An English professor’s deadly past comes back to haunt her in this chilling and sexy thriller from #1 New York Times bestselling author Vi Keeland. As a college English professor, Elizabeth looks forward to the start of each new semester teaching her creative writing seminar. At least until she reads chapter one of The Reckoning , a tale about a high school senior who has an affair with her teacher. To anyone else it would be the beginning of a great page-turner, but to Elizabeth it is the beginning of the end. She knows this story. It’s all familiar because she lived it. The girl in the story was her best friend Jocelyn, and Elizabeth knows exactly how the story will end—with the professor dead. Because she was the one who killed him. Someone knows what Elizabeth did twenty years ago and her secret is about to be exposed, but who is the mystery student submitting the chapters? In an effort to find out, Elizabeth returns to her Louisiana hometown where it soon becomes clear that no matter how many years have gone by, she can’t escape her past. “Twisty, gripping, and impossible to put down, SOMEONE KNOWS kept me guessing until the very end! Vi Keeland delivers an electrifying thriller with a heroine as complex as she is compelling.” -- Elle Kennedy, New York Times bestselling author “Keeland keeps her foot on the gas from the first page to the last, and she makes it nearly impossible to root against Elizabeth, despite her transgressions. Readers will be up all night.” ― Publishers Weekly *Praise for THE UNRAVEING* "Keeland's lyrical writing is...beautiful." ― USA TODAY "I loved it! Wow, that ending! A sizzling ride down a dark path, with a twist that you won't see coming." -- Sarina Bowen, USA Today bestselling author of The Five Year Lie "Brilliant and twisty. Keeps you on the edge of your seat until the very last sentence!" -- Penelope Ward, New Yorks Times bestselling author "There is no one else but Vi Keeland that can make me go through all these emotions." -- Natasha Madison, USA Today bestselling author "There's just something about this author's writing style that draws you in every single time and doesn't let go." -- Booklover4life Vi Keeland is a #1 New York Times , #1 Wall Street Journal , and USA TODAY bestselling author. With millions of books sold, her titles are currently translated in twenty-six languages and have appeared on bestseller lists in the US, Germany, Brazil, Bulgaria, Israel, and Hungary. Three of her short stories have been turned into films by Passionflix, and two of her books are currently optioned for movies. She resides in New York with her husband and their three children where she is living out her own happily ever after with the boy she met at age six. Find out more at ViKeeland.com. Chapter 1 CHAPTER 1 May 20th. The date printed at the top of the newspaper startles me, and I drop it like it’s a hot coal that’s burned my hands. It falls to the floor in a scattered array of ink-stained stories. The man behind the counter frowns. “Sorry,” I offer as I bend, then do my best to shuffle the pages into order and place the paper back on top of the New York Post pile before moving to the magazine rack. Sports Illustrated has a racehorse on the cover. Mr. Hank, my old landlord, will like that, so I pluck it from the pile and head to the register to pay. It’s the third time I’ve been reminded of the date since I woke up, and it’s only 4 p.m. Normally, when I’m teaching summer classes, like I am now, I only go in twice a week, so I don’t even know what day it is. But May 20th isn’t just any day, I suppose. It’s the twenty-year anniversary of the day I’ll never forget. I leave the bodega and decide to walk the fifteen or so blocks to Mr. Hank’s assisted-living facility, rather than taking the subway. It’s beautiful out, and I still need to stop and pick up donuts. Plus, I don’t want to see him until I can clear my head. He’s struggling through dementia, so the last thing he needs is me bringing my anxiety for a visit. But my mind whirls as I walk, and not even the bright pink blossoms of the magnolia tree in Union Square Park can soothe the melancholy that lingers in my heart. I pass the High Note, the pub where I met Derek, the guy I used to hook up with before Sam, and look through the front window. Derek was a fireman. A few guys are sitting at the bar, probably firemen, too. They seem to occupy the place most evenings. I don’t have any desire to go in, but it gives me an idea, reminds me there’s a way to loosen the tight knot in my neck and take the edge off all the anxiety I feel today. So I reach into my pocket, pull out my cell, and type as I stroll past the bar. Elizabeth: Up for hanging out tonight? “Hanging out” sounds so much better than fucking me until I can’t think straight anymore . But running five miles this morning didn’t clear my head, and I’m sure Sam won’t mind. He’s always been the initiator of o