send copies to her colleagues, who held her in high esteem, to her neighbors, who respected her, to her children, who looked up to her, and to her husband’s divorce attorney, who would surely use the evidence against her. Charlene had gone along with his scheme for months until one fateful Saturday morning, when she learned just how despicable Johnny really was.
    Charlene had been at the hair salon when Johnny came walking in, pleading for his estranged wife’s forgiveness. Charlene had sat in the lobby with a towel over her head, looking on in shock as she realized that her hairstylist, Geneva, was Johnny’s wife. And added to that, Vivana had shown up, caused a scene, and then stomped out, but not before telling Johnny that he was a dead man who would regret ever meeting her. But what happened next pushed Charlene over the edge.
    When Charlene found out that Johnny’s reckless behavior had caused Geneva to miscarry, she’d decided to make sure Johnny would never harm another woman, and she got busy devising a plan to kill him. A week later Johnny was dead.
    â€œI should’ve known it was only a matter of time before what I did caught up with me,” Charlene said, shaking her head as she zipped in and out of lanes amidst the heavy rush hour traffic. Over the last two years Charlene had tried not to think about what would happen if the truth was ever discovered. But one very clear reminder that was always in the back of her mind was a cryptic text message she’d received from a blocked number a few months after Vivana had been convicted. The anonymous sender had called Charlene a murderer, and when Charlene had responded by asking who they were, their simple reply had been, “I’m the person who has proof that you murdered Johnny Mayfield .” She’d immediately deleted the text exchange and prayed it wasn’t the beginning of the end.
    But not since that day had Charlene heard so much as a peep from the anonymous person. She knew if she obsessed about the text, who’d sent it, and what evidence they had, she would eventually lose her mind. So she worked hard to live life as normally as she could, and there were times when the thought of being a murderer was a distant memory. But now everything was coming to the surface again, and she didn’t know what was going to happen next.
    Charlene ignored the honking horn accompanied by a middle finger from a motorist whom she’d just cut in front of because the only thing her mind could focus on was the trouble she was in. She thought about the deceitful things she’d had to do over the last two years—lying, stealing, falsifying documents, and manipulating people to her advantage—all to cover up the murder she’d committed. “What have I allowed myself to become?” she whispered to herself. “I don’t even know who I am anymore.”
    Charlene shook her head from side to side as she thought about Vivana Jackson—the woman behind the cause of her worries. Charlene had been in Geneva’s chair at G&D Salon getting the finishing touches on her freshly styled hairdo, when “ Breaking News ” flashed across the large TV screen on the wall, causing Charlene to nearly jump out of her seat. When she saw