Plot Summary
Prologue
A dying person sinks through frigid dark water, lungs screaming. The realization cuts deeper than the cold: the bitch1 fooled me. Limbs thrash uselessly. Eyes search the murk for anything solid. There is only the pull downward and the bitter knowledge of betrayal.
Thoughts turn to Dean,2 the warmth of his arms, a final wish for comfort as the world fades to black. This is a death that was never seen coming, a body soon to be found among forgotten city trash.
The prologue functions as both flash-forward and thesis statement. The drowning perspective, later understood as Jesika's final moments, establishes the book's central dynamic: a victim realizing too late that charm masked predation. The water imagery recurs throughout the novel (Chicago River, Lake Michigan, Lake Tahoe) as a symbol of Shae's engulfing, suffocating influence on everyone she draws close. The line about 'the bitch' fooling her captures the tragic irony: Jesika, who thought she was befriending a kind stranger named Maya, was actually inviting her husband's vengeful wife into her life. The prologue also seeds the motif of bodies discarded like trash, reflecting Shae's dehumanization of anyone who obstructs her desires.
The Divorce Papers
Shae Halston1 returns to her El Segundo condo to find Dean2 in his office, divorce papers already prepared. He calls their marriage finished, dismisses her rage with clinical calm, and threatens to expose her influencer persona Mia Starr as fraudulent if she fights back. When she throws a glass award at his head, he slaps her hard across the face.
Later, drunk and scrolling Instagram, she finds Jesika Layman's3 profile. The model she hired to be Mia's face is pregnant and engaged, and the man's2 arm wrapped around her in the photo wears Dean's2 distinctive platinum real estate ring. In a wine-soaked haze, Shae1 types a caption that will change everything: My husband is dead, forgetting to add the words to me.
This turning point establishes the twin engines of Shae's descent: rejection and replacement. Dean's clinical cruelty (divorce papers pre-drafted, the threat to destroy Mia) reveals he has emotionally exited long before physically leaving. His infidelity is compounded by its poetic cruelty: he chose the literal face of Shae's creation, effectively replacing her twice. Shae's traumatic childhood and mental health history mean abandonment does not simply wound her, it unmakes her grip on reality. The typo that follows is the story's fulcrum: a genuine mistake that Shae, discovering its lucrative consequences, will choose to exploit rather than correct, crossing the line from victim to perpetrator.
Grief Becomes Currency
Shae1 wakes to a phone exploding with notifications. Her wine-fueled post has gone viral. Followers flood her with condolences, prayers, and RIP messages. One has even set up a GoFundMe for funeral expenses that already holds over five thousand dollars.
Her Patreon subscriber count has ballooned to eight hundred, promising eight thousand dollars a month. Staring at the live donation ticker climbing higher, Shae1 makes a calculation. Dean2 emptied their accounts and left her with nothing. She deserves this money.
She researches rare throat cancers to fabricate a plausible cause of death, then posts a carefully curated widow's1 tribute: a photo of herself in a dramatic black Oscar de la Renta gown at a cemetery, veil cascading down her back, caption full of gratitude and grief.
The accidental post and its monetization mark Shae's transformation from reactive to strategic. The speed of her pivot is chilling: within hours, she has constructed a cancer narrative, staged cemetery photos, and rationalized the fraud as compensation for Dean's abandonment. This sequence illustrates how social media rewards performance of tragedy regardless of authenticity. The followers' eagerness to donate to a stranger's grief speaks to a collective hunger for meaningful connection, which Shae instinctively exploits. Her internal justification ('I deserve this') reveals a mind that has already begun to blur entitlement with ethics, setting the stage for larger transgressions.
The Model Replacement
Scrolling through Jesika's3 older Instagram posts, Shae1 finds the pattern: the same locations Dean2 used to take her, the same restaurants, eventually a clear photo of his distinctive ring on a man's hand around Jesika's3 shoulders.
The timeline is damning: Dean2 picked Jesika's3 headshot from the modeling agency over a year ago, insisting she looked like Shae.1 While Shae1 thought they were building Mia Starr together, Dean2 was using the hiring process to select his next partner. He handled all the paperwork, all the contact with the agency.
Now Jesika3 posts engagement and pregnancy announcements. Shae's1 rage is so consuming that while dog-sitting the neighbor's corgi Charlie, she accidentally overdoses the animal with liquid Benadryl she mixed into raw hamburger.
The revelation that Dean's betrayal was premeditated and executed through the very brand Shae built transforms her pain into something more volatile: a sense of having been an unwitting architect of her own replacement. The timeline matters psychologically: it was not a spontaneous affair but a calculated exit strategy. This reframes Shae's subsequent actions not as reactions to a sudden abandonment but as responses to a long con. The Charlie overdose, while accidental, is the first time Shae's emotional dysregulation causes physical harm to another living thing. Her response, photographing the near-dead dog to post as her own deceased pet for sympathy, demonstrates an already-operational pattern of converting tragedy into content.
The Chicago Pursuit
Jesika's3 Instagram announces a move to Chicago. Shae1 books a flight immediately and checks into the Foundry Hotel, spending fourteen thousand dollars on a penthouse suite using the GoFundMe money. From her window, she triangulates their apartment building across the street. On her first night, she spots Jesika's3 platinum hair through a window, then watches Dean2 wrap his arms around her.
She is transfixed with binoculars as they begin making love against the floor-to-ceiling glass. When Shae1 slaps her hand against the cold window in fury, Jesika's3 eyes seem to look directly at her. Shae1 drops her phone and backs away, panicked at being seen, but the obsession has already locked into place.
The hotel across the street becomes a physical manifestation of Shae's psychological position: close enough to watch, powerless to participate. Her use of donated funds for this stalking expedition reveals how completely she has merged the Mia Starr grift with her personal vendetta. The voyeuristic scene through the window is erotic and excruciating in equal measure. Shae is aroused by what she sees, repulsed by it, and ultimately defined by her exclusion from it. The moment of possible eye contact between the two women across the divide is the story's first true confrontation, even if neither fully registers its significance at the time.
Becoming Maya
Shae1 follows Jesika3 on her morning walk to a coffee shop called the Roastery. When Jesika3 realizes she forgot her wallet, Shae1 steps in to pay, introducing herself as Maya.1 Over oat milk lattes, Jesika3 proves disarmingly open, sharing that her fiancé's2 'crazy ex'1 cannot let go, that she is new to the city and desperate for friends.
She invites Shae1 to a speakeasy that evening. Though Jesika3 later cancels due to morning sickness, the bridge is built. Shae1 begins meeting Jesika3 regularly at the coffee shop, learning her routines, her yoga studio, her vulnerabilities. Jesika3 gives her the key codes to the apartment building, treating Shae1 like a trusted confidante.
The coffee shop encounter is the book's most psychologically intricate sequence. Shae discovers that Jesika, far from the predatory home-wrecker she imagined, is lonely, guileless, and genuinely warm. This complicates Shae's revenge narrative: hating someone who is kind requires more cognitive dissonance than hating a villain. Her choice of alias, Maya, sits phonetically between Mia and Shae, a subconscious confession of her fractured identity. Jesika's immediate trust, her eagerness to share key codes and personal history with a stranger, reveals a naivete that will prove fatal. The friendship that develops is simultaneously real (Shae enjoys being needed) and entirely counterfeit (every kindness is reconnaissance).
The Vigilante Lover
At the speakeasy Brando's, Shae1 meets Bishop,5 a tattooed man with diamond studs and a criminal ease. They drink vodka spritzers, and by night's end, she brings him to her penthouse. The sex is rough and thrilling, unlike anything with Dean.2 In the morning, Shae1 fabricates a story: her ex-husband2 beat her regularly, left her destitute, and is now living with a pregnant woman3 he will likely abuse.
Bishop's5 protective instincts ignite. He offers to kill the man.2 Shae1 demurs strategically, planting just enough detail: Dean's2 schedule, the garage key code, his location across the street. Bishop5 promises to make the bastard2 pay. Then he steals her canary diamond ring.
Bishop represents Shae's first attempt to outsource violence, to find a proxy who will do what she cannot yet bring herself to do. Their sexual dynamic (dominance, pain, reward) mirrors the power exchange she is constructing in her revenge plot. The abuse fabrication is a masterful manipulation, weaponizing Bishop's genuine disgust at domestic violence against a man who, whatever his faults, never beat his wife. The stolen ring is both a practical loss and a symbolic one: the last physical token of her marriage to Dean, taken by a man she thought she was using. Bishop's eventual rogue behavior (the blackmail attempt) teaches Shae that proxies are unreliable, pushing her toward direct action.
Sabotage in the Apartment
Jesika3 invites Shae1 for a sleepover while Dean2 is out of town. Shae1 arrives with a bottle of faux rosé, watching Dean's2 Audi pull away just in time. Inside the luxury apartment, she catalogs everything: the boxes still unpacked, the dirty dishes, the photo of them on the refrigerator.
While Jesika3 naps, Shae1 explores the primary bedroom, finds Dean's2 medicine cabinet stocked with erectile dysfunction pills, cholesterol medication, and antidepressants. She flushes the little blue pills triumphantly. She sticks chewed gum under the copper bathroom sink. On a later night, she lets herself in with the key code and hides in the walk-in closet, watching through a crack as Dean2 and Jesika3 make love, hearing him later find the gum.
The apartment invasion represents Shae's escalating need for proximity and control. Each act of petty sabotage (the gum, the flushed pills) is a signature, a way of marking territory she has lost. The closet voyeurism is the story's most intimate violation: Shae inserts herself into the most private moment of their relationship, a ghost haunting the space between them. That Dean finds the gum but attributes it to a negligent housekeeper shows how successfully Shae has embedded herself. The sequence also establishes her pattern of entering spaces she should not occupy, gathering information she will weaponize, and leaving traces of her presence that go unrecognized until it is too late.
The Garage Beating
At five-thirty in the morning, Shae1 and Bishop5 wait near Dean's2 building. Bishop5 has promised to go easy. When the garage door rises and Dean2 backs out his Audi, Bishop5 moves fast. Shae1 hears the thud of fists before she sees anything, then the wet sound of impact and Dean's2 gurgled protests that Bishop5 has the wrong man.
Bishop5 demands the stolen money, then slips away into the dark. Shae1 watches Dean2 curl into a fetal position on the concrete, blood pooling, moaning. She wants to go to him, tend to his wounds, make him see that it is she who loves him. Instead, Bishop5 pulls her away. Dean2 ends up hospitalized with a broken nose, concussion, and punctured lung. Police open an investigation.
This is the moment Shae's fantasy of revenge collides with visceral reality. The sound of fist meeting flesh is not abstract; it is her husband's body being broken. Her impulse to run to him rather than away reveals the core contradiction of her psychology: she wants to destroy Dean and be the one who saves him. The hospital bracelet photo Jesika posts becomes evidence in an investigation that now threatens to connect back to Shae. Bishop's rogue blackmail note demanding fifty thousand dollars further destabilizes her control, teaching her that recruited violence breeds unpredictable consequences. The beating marks the point of no return: a crime has been committed that cannot be undone.
The Green River
Shae1 texts Jesika3 to meet at the Chicago Riverwalk, where the water has been dyed bright green for St. Patrick's Day. She implies she saw Dean2 with another woman, hoping to fracture their relationship. Jesika3 defends him fiercely. The conversation curdles. Shae,1 consumed by rage, grabs Jesika's3 side ponytail and yanks her backward over the stone wall.
Jesika3 breaks free and runs, but her heeled boots betray her. She trips on a heaved brick at the top of stone steps, hits her head, and crumples at the edge of the river, blood smearing the pavement. When Shae1 nudges her shoulder to check if she is breathing, Jesika's3 body tumbles into the churning green water. Shae1 jumps in with a life preserver but cannot save her.
The Riverwalk scene transforms psychological warfare into physical tragedy. The St. Patrick's Day green dye turns the Chicago River into something surreal and toxic, an apt setting for a death caused by simmering resentments finally boiling over. Shae's attack is impulsive but not accidental: she grabs Jesika's ponytail, the same feature she has fixated on since first seeing her through the hotel window. The ambiguity of the death (did Shae push her? did Jesika fall?) mirrors the ambiguity Shae will later exploit in court. Her jump into the river to save Jesika is not redemption but performance, an act she can later cite as proof of her innocence. Jesika and her unborn baby die, and Shae runs.
Scarf and Gasoline
After fleeing the river, Shae1 walks in a daze back toward the Foundry. She passes Dean's2 building and sees him in the garage, bent over his Audi's center console, crushing painkillers from his hospital stay. He is slurring her name, barely conscious. Shae1 spots a red gas can and charcoal lighter fluid against the wall.
She soaks the end of her scarf in gasoline, steps up behind him, and wraps it around his mouth. He struggles weakly, his drug-addled body no match for her rage. Within moments he goes limp. She drops the scarf, punches the garage door button to close it, and leaves him unconscious in the running car, engine filling the space with exhaust. Adios, Dean.2 Fuck you very much.
The garage suffocation is Shae's most deliberate act of violence yet. Unlike the Riverwalk, which was chaotic and impulsive, this is methodical: the gasoline from a can she found, the scarf as weapon, the engine left running to finish what she started. Her internal monologue during the act is almost euphoric, reveling in the role reversal (she was always strong enough, she just never knew it). The line about Dean's pills being the death of him echoes her earlier fabrication about throat cancer, collapsing the distinction between the lie she told followers and the reality she is now creating. By closing the garage door and walking away, she leaves his survival to chance, a final abdication of responsibility that will define her legal defense.
Arrest in the Mountains
Shae1 flies to Lake Tahoe, hoping to disappear into the mountain town. But Dean,2 who survived the suffocation on a ventilator, has frozen all their shared accounts. Her cards decline at the Ritz. She sleeps at a women's shelter, lying about an abusive husband. Her therapist Kelly Fraser4 flies out to visit, books a hotel room with two beds, and offers support Shae1 grows increasingly suspicious of.
On the morning of Kelly's4 departure, as Shae1 holds a latte in the hotel lobby, the first flash of red lights reflects in the glass doors. Federal agents announce she is under arrest for the assault and attempted murder of Dean Halston2 and Jesika Layman.3 Shae1 screams that her name is Mia Starr, not the woman they want.
The Tahoe sequence reveals how completely Shae's resources have collapsed. The GoFundMe money is inaccessible, her credit frozen, her safety net gone. The women's shelter stay is both humiliating and instructive: Shae learns how to perform victimhood for institutional audiences, a skill she will refine during trial. Kelly's arrival, which reads initially as genuine concern, becomes retrospectively suspect once Shae learns that Kelly was cooperating with investigators. The arrest itself is almost an anti-climax, a foreordained conclusion to weeks of escalating criminality. Shae's scream that she is Mia Starr, not Shae Halston, is the first public declaration of the identity fragmentation that will become her legal strategy.
The Kiln Escape
At Pacific View Psychiatric Hospital, Shae1 has spent months faking pregnancy and insanity, gaining weight deliberately, hiding pills in the gap behind her cot. She studies the hospital's rhythms and weaknesses. During a nurses' strike, Kelly4 visits to say goodbye: she is moving away, handing Shae's1 case to a new therapist. They walk the grounds to an old kiln.
Shae1 attacks with a pottery knife, slicing Kelly's4 cheek and tongue so she cannot speak. She forces hot coals into Kelly's4 hands and face, obliterating fingerprints and features, then swaps their clothes. She leaves a fake suicide note in the hospital gown now worn by Kelly.4 Using Kelly's4 ID badge, Shae1 drives through the security gate, heading toward Chicago and Dean.2
The kiln scene is the book's most brutal sequence, and it completes Shae's arc from victim to predator. The violence is intimate, sustained, and horrifyingly practical: each injury serves a specific purpose in the identity swap. Her use of fire to destroy Kelly's identifying features echoes the gasoline from Dean's garage, linking her two surviving victims through elemental destruction. The suicide note in Kelly's pocket is Shae's final authorship: she writes Kelly out of existence and herself into freedom. That the nurses' strike enables her escape adds institutional critique to personal horror. Shae's final drive toward Chicago, convinced Dean will welcome her back, confirms that her delusions have survived every consequence, intact and undiminished.
Epilogue
Kelly Fraser4 lies in a hospital bed, paralyzed and mute, skin grafted over her burned face and hands. The nurses believe she is Shae Halston,1 the patient who attempted suicide by fire at the kiln.
They discuss her case above her unmoving body: the convulsions, the failed skin grafts, the antipsychotic medications. Kelly4 tries desperately to form words, to tell them they have the wrong woman, but her tongue is destroyed. She realizes Shae1 asked so many questions about her family not from friendship but from reconnaissance.
No one is looking for her. Her sister is hiking Tibet. There is no one to notice Kelly Fraser4 has vanished. She came into the world alone and will die alone in this bed, trapped inside the identity of the woman who destroyed her.1
The epilogue inverts the book's central premise: the influencer who faked her life has now forcibly swapped lives with someone else. Kelly's locked-in syndrome is the ultimate horror of being seen but not recognized, of having a true self rendered invisible by someone else's narrative. The medical staff's casual misidentification mirrors how easily Shae's Instagram followers accepted her curated widow persona. Both systems (social media and healthcare) rely on surface-level information and are easily gamed by those who understand how to manipulate appearances. The specific detail about Kelly's sister being unreachable in Tibet closes the loop on Shae's information-gathering throughout their sessions. Kelly's professional compassion, her decision to cross boundaries and become a friend rather than remain a clinician, becomes the vulnerability Shae exploits.
Analysis
The Influencer operates at the intersection of true crime sensationalism and psychological character study, using the architecture of social media to examine how identity, when performed for an audience, eventually consumes the performer. Shae Halston1 is not a reliable narrator in any traditional sense: she lies to her followers, her therapist,4 her lovers, and ultimately herself. Her tragedy is that she has spent so long curating a life for strangers that she cannot locate an authentic self beneath the filters. The novel poses an uncomfortable question: if someone performs grief convincingly enough to monetize it, does the performance eventually become real? The donations Shae1 receives are not exactly stolen; her followers receive emotional catharsis in exchange for their money, a transaction as real as any other in the attention economy. What makes the book more than a simple villain origin story is its refusal to let readers comfortably judge Shae.1 She is a victim of Dean's2 cruelty, a woman discarded callously by a serial cheater who selected her replacement using her own business infrastructure. Her mental illness, disclosed late in the narrative through Kelly's4 revelations about dissociative identity disorder, complicates questions of culpability. The novel suggests that Shae1 was broken long before Dean2 left, by a childhood trauma (her sister's death) that she buried so deeply she cannot access it. The influencer brand was an attempt to construct a self when the original self had already shattered. The ending is deliberately unsatisfying: Shae1 escapes, driving toward Chicago to reunite with a man who wants her imprisoned, while Kelly4 lies mute in a hospital bed, erased by the very compassion that brought her to Tahoe. This inversion (the therapist institutionalized, the patient free) is the novel's darkest commentary on a system that can be manipulated by those who understand its procedures better than its principles. Justice, the book suggests, is no match for someone who has made a career of making people believe in fictions.
Review Summary
The Influencer receives mixed reviews, averaging 3.58/5. Fans praise its addictive pacing, unreliable narrator, and shocking twists, calling it a wild psychological thriller that explores social media obsession and mental unraveling. Critics, however, find the second half confusing and disorganized, with overly gory moments and an unsatisfying ending. Many appreciate the fast-paced audiobook experience, while others feel the characters are unlikeable and the plot implausible. The series has divided readers, with some eager for the sequel and others swearing off the series entirely.
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Characters
Shae Halston
Influencer turned vengeful predatorShae Halston is a Los Angeles influencer who built the glamorous Mia Starr brand using a model's3 face to hide her own identity. Abandoned by her husband Dean2 for that same model3, she spirals from grief into calculated revenge. A lifelong therapy patient with dissociative tendencies, she weaponizes charm, manufactures tragedy for profit, and cycles between victimhood and aggression with unnerving fluidity. Her defining wound is being replaceable: her family discarded her, her husband2 replaced her with a younger version, and the online persona she built now belongs to someone else. Beneath her manipulative exterior is a woman who genuinely cannot distinguish between the life she has and the life she performs, making her both pitiable and terrifying in equal measure.
Dean Halston
Husband who leaves for the modelDean is a real estate agent whose charm once made him a top seller but whose business has been declining for years. He met Shae1 while still married to his first wife, establishing a pattern of overlapping relationships. When he hires model Jesika Layman3 to be the face of Shae's1 influencer brand, he begins an affair that ends his marriage. He is neither cartoonishly evil nor sympathetic: he genuinely loved Shae1 once but was exhausted by her emotional volatility and obsession with her online persona. His decision to pick Jesika3 from the headshots (noting she looked like Shae1) reveals a man who recycles relationship patterns rather than growing. He survives two murder attempts and is left disabled.
Jesika Layman
The model face of Mia StarrJesika is a working model hired to be the literal face of Shae's1 Mia Starr brand. Unaware of Shae's1 identity, she begins a relationship with Dean2 that results in pregnancy and engagement. She is warm, trusting, and somewhat naive, giving a stranger1 she met at a coffee shop the key codes to her apartment. Her openness makes her both likable and fatally vulnerable. She never learns the truth about who her new friend Maya1 really is. Her death at the Chicago Riverwalk, along with her unborn child, is the tragedy at the center of the novel's violence.
Kelly Fraser
Therapist who becomes the final victimKelly has been Shae's1 therapist for nearly twenty years, since Shae1 was a suicidal teenager. She is compassionate to a fault, crossing professional boundaries by visiting Shae1 in Tahoe and paying for hotel rooms. Lonely, with only a distant sister for family, she sees Shae1 as something like a daughter. Her decision to become personally involved rather than maintaining clinical distance makes her vulnerable to exploitation. Shae1 weaponizes everything Kelly shared about her life, her sister, and her Arkansas upbringing to execute the identity theft that destroys Kelly's life while giving Shae1 her freedom.
Bishop
One-night stand turned accompliceBishop is a streetwise hustler Shae1 meets at a Chicago speakeasy. Tattooed, charismatic, and casually dominant, he becomes her lover and unwitting weapon against Dean2. Shae1 manipulates him with false abuse allegations, and he attacks Dean2 in the parking garage. He later goes rogue, attempting to blackmail Dean2 for fifty thousand dollars and stealing Shae's1 diamond ring. He flips on Shae1 to prosecutors, becoming a key witness. His role in the story demonstrates Shae's1 pattern of using people as tools and the unreliability of recruited violence.
Plot Devices
Mia Starr Instagram Brand
Identity mask and grift engineShae's1 influencer persona, built using Jesika's3 face and lifestyle photos, represents both her escape from her real identity and the source of her income. When Dean2 leaves, the brand becomes her financial lifeline and the vehicle for her fraud. The accidental widowing of Mia Starr generates thousands in donations, teaching Shae1 that tragedy monetizes better than aspiration. The brand's success depends on never revealing the face behind it, creating the very secrecy that allows Dean's2 affair to go undetected for so long. After the trial, '#TeamMia' trends online, with supporters arguing Shae1 is a victim of patriarchal systems, demonstrating how successfully she blurred the line between performance and reality.
The Canary Diamond Ring
Token of marriage and theftDean's2 two-carat canary diamond anniversary gift to Shae1 features prominently in her early Instagram posts, a symbol of the luxurious life she projects. Bishop5 steals the ring from her hotel room in Chicago, and it later surfaces as evidence when he is arrested. The ring is eventually pawned to fund Shae's1 legal defense team, making it both the emblem of her marriage and the instrument that purchases her insanity plea. Its journey from gift to evidence to legal currency traces Shae's1 arc from influencer wife to criminal defendant.
The Key Codes
Access weapon for stalking and sabotageJesika3 freely gives Shae1 the key codes to her apartment building's garage and main entrance, the same four-digit code for both. This casual trust allows Shae1 to enter the building whenever she wants: delivering coffee, staying for sleepovers, and eventually sneaking in at night to hide in the walk-in closet. The key codes represent Jesika's3 fatal openness and Shae's1 exploitation of hospitality. After Bishop's5 attack, a security camera is installed in the garage, and that footage of Shae1 coming and going becomes critical trial evidence.
The Gasoline-Soaked Scarf
Murder weapon for Dean's suffocationAfter the Riverwalk, Shae1 finds a red gas can and charcoal lighter fluid in Dean's2 garage. She soaks her scarf in gasoline and wraps it around Dean's2 mouth while he is drugged on painkillers, suffocating him in his Audi. She later discards the scarf in a Millennium Park trash can. The scarf is both murder weapon and personal artifact (Shae1 is rarely without one), linking her identity to the crime. The security footage of her leaving the garage with the scarf wrapped around her hand becomes damning evidence at trial.
The Hospital Kiln
Instrument of identity destructionAn old kiln on the grounds of Pacific View Psychiatric Hospital, originally used to fire coal and now repurposed for patient art therapy. Shae1 uses it during a nurses' strike to burn Kelly's4 hands (destroying fingerprints) and face (destroying visual identification). The hot coals she forces into Kelly's4 mouth cauterize her tongue, rendering her mute. By leaving a suicide note in Kelly's4 pocket with 'Mia' signed at the bottom, Shae1 ensures that the burned woman will be identified as herself, not as the therapist4 she attacked. The kiln transforms Shae's1 escape from fantasy into reality.
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