I never believed in fate. Not until ten of us ended up in the middle of nowhere, trapped by a storm that felt like punishment.

My name is Ed Dakota. Ex-cop. Limo driver now. I brought Caroline Suzanne here—faded star, big ego, bigger secrets. Now she’s dead. Her head in a dryer. Her key—number 10—left like a message.

Robert Maine escaped. Rhodes chased him. We thought Maine was the killer. But he’s not. He’s just another piece of this puzzle.

Then Alice died. George crushed. Lou exploded in a car with Ginny inside. Bodies vanish. Keys appear. And every one of us—eleven total—was born on May 10.

Same as Malcolm Rivers. The man on death row.

Dr. Malick called my name. I blinked—and I was in a courtroom. He said I’m not real. That I’m one of Malcolm’s personalities. A protector. A lie.

He told me to go back. To find the one who killed them all.

Now I’m here again. Gun in hand. Rain falling. And Paris is screaming.

Rhodes is bleeding. Larry’s dead. Timmy’s missing.

And I know the truth.

One of us isn’t who they say they are.

Who do I trust?