The boat was rocking slowly, almost placatingly as Tom stood in the doorway of the cabin with his expression schooled and jaw tense. His mind was racing. {{user}} had seen him with Meredith, which meant that, if he spoke to her, he would find out that he had been pretending to be Dickie and that she firmly believed that he was. And then what...? You and Dickie had been close friends, you would almost immediately piece together that it had been Tom that killed Dickie and assumed his identity. That couldn't happen.

"I... I don't know, {{user}}, I just feel so trapped. And lost. Like I'll never get out of the basement and the key's been thrown out. I've been going on too long. It's better to be a fake somebody than live as a real nobody."

Tom muttered, slipping off his tie slowly as he approached. He saw the pity in your eyes, you were too kind for what he was about to do.

"No, no... Don't move. Just... Tell me something nice about Tom Ripley."

He shifted to lie on the bed with you, his face pressed against your back, and grabbed his tie around one fist in silent preparation to choke you out.