Bennett has an idyllic life. Married to a handsome and successful lawyer,
she spends her days writing novels in their beautiful Victorian home, nestled
onto a picturesque piece of property in the country. As a bestselling
author, Eleanor appears to have everything.
what no one knows, not even her husband Michael, is that Eleanor hides a dark
secret, one she vowed to take to her grave. Unfortunately, for Eleanor,
some secrets refuse to remain hidden forever. With the arrival of one
individual from her past, Eleanorís world is about to come crumbling down
Eleanor Bennett jumped
as the shadowed silhouette hovered on the other side of the patio door.
Her hand shook as it reached for the table beside her, steadying her as
her knees went weak. Leaning on the solid wood edge, she felt herself gasp
for air, having held her breath for too long. She clamped her
hand over her mouth, terrified that the intruder might have heard the
sound. Her feet seemed magnetized to the floor as her eyes darted
around the room. She had to think Ė couldnít panic.
The black outline of a
hand finally released the door handle. Eleanorís blood pumped
loudly in her ears in the silence. The shadow moved away from the
Somehow, she found the
strength to leave the sanctity of her spot in the dining room and headed
for the telephone in the kitchen. Her determined steps slapped
against the tile floor, sounding much heavier than her one hundred and
trying to quell the panic that had momentarily driven the familiar
telephone number of her nearest neighbor from her racing mind as she
jabbed at the telephone. She knocked the receiver from its cradle,
sending it crashing onto the kitchen floor with a loud thud. Bending
to pick it up, she froze as each tiny hair on the back of her neck
prickled. Now the intruder was at the front door.