Not all anniversaries are happy.

Three years ago today, my husband was murdered. He died on the same date I lost my high-school best friend in a car crash.

I’ve rebuilt my life since then. I have a steady job as a make-up artist and friends who love me. I’m happy – mostly.

But today is still the anniversary of the two worst days of my life.

So by the time I get home from work, all I want to do is curl up on my couch and distract myself with snacks and cheesy movies.

I open my handbag and find something that shouldn’t be there. Something that sends a shiver down my spine.

A small gift box, my name written unevenly across the lid.

Inside is a message:

Happy anniversary.
Someone is trying to sabotage your life.
And they won’t stop until you’re destroyed.

And it’s written in a code my best friend invented before she died . . .