The Masked Truth by Kelley Armstrong

Author:Kelley Armstrong [Armstrong, Kelley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Young Adult, Mystery
ISBN: 9780385684767
Publisher: Doubleday Canada
Published: 2015-10-13T04:00:00+00:00

MAX: LUCIDITY

Lucidity: the ability to think clearly, especially in the intervals between periods of confusion or insanity.

Max’s doctor says that he’s almost always lucid. Which Max supposes is true, if you consider a lack of lucidity the true descent into madness. He doesn’t spend much time in that realm, but it seems he circles the edges far too often, peeking over the border and judging the distance between it and himself, waiting for a burst of insanity to knock him clear over the line.

He has to think hard to recall the last time he’d trodden as close to the edge as he did a few minutes ago, when Riley came in the room. He didn’t even hear her enter. What he’d heard was his name in her voice, the horrified way she whispered, “Max?” and he looked up to see her crouched beside Aaron’s body, and it was like before, when Ilsa walked in on him with his hands around Justin’s neck.

No, it was not like before. Not exactly. As much as he’d fancied Ilsa, it had been one of his usual fancies, rather like spotting a new pair of boots in the vintage shop and saying, “I wouldn’t mind a pair of those.” He was a young man who had little trouble winning young women, and that was like being a young man with a full wallet. He spent his charm freely, on this girl or that, never promising more than a bit of fun.

And no, not that bit of fun, not yet. He’d seen too many blokes fall down that particular rabbit hole, convinced they were just having that fun, until they had it with a girl who expected more and they felt like rubbish. Then there was his friend Harrison, whose bit of fun resulted in a pregnant girlfriend and an early exit from sixth form, because he was a decent bloke and had a sprog to pay for. No, Max spent his charm freely and widely—take in a film or a row down the river, maybe a romantic picnic, because girls seemed to prefer that to an evening in a noisy pub, and it’d win him easy kisses and often more, but before it went far, he’d lose interest and wander off. Next girl, please.

That was Ilsa. A girl he’d had his eye on and planned to invite to a film and perhaps a picnic if the film worked out.

That was not Riley. When he’d seen the horror in her eyes as she crouched beside Aaron’s body, it was worse. So much worse. Because he cared about her. Really cared. And in that moment, he was certain he’d done it. That he’d hallucinated Aaron tinkering with the gun, as he’d hallucinated Justin’s demons, and he’d shot Aaron. Somehow he shot Aaron, and Riley knew it and—

And then she’d hugged him, and he’d realized her horror was for Aaron’s death. Of course it was, you self-centered prat. But that hadn’t made him feel any better, because once

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