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As painful as it was, I forced my mind to replay Lynette's story. She went into the parking lot alone, a man from the shadows ... a needle pricking her arm. A NEEDLE PRICKING HER ARM. The similarity between Lynette's abduction and my murder leapt out at me. Was there a connection? Could there be someone who hated me so much that first he tried to destroy that which was most dear to me, and then, when I was on the verge of putting my life back together again, sent me to my grave?
I stared into the clear water that could no longer reflect my being. I will find out who you are, I vowed. And when I do, you'll wish you had never been born.