Not all anniversaries are happy. Three years ago today, my husband was murdered. He died on the same date I lost my high-school best friend in a car crash. I’ve rebuilt my life since then. I have a steady job as a make-up artist and friends who love me. I’m happy – mostly. But today is still the anniversary of the two worst days of my life. So by the time I get home from work, all I want to do is curl up on my couch and distract myself with snacks and cheesy movies. I open my handbag and find something that shouldn’t be there. Something that sends a shiver down my spine. A small gift box, my name written unevenly across the lid. Inside is a message: Happy anniversary. Someone is trying to sabotage your life. And they won’t stop until you’re destroyed. And it’s written in a code my best friend invented before she died . . .