"Everyone is lying. Even to themselves."
You wake up next to your best friend's body with blood on your hands and gaps in your memory. You should call for help. You should tell someone what you remember. But you don't—because the fragments you do recall could destroy your future, shatter your family, and expose the forbidden relationship that was supposed to stay secret.
You stay silent. Because the worst part isn't what you can't remember—it's realizing that maybe you've been lying to yourself all along. Someone in your town knows what really happened that night. Someone is watching you unravel. And they'll do whatever it takes to make sure the truth stays buried.
But secrets have a way of clawing their way to the surface, and yours might just destroy you before someone else does.