It all started with the bereavement flowers with my name on them. Not the best way to wake up, right? I work in a flower shop. I know a funeral arrangement when I see one. I know a killer when I see one, too. And one is standing in my hospital room right now, straight behind the man who saved my life. I can’t tell anyone the truth, because that’s the fastest way to really die. So I do the next best thing. I “lose” my memory. I fake my amnesia. Pretending not to remember a brutal attempted murder has its perks. The killer is backing down, spending less time around me, loosening the noose. The less I claim to recall, the more my rescuer, Duff, works to help me “remember.” I hate lying to him. But he doesn’t understand that my memory is dangerous. To me. And to him. Fooling everyone isn’t easy. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Except it’s starting to look like I’ve been fooling myself. In more ways than one.