Sometimes I Lie

Sometimes I Lie Plot Summary

Introduction

Amber Reynolds awakens to a world of sterile white silence, trapped in a hospital bed where she can hear everything but speak nothing. Her body refuses to move, her voice has vanished, yet her mind remains razor-sharp and terrifyingly aware. The machines breathe for her while nurses discuss her condition as if she were already gone. But Amber is very much present, listening to every whispered conversation, every medical assessment, every revelation that slowly pieces together the puzzle of how she ended up here. Three truths anchor her fractured reality: she's in a coma, her husband Paul no longer loves her, and sometimes she lies. As fragments of memory surface like broken glass, Amber realizes the car crash that nearly killed her was no accident. Someone wanted her silenced, someone who knows her darkest secrets. In the suffocating quiet of her hospital room, she must navigate the labyrinth of her own deceptions to uncover which of her loved ones tried to murder her. Time is running out, and in a world where she can only observe and remember, Amber discovers that the most dangerous person in her life might be the one she trusts most.

Chapter 1: The Silent Observer: Awakening in Darkness

The first sensation is the weight of her wedding ring, heavier than she remembers, pulling her hand down like an anchor. Amber tries to open her eyes but her eyelids remain sealed shut, stubborn as rusted shutters. The smell hits her next—that antiseptic cocktail of bleach and despair that can only mean hospital. She wants to gag but her throat won't respond, something foreign lodged deep inside it, breathing for her when her lungs forget their purpose. Panic floods through her like ice water as the reality crystallizes. She can hear the nurses talking, their voices floating over her motionless body like she's already a corpse. "Poor love, what a mess," one of them murmurs, and Amber screams inside her head until her silent voice goes hoarse. Her name is Amber Reynolds, she's a radio presenter, she has a life that matters. But when she tries to tell them, no sound emerges from her lips. The machine beside her bed beeps with mechanical indifference, marking time in a world where time has lost all meaning. She catalogs her body from head to toe, surprised to find everything still attached, still whole despite the crushing pain that radiates from her skull like fractured lightning. The tube down her throat tastes of rubber and defeat, while her mouth feels like sandpaper against leather. Hours pass, or perhaps minutes—time has become elastic, bending around her immobility. The door opens and Paul's familiar cologne reaches her before his voice does. "I'm so sorry, Amber. I'm here now." His hand grips hers too tightly, his fingers trembling against her skin. She wants to squeeze back, to signal that she's trapped but aware, yet her hand remains limp as overcooked pasta. He speaks to her like she's already gone, his voice carrying an odd mixture of guilt and relief that makes her wonder what secrets he's keeping. When the doctor arrives, their conversation reveals fragments of her condition. She wasn't wearing a seatbelt when she crashed, traveling fast enough to go through the windshield like a human projectile. But Amber always wears her seatbelt, just like she always checks the oven three times and locks the door until the handle won't turn anymore. Someone else was driving that night, someone who wanted her dead.

Chapter 2: Weaving Webs: The Plot Against Madeline

Six months earlier, Amber sits in the cramped radio studio of Coffee Morning, watching her co-presenter Madeline Frost devour the morning show with practiced cruelty. Madeline is a woman built from accumulated bitterness, her black clothes hanging like funeral shrouds over her sagging frame. She treats the production team like servants, speaks to guests with barely concealed contempt, and views Amber as an irritating accessory she'd rather replace. The job was supposed to be Amber's fresh start after her television career imploded in a mess of workplace harassment and broken promises. Paul needed her to work, needed her to contribute something meaningful to their increasingly hollow marriage. But Madeline makes every day a psychological battlefield, undermining Amber's confidence with surgical precision. The breaking point comes during a meeting with Matthew, the show's editor. His pale fish lips struggle to form the words that will destroy her world: Madeline has delivered an ultimatum. Either Amber goes, or the star presenter will walk away from the show she's hosted for twenty years. Matthew gives Amber until New Year to change Madeline's mind, but they both know it's an impossible task. That evening, drowning her despair in wine at a local bar, Amber confides in Jo, her only friend at work. Jo has blonde hair that never seems to move and clothes that suggest she's frozen in the 1990s. Together they devise Project Madeline, a plan to turn the tables by making the veteran presenter believe her own job is in jeopardy. They'll plant seeds of doubt, spread rumors on social media, and convince Madeline that management is planning to replace her with someone younger and cheaper. The plan begins with anonymous letters in red envelopes, threatening messages that arrive at Madeline's home and office. Amber types them wearing white cotton gloves, her fountain pen dancing across the paper like a surgeon's scalpel. Each letter chips away at Madeline's confidence, suggesting someone knows her darkest secrets and plans to expose them unless she disappears from the airwaves forever.

Chapter 3: Ghosts of the Past: When Edward Returns

The collision happens on Oxford Street during the Christmas shopping rush. Amber has just left the office early, tears still wet on her cheeks from Matthew's brutal assessment, when she literally bumps into her past. Edward Clarke stands before her like a ghost made flesh, his white teeth gleaming against tanned skin that suggests expensive holidays and gym memberships. He looks exactly as he did ten years ago when she broke his heart and fled from their relationship without explanation. Edward's brown eyes hold the same mischievous spark she remembers, but something darker lurks beneath the surface. He claims the meeting is coincidence, but Amber notices how his gaze lingers on her face, cataloguing the changes that time has etched into her features. When he suggests drinks to catch up on old times, she should refuse. Instead, she hears herself saying yes. The wine flows too easily at their reunion, loosening tongues and lowering defenses. Edward speaks of his new life as a doctor, his girlfriend in London, his successful career that survived the destruction Amber's sister Claire orchestrated years ago. He doesn't mention the letters Claire wrote to his medical school, the anonymous complaints that nearly ended his career before it began, but Amber can see the knowledge burning in his eyes like a slow-moving poison. The evening shifts when Edward produces her phone, unlocking it with a password he shouldn't know. Photos scroll across the screen—intimate pictures of a woman who looks like Amber but acts with an abandon she doesn't remember. Her naked body twisted in positions of pleasure, her face wearing expressions of desire she's never seen in any mirror. Edward claims she begged for everything they did together, but Amber's memory holds only blank spaces where crucial hours should be. The truth crystallizes like ice in her veins. Edward drugged her, used her, photographed her violation as insurance against future resistance. He speaks of love while describing rape, his voice honey-sweet as he explains how she'll leave Paul and start fresh with him. When Amber tries to run, his hand cracks across her face with enough force to split her lip. She tastes blood and fear in equal measure as Edward's fingers tighten around her throat, cutting off air and hope with practiced efficiency.

Chapter 4: Two Peas in a Pod: The Twisted Childhood Secret

The diary pages flutter like wounded birds as Paul discovers them in their attic, each entry written in Claire's childish handwriting from 1992. Amber recognizes the familiar swirl of numbers on the cover, remembers how Claire always formed her letters with elaborate flourishes even as a child. These aren't Amber's memories preserved in ink—they're Claire's version of events, the story of two little girls who shared more than friendship. The entries reveal the truth Amber has spent decades trying to forget. Claire wasn't her sister then, just her best friend Taylor, an angry child bouncing between schools and houses as her parents' failures multiplied. They were born on the same day, just hours apart, in the same hospital. Claire used to say they were like two peas in a pod, identical souls trapped in similar bodies. Taylor's home was a monument to neglect—parents who drank too much, fought too often, and forgot they had a daughter who needed love instead of chaos. The house smelled of gas from unpaid bills and desperation from unpaid dreams. Amber's own family wasn't perfect, but they had heat and food and the kind of quiet stability that Taylor craved like oxygen. The final diary entries from Christmas Eve 1992 read like a confession written in crayon. Taylor describes her carefully planned escape from a life she couldn't endure anymore. She packed her school bag with books and dreams, turned on the gas taps in the kitchen, and lit a small fire in the front room before leading Amber outside to safety. They sat on a stone wall across the street, watching as Taylor's childhood home became her parents' funeral pyre. Amber remembers the explosion, the sirens, the way Taylor held her hand too tightly as flames danced behind broken windows. She remembers Taylor singing nursery rhymes with the wrong words, making everything sound like a lullaby for the damned. Most of all, she remembers the social worker who arranged for Amber's parents to adopt the orphaned girl, giving Taylor the family she'd always wanted and Amber a sister she'd never asked for.

Chapter 5: The Christmas Accident: A Sister's Betrayal

The pain starts as Claire drives them toward the hospital on Christmas night, a cramping agony that doubles Amber over in the passenger seat. Blood stains her dress, marking the death of dreams she'd barely dared to nurture. She was pregnant—a miracle after years of trying—but now that miracle is bleeding out onto Claire's leather seats. Claire's face remains impassive as she navigates the dark streets, her red gloves gripping the steering wheel like she's choking life from the car itself. She asks clinical questions about the bleeding, the timing, the father, as if she's conducting a medical examination rather than rushing her sister to emergency care. When Amber mentions Paul doesn't know about the baby, Claire's expression shifts to something predatory. The conversation turns to Paul's book deal, his plans to take Amber to America, his desire to build a life beyond Claire's reaching influence. Claire has spent thirty years as Amber's protector and controller, eliminating anyone who threatened their twisted bond. Friends disappeared after mysterious accidents or sudden relocations. Colleagues found themselves facing career-ending scandals. Lovers discovered they weren't as compatible as they'd hoped. But Paul represented something different—success, freedom, a future that didn't revolve around Claire's needs. When he read the childhood diaries and quoted that innocent phrase about two peas in a pod, he unknowingly signed his death warrant. Claire couldn't risk him learning the truth about the fire, about the murders that created their family. The car accelerates through empty streets as Claire explains her reasoning with chilling logic. Paul will have to be eliminated, just like the others who got too close to their secrets. The pregnancy complicated things—Claire couldn't kill a pregnant woman, even Amber—but nature has solved that problem with blood and pain. Now they can return to their familiar pattern of dependence and control. Amber sees the tree approaching through the windshield like destiny wrapped in bark and branches. Claire's foot hits the brake at the exact moment she whispers "I love you" with perfect sincerity. The car flips, glass explodes, and Amber flies through the air like a broken doll before smashing into the unforgiving tarmac. As consciousness fades, she hears Claire's footsteps walking away, leaving her sister to die alone on the cold road.

Chapter 6: Breaking Free: The Hospital Nightmare

Edward moves through the hospital corridors like he owns them, keys jingling from his belt with each calculated step. He's not a doctor anymore—those dreams died with the letters Claire wrote years ago—but his porter's uniform grants him access to every room, every vulnerable patient, every opportunity for revenge. Amber recognizes his voice before she sees his face, that familiar whistle echoing through her medicated nightmares. He visits her room when the real medical staff are elsewhere, checking her pupils with stolen equipment and adjusting her IV drip with practiced malice. The drugs he adds keep her trapped in twilight consciousness, aware but unable to respond, a living doll for his twisted games. He speaks to her like a lover while violating her paralyzed body, describing their college romance as if rape were foreplay. The camera Paul installed to monitor Amber's progress becomes witness to Edward's crimes, recording each assault with digital precision. Paul watches from home as the man he thought was a doctor systematically destroys what remains of his wife's dignity. The footage shows Edward's face clearly as he climbs on top of Amber's motionless form, his medical knowledge used to keep her conscious enough to feel every violation. When Edward realizes he's been recorded, his visits become more frequent and more dangerous. He increases the drug dosages, trying to push Amber past the point of no return before the police can connect him to her condition. The machines monitoring her vital signs scream warnings that go unheeded in the understaffed night shift. But Amber's mind refuses to surrender completely. In moments of clarity between drug-induced stupors, she begins moving her fingers, counting seconds, pointing at exit signs. Her body starts rejecting Edward's chemical restraints, fighting back with the stubborn determination that kept her alive on that frozen road. The red cord above her bed becomes a lifeline she can finally reach, summoning help before Edward can complete his final, fatal injection.

Chapter 7: Ashes and Rebirth: Claiming a New Life

The house burns like a beacon in the predawn darkness, orange flames licking at windows that once framed Amber's childhood. She stands across the street with Digby, their new puppy, watching Claire's home collapse into ash and memory. The accelerant she poured through the rooms ensures nothing will survive to tell tales, just like the fire that consumed Taylor's family thirty years ago. Claire lies paralyzed in her bed upstairs, conscious but unable to move as the hospital drugs Amber stole work through her system. She can hear her twins crying down the hall but cannot reach them, cannot protect them from the woman she thought was her loving sister. Amber held her hand one final time, squeezing three times like they did as children, before leaving Claire to face the flames she once used as a weapon. The diaries burn first in Amber's fireplace at home, each page curling into nothing as the twins watch from their high chairs. They don't cry as Claire's words disappear into smoke—they seem mesmerized by the dancing flames, as if fire holds some genetic fascination for them. Amber tears out the final page before feeding it to the flames, the one that reads "Taylor told me to do it" in Claire's childish handwriting. Paul sleeps peacefully upstairs, unaware that his wife has become something new in the darkness. The man who loved Amber Reynolds would not recognize the woman who orchestrated three deaths in a single night. Edward's screams from the sabotaged sunbed still echo in her memory, his flesh fusing with heated metal as electrical systems mysteriously short-circuited. Madeline's house key fit perfectly in the lock, just as her credit card records would perfectly match the gasoline purchases that preceded the fire. When the police arrive with news of the tragedy, Amber plays the grieving sister with award-worthy precision. The evidence points inevitably toward Madeline—the suicide note in her handwriting, the gasoline cans in her shed, the threatening letter she supposedly sent to Claire. A career destroyed by scandal, a woman with nothing left to lose, seeking revenge on the family she'd abandoned decades ago.

Summary

The tropical sun warms Amber's face as she watches her niece and nephew build sandcastles on pristine white sand. Paul works on his laptop nearby, unaware that the children playing in the surf are not orphaned by accident but carefully claimed by design. The twins call her Mummy now, their young minds accepting this new reality with the adaptability of innocence. They don't remember the night their mother died, don't question why Aunt Amber suddenly became their guardian and protector. The bracelet appears on their hotel room service tray like a message from beyond—thin gold held together by a rusty safety pin, Amber's birthdate engraved on metal that should have burned with its owner. Claire's final gift transcends death itself, a reminder that some bonds cannot be severed by fire or time. The woman who created herself from another's ashes now faces the possibility that her carefully constructed paradise might crumble like everything else she's ever built. But Amber has learned to adapt, to survive, to take what she needs from a world that never gave her enough. She pulls Paul close as the children laugh in the surf, their family complete at last through methods that would horrify anyone who knew the truth. Sometimes the only way to heal is to cauterize the wound, to burn away the infected parts until only healthy tissue remains. In the end, love and hate prove to be different faces of the same desperate hunger, and Amber Reynolds has finally learned to feed herself.

About Author

Loading

Alice Feeney

Feeney crafts gripping psychological thrillers that probe the complexities of truth and perception. Through her novels such as "Sometimes I Lie" and "Rock Paper Scissors," she delves into the intricacies of human relationships and the unreliable nature of memory, creating narratives that keep readers questioning what is real. Her method of intertwining suspense with character-driven stories ensures a captivating reading experience, engaging audiences who appreciate a blend of mystery and psychological depth.\n\nHer career as a BBC journalist for fifteen years informs her precise, immersive storytelling style. This background enables Feeney to construct intricate plots that maintain suspense and unpredictability. Her book "His & Hers," soon to be a Netflix adaptation, exemplifies her ability to translate complex narratives into compelling screenplays, broadening her impact on both literature and visual media. Readers benefit from Feeney's skill in maintaining tension, making her works suitable for those who relish psychological intrigue and dramatic twists.\n\nWith her seventh novel, "Beautiful Ugly," set for release in January 2025, Feeney continues to explore the darker facets of human nature and the duality of appearances. Her books, translated into over thirty-five languages, reflect universal themes of deception and identity, appealing to a global audience. This bio highlights Feeney's evolution from journalist to best-selling author, showcasing her dedication to crafting stories that resonate deeply with readers worldwide.

Read more