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The Perfect Roommate by Minka Kent Read Online (FREE)

Lauren looks down. Thayer smirks. Elisabeth says nothing.

“You only needed a roommate so you had someone to frame,” I speak to Lauren. They had it all planned from the start. They wanted to find some quiet, awkward girl, rope her into their inner circle, plant evidence, then accuse her of being dangerously obsessed.

And it made sense why she kept saying I was perfect …

I was a blank canvas, unremarkable and impressionable, and she was planning her masterpiece.

This could’ve happened to anyone.

I just happened to be the first one to answer the ad. And I was exactly the person they were looking for. Someone socially lost and awkward, someone who needed friends. She saw exactly what I needed before I even knew I needed it—and then she used it against me.

Manipulative bitch.

Everything was a lie from the moment I walked into that house.

Everything.

And that day Thayer was grilling me about who Lauren might be sneaking around with? He was only fishing, only trying to see what I knew at that point. He was never some forlorn lover, some jealous boyfriend. He was only a man on a mission, trying to keep their little plan from falling apart.

“So what now? You’re going to shoot me?” My voice wavers, though I’m trying my damnedest to keep a brave face. “You don’t think it’ll raise any red flags to the police when the roommate of the girl who was sleeping with the professor who was murdered … winds up killed herself?”

Elisabeth tucks her chin against her chest, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Will one of you explain how this is going to go down. I can’t right now. It’s like slaughtering your pet chicken so you can eat it for dinner.”

“Yeah, we’d hate for you to have murder on your conscience.” Thayer speaks under his breath, rolling his eyes. He lowers his gun for a moment. “You know, Meadow, killing you wasn’t part of the plan. At all. We had our alibis locked down, our evidence planted. We just wanted the heat on someone else—we didn’t even intend for you to be convicted. But you kept digging and digging. And you couldn’t keep your mouth shut. And we had an agreement. If one of us goes down, we all go down. That’s why we couldn’t let you go to the police about Elisabeth. I mean, hell. You gave us a good scare when you marched down there and told them it was me.”

His jaw flexes, eyes squinting.

The police said he had an alibi: his sister.

Of course.

“Lauren, get some paper,” Elisabeth says. A moment later I’m being handed a notebook and a pen. “This is your confession. And your final goodbye.”

The pen shakes in my hand.

They’re staging a suicide.

My suicide.

 

Forty-Two

I’m hunched over Thayer’s coffee table, my hand trembling so violently I’m not sure I’ll be able to write my name, but I don’t have a choice.