All I've got is an empty house, a voice in my head, and a bottle of antipsychotic meds. Where do I go from here? My name is Audrey Lake, and I used to be a homicide detective. Until my last undercover assignment ended in hailstorm of bullets and a storm of violence. Now, I'm just trying to cope in this quiet riverside town where no one knows me, and I like it that way. But I keep hallucinating, seeing visions of a woman attacked and forcibly drowned. I'm sure it's all part of my illness, a symptom of post-traumatic stress. But then the local cops find her body in the river, and rule it as a tragic accident. Except I don't think it is. Now I'm working alone, digging into the dead woman's past, and tearing the protective covering from my own. As I get closer to the truth, I have to ask: is a brutal killer still on the loose, am I losing my mind, or is there another explanation?