“Isn’t that what they all say? It was only one time. It was an accident, an error of judgment, something completely out of character, something they’ll never do again. It didn’t mean anything. She didn’t mean anything. Yeah, that is what they all say, but only once they get caught. They’re not sorry for what they’ve done. They’re sorry that you know what they’ve done. And Bob’s no different. He’s just like the rest of them.”

Sarah Morgan’s internal monologue during her and Bob Miller’s legal meeting introduces the theme of Trust and Betrayal in Intimate Relationships. Although she and Bob have been married for over a decade, Sarah’s private thoughts reveal that she has never trusted Bob, simply because he is a man. She has operated under the guise of a faithful and loving wife since she and Bob got together, but she has always seen Bob as no different than her first husband Adam. Because there’s no trust in her relationship, the couple’s marriage cannot last.

“It used to be him giving the commands around here. But not anymore. Things change, and apparently, so do people—for the worse, that is. Ryan was slipping for a while there. Then about a year ago, he started spiraling out of control, and it didn’t take long for the community to notice their sheriff was a drunk. At first, they took pity on him, but that didn’t last long either. There was a petition, a protest, and finally a recall around five months ago. He was out, and shortly thereafter, I was elected as the new sheriff.”

Marcus Hudson’s assessment of his former boss and sheriff Ryan Stevens captures The Impact of the Past on the Present. Marcus worked under Stevens for years; he is intimate with Stevens’s personal history and feels that Stevens’s choices and life path are integral to his own story. The way that Stevens behaved in the past directly impacts how Marcus perceives his police work in the present. With this short and straightforward account of his predecessor’s downfall, Marcus also establishes the past that he will have to overcome.

“This view used to bring me peace, but now I don’t know what it brings me. With no wind today, the water looks like a sheet of glass, fragile enough to shatter if I just dipped a finger into it. The clouds are dark and heavy, almost ready to fall apart. I could say the same for myself. First, my marriage. Then, these clouds. And then me.”

Bob’s use of figurative language in this passage captures his tumultuous state of mind. He likens his internal state to that of the water he is studying and the darkening clouds overhead. He feels fragile like the placid water, capable of falling apart with the least bit of stimulation, but he also feels as “dark and heavy” as the clouds, ready to burst open at any minute. He is in a tenuous psychological and emotional state, which foreshadows how he’ll react when Sarah tries to bring him down.

“Poor Kelly. I thought maybe we got it right, that we got justice for her, but honestly, the whole investigation never sat right with me. It was too easy. And then there was that mess of a trial. I don’t know much about the court side of the law, but Sarah Morgan acting as her husband’s defense attorney in a homicide case was clearly a conflict of interest, and the commonwealth never challenged it.”

Marcus’s meditations on the Kelly Summers case reiterate his desperation to transcend the past by making different decisions in the present. He knows that he and his team did shoddy police work when they were investigating Kelly’s murder. His reflective tone in this passage captures his desire to atone for these errors and to determine the truth of what happened. He perceives the pursuit of justice as a way to overcome his past.

“Brad’s in the dark about that time in my life. He was living in another state when this all happened, and we’d lost touch. When he moved to the DC area around five years ago, we reconnected, but I never mentioned any of it to him. Why would I? It was in the past and it was supposed to stay there.”

Bob’s decision to withhold the details of his former life from his lawyer Brad underscores the impact of the past on the present. Bob knows that if he were to tell Brad about “that time in his life” (the period where he was involved with Kelly, Sarah, and Adam) he would risk outing himself as a criminal. He wants to believe that the past will stay in the past and keeps the truth from Brad for as long as possible.

“But now I can’t help but think: Did he have something to do with leaking it to the media? Like me, he has friends in all places, both high and low. Would he be that stupid or desperate? Would he think it would stop me from leaving him? No, I’m being paranoid. I shake the thought away.”

Sarah’s internal monologue has a worried, anxious tone that reveals her state of mind. She is skilled at maintaining a placid, unaffected facade, but her interiority is more chaotic, highlighting The Tension Between Private Identity and Public Image. The series of questions emphasizes her growing anxiety because she is secretly terrified that Bob will try to destroy her to save himself. There is no trust in her and Bob’s relationship, but when she accuses herself of paranoia, she tries to “shake the thought away” so as not to disrupt the cool exterior she presents to the world.

“I don’t want it to come off as too rehearsed. I figure the public and the media will think our office knew about the corruption for a long time if I do. But the shit storm Ryan’s caused has barely begun. It’s gonna hang over my head, raining down accusations, lawsuits, terminations, budget cuts, firings, smear stories in the press—like tennis ball—sized hail trying to crush everyone and everything in this building.”

Marcus’s internal preparations for his press conference contribute to the novel’s explorations of the tension between personal identity and public image. Marcus is one of the more morally upright characters, and he seeks truth and justice because he is operating by an ethical and legal code. Here, he assesses not only the moral implications of a lie but also the possible career ramifications, showing that he is aware of the practical results of his actions.

“My shirt collar suddenly feels too tight around my neck. A bead of sweat trickles down my back, and I tense, trying to keep from squirming at the sensation. My heart rate hastens. I can feel it in my wrist, beating against this cold metal table. I need to pivot, and I need to do it fast. Readying myself to go into full lawyer mode, I clear my throat and my mind.”

The vivid language and sensory detail used in this passage enact Bob’s anxious state of mind. At the sheriff’s office for police questioning, he does his best to clear his “throat and mind,” but his body betrays him with an acute physiological response. His shirt tightens “around his neck,” “sweat trickles down his back,” he’s overwhelmed by a “squirming sensation,” his heart races, and his pulse quickens. Rose’s attention to specific body imagery captures the intensity of his guilt and fear.

“I’ve been on the force for thirteen years now, witnessing the worst of the worst. I’ve seen all forms of evil, gruesome crime scenes, bodies in every stage of decay. You carry all of that with you even if you don’t want to. The best way to deal with it is to talk about it—or at least that’s what Pam says.”

Marcus’s reflections on his police work and his relationship with Pam capture the impact of the past on the present. For Marcus, the past is defined by errors in judgment and by horrific instances of violence. While most of the novel’s other characters think that they can overcome the past by burying it, Marcus is of a different mind. Via Pam, he’s learned that confronting and “talking about it” is a healthier way of healing from his trauma and righting his mistakes.

“Most psychopaths can compartmentalize, and that’s exactly what Sarah is. It’s why she was able to stab Kelly thirty-seven times and then show up for work the next day like nothing out of the ordinary had happened. She and I are alike in that sense.”

The way that Bob thinks about Sarah complicates her character’s presentation on the page. While Sarah often holds that she’s done nothing wrong or has nothing to be ashamed of, Bob sees her as a one-dimensional psychopath who’s incapable of remorse. At the same time, Bob also admits in this passage that he and Sarah are alike in their compartmentalizing tendencies. This is one of the only passages where Bob owns his dubious morality, but this one moment of self-reflection isn’t enough to truly motivate him to change.

“I’m not sure if it’s a good idea to have him around as I don’t know what he’s capable of. I know what his file says, what he’s done, or at least what he was held legally responsible for. But that doesn’t mean it entails every horrible act he’s ever committed. After all, my record is clean as a whistle.”

The way that Sarah thinks about Alejandro Perez’s character provides insight into her character. She isn’t sure that Alejandro is trustworthy and wonders if he’s capable of betraying her. At the same time, she is withholding judgment because she knows that they aren’t so different. The moment nuances Sarah’s character, suggesting that although she is capable of committing gruesome crimes, she is also capable of empathizing with others and owning her darker tendencies.

“She’s trying to be nonchalant, pretend like nothing is wrong and that I’m the only one acting out. She did the same thing to Adam, made him crazy, while she slowly destroyed him in the background. The only difference is that I’m onto her.”

Bob’s internal monologue during his interaction with Sarah develops the theme of trust and betrayal in relationships. Although Sarah is acting “nonchalant” and “like nothing is wrong,” Bob sees her demeanor as a front, understanding how she navigates the tension between private identity and public image. He mistrusts Sarah’s behavior because he has always seen Sarah as the violent, scorned woman who will do anything to destroy the people who betray her.

“I mean…because it doesn’t matter how long we’ve been together. Time isn’t an anchor. It’s not something to hold you in place just because of how long you’ve been in that place. Like, for instance, how long were you in prison?”

This scene of dialogue between Sarah and Alejandro reveals Sarah’s psychology. Sarah is speaking about her relationship with Bob and claiming that their history as a couple has no bearing on their relationship at present. She compares time to an anchor and marriage to prison—metaphors that evoke notions of weight and entrapment—because this is how she regards both the past and intimate relationships.

“I pound my fist against the brick wall and grimace. Brad just doesn’t get it. He doesn’t understand the full scope of what’s really going on. He doesn’t know what Sarah’s done or what she’s willing to do to protect herself.”

Bob’s display of physical aggression captures the intensity of his psychological frustration. He has convinced himself that he is completely alone, that Sarah is out to get him, and no one understands his plight. Because he regards the world in this way, he feels trapped. His only recourse is punching a brick wall, a physical representation of the unsurmountable obstacle that he is facing.

“I gulp it, readying myself to tell Summer because I just can’t put it off any longer. I wasn’t much older than her when my mother had to sit me down for a similar conversation. The only difference is I’m telling Summer that her dad and I are separating, whereas my mom told me my dad was dead. The news I received was far worse, and I got through it, and so will she.”

Sarah’s internal monologue before her conversation with Summer about the divorce reveals how her past continues to impact her present. Sarah does claim to love Summer, but she sees her daughter through the lens of her own experience, specifically her childhood trauma. She is trying to convince herself that Summer will be fine because she had to be okay after her own father died.

“Bob’s always had a God complex. Most narcissists do. He thinks he’s more important, more memorable, more charming, more interesting, more of everything than he actually is.”

The way that Sarah thinks about Bob reiterates both her self-regard and her mistrust of her husband. She distills Bob’s entire character to one diagnosing term, and in deeming him a narcissist, she can justify her actions against him. Sarah often tries to demonize Bob to avoid culpability for her own crimes, which Bob also does, in return.

“It’s true what they say. You can get used to anything—like reporters warming and shouting out questions or comments nearly every time I pull up to the office. […] I exit my vehicle and hold my head high because I have nothing to be ashamed of.”

Sarah’s response to and mode of dealing with the reporters outside of the Morgan Foundation captures the tension between personal identity and public image. Sarah holds her “head high” as she pushes through the sea of media personnel because she’s skilled at presenting a blameless persona to the world. She has also convinced herself that she has “nothing to be ashamed of,” enabling her to fully embody this innocent persona to the media.

“I did steal from him. I did take advantage of his inebriated state. I targeted him because I knew he had money and a wife. That’s my type. Being an event model doesn’t pay the bills, but fucking over other people sure does. It’s a risky business […] but I never thought it could land me six feet under—and at this point, that’s only if I’m lucky.”

Stacy Howard’s internal monologue nuances the novel’s explorations of the impact of the past on the present. Trapped, alone, and afraid in the lake house’s basement, Stacy’s circumstances compel her into self-reflection. For the first time, she takes ownership of her past actions and tries to make sense of their consequences, showing signs of wanting to change and transcend her complex past.

“She turns and waves, and I wave back, smiling. Children are resilient. They go through change every day—their bodies growing, their brains developing—so they can accept it and adapt to it much faster than adults. She’ll be okay, just like I was.”

Sarah’s thoughts about her daughter Summer’s state of mind reiterate her desperation to be in control. She is again trying to convince herself that Summer will be unaffected by the divorce and her own crimes. Once again, she attempts to justify her actions by paralleling Summer’s experience to her own. Her repetition of the idea that if she could “get over” her past, Summer can, too, however, belies her underlying understanding that it is more complicated than that.

“I blink several times just to make sure I’m not imagining it. When I open them, it’s still there. Cautiously, I pick it up. It’s cold against my skin and heavier than it looks. The light catches the silver metal, making it glint. When I bring it to my line of sight, the cylinder ejects. I sigh with relief as two of the six holes have no light passing through them, the bullets nestled snugly in their escape pods, waiting to be ejected into orbit.”

Stacy’s discovery of the gun in the basement amplifies the narrative tension. The moment also foreshadows Bob’s death in the coming scenes, using a popular trope based on a literary principle developed by Anton Chekov (The Seagull, The Cherry Orchard), which states that a loaded gun established in a narrative always has to go off before the end of the story. When Stacy finds the gun and discovers that it has two bullets left, the narrative implies that she will use it to kill whoever she believes kidnapped and hurt her. The image of the bullets leaving their pods to be “ejected into orbit” linguistically portends Bob’s fate, too.

“After a few minutes of tricking my mind to ignore the blood and the lifeless face, I finally clear the call log, delete Alejandro’s number and all of our messages, and then snap the phone in half. […] In the bathroom, I toss water on my face and find my reflection in the mirror. I stare at the man looking back. Tears stream down my face, and I begin to chuckle.”

Bob’s response to Sarah’s alleged death captures the disparity between his real identity and his projected image. Bob is trying to control his emotions when he sees the images of Sarah’s “lifeless face” because he feels sorry that Sarah is dead. However, he also immediately destroys the evidence of her death (smashing the phone and tossing water on his face) because he doesn’t want to meditate on this reality and feels guilty for bringing it about. He then studies his face and starts to laugh—an emotive response that reveals how conflicted Bob feels.

“I wanted him to make the first move…or at least think he was making the first move. The moment I laid eyes on Alejandro, seated in my conference room, waiting for me to welcome him into the program, I knew he wasn’t who he said he was.”

Sarah’s internal monologue about Alejandro acts as another plot twist. In her narration, she reveals that she always had her suspicions about Alejandro despite how kindly she behaved toward him. This passage reiterates Sarah’s identity as the “intelligent psychopath” trope who will do anything to manipulate others if it means protecting herself.

“Now, they’ve got to make sure all these pieces fit together into a narrative they can sell to the public, the media, and the justice system. I know it all will go together perfectly, and it will tell an unbelievable story everyone will eventually come to believe. After all, truth is stranger than fiction, or at least that’s what people will say when they hear it.”

Marcus’s reflections on his police investigation and its outcome act as a social commentary on the justice system. He is glad that the case is over and that he’s found a resolution. At the same time, he knows that this resolution might have been too easy. Either way, he is pleased that the case will create an ideal story for public consumption. Justice, the novel therefore suggests, is just a game that can be manipulated.