She couldn't take her eyes from the reflected image, slanted along the glass-topped table. It wasn't possible. Had to be a nightmare. Had to be an explanation. She was going nuts. There had to be something, because if there wasn't …
… she'd been wrong. About everything. Black was white. Up was down. The world suddenly shattered into a million pieces and reformed; all her enlightened, self-righteous opinions, all her preconceived notions, all the complete – crap – she'd believed, had spouted … a lie.
There's no such thing as monsters, Lisa.
All a lie. That wasn't Ben.
It was a monster.