In this twisted psychological thriller from the New York Times bestselling co-author of the Reese’s Book Club pick The Last Mrs. Parrish, a woman is tormented by nightmarish visions of her future—and then they start to come true.
Intrigued? Well read on to discover the synopsis and an excerpt from Liv Constantine’s Don’t Open Your Eyes, which is out June 17th 2025.
Annabelle Reynolds has everything she’s ever wanted. A devoted husband, two wonderful daughters, and a career she loves. She couldn’t be happier. So why is she suddenly plagued by disturbing dreams of a future where she hates her husband and her daughters’ lives are at risk? At first, she chalks the dreams up to an overactive imagination. But when details from her dreams, details she couldn’t possibly have predicted, begin to materialize, she realizes these aren’t just dreams but rather premonitions of a terrifying future. They all point to a singular choice, an unknown moment that holds Annabelle’s life in the balance.
Then Annabelle has a dream that her daughter Scarlett is in immediate danger. Someone wants Scarlett dead, and Annabelle has no idea who or why. Suddenly, every choice she makes is fraught with peril, with no inkling of which move could bring this terrifying vision to life. As Annabelle’s present life starts to collide with the future in her dreams, she wrestles with how much control she really has over her destiny and whether she can change what is meant to be.
1
Annabelle
“You’re a monster!” I scream, my chest heaving as my heart pounds wildly. His eyes bulge, his face flushes red, and he looks like he wants to kill me. I back away as he closes the space between us. I’m wedged between his body and the kitchen counter. I hate him right now with every fiber of my being. I shove at him with all my strength, but he doesn’t budge. I watch, helpless, as his hands reach up and circle my neck. He begins to squeeze. I can’t get a breath. I claw at his arms to no avail. My vision blurs. Blindly, I reach my arm behind, my fingers fumbling until they close around the handle of a butcher knife. With every ounce of strength I have left I pull it from the block. I swing my arm around and aim the knife at his chest. He releases his grip and drops his arms, backing away. I cough and rub my sore neck. He nonchalantly walks toward the door to the garage, his hand lingering on the handle a moment, then opens it. “Oh, I forgot to tell you, I just got news I won best doc. It’ll be in next month’s Connecticut Magazine. Thanks for voting.” He winks and walks out the door.
Annabelle Reynolds’s eyes flew open, and she sprang to a sitting position. Her face was wet with perspiration, and a feeling of utter terror flooded her senses. She drew a deep breath, and her eyes darted to the figure sleeping next to her. She slipped from underneath the covers and grabbed her robe from the bench at the end of the bed, covering her naked body. Shaking her head, she went into the bathroom and turned on the shower, glancing at herself in the mirror. She splashed cold water on her face. You’re being silly. It was just a dream. Yet the image of the two of them fighting, her husband’s face red and contorted with rage, had seemed so real. It was especially jarring because they hardly ever argued.
Today was their wedding anniversary. Two children, one dog, two guinea pigs, and too many goldfish to count later, and she was happy. As happy as she could be, despite everything that had happened before—when she had still believed in happy endings. After she’d married James, she’d promised herself that she’d put it all behind her. Over the years, Annabelle had tried to forget about the loss—to appreciate all she had gained. And even though there would always be a part of her that missed him, a part of her that couldn’t let him go, she had to keep reminding herself that there was no point in missing something that was never meant to be. So, she did her best to think of him less often, every year trying harder to force herself to forget, to be happy. But maybe being happy was asking too much. Enough, she thought. Shake it off.
She brushed her teeth, mentally reviewing everything on today’s agenda. After she dropped the girls at school, she had to swing by the drugstore to pick up an anniversary card for James. Then she had a full day at work. As she stepped into the shower, she spoke her daily gratitude affirmations aloud. “I’m thankful for my husband, my children, our good health, our beautiful home. I’m thankful for a job I love, and good friends.” She felt a little foolish doing this, but her last client, a successful author of self-help books, had told her how beneficial a gratitude practice was, not only to mental health, but physical as well. Annabelle tried to be open-minded, so she’d committed to trying it for sixty days to see if it made any difference. She was on day ten now.
“Mind if I join you?” James’s voice cut through her thoughts as he entered the bathroom.
“Please do.”
He opened the door to the large shower and stepped inside.
“Happy anniversary,” he said as he wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled her neck.
“Happy anniversary.” Annabelle turned and kissed him, trying to dismiss the earlier feelings of terror from her dream. “Why don’t we do this more often?”
A banging on the door made her pull back.
“Mooom, Parker’s throwing up! I think he ate another sock.”
She adored their golden retriever, but at times like this, not so much. Annabelle looked at James and rolled her eyes. “And that’s why . . .”
“I’ll go. Finish your shower.” He stepped out. “Olivia, I’ll be right there,” he called through the door.
Half an hour later, Annabelle was dressed and downstairs. She walked into the kitchen, the smell of bacon filling the air. It was her favorite room of the house, featuring a built-in fireplace with a cozy sitting area, a custom-made farm table, and double French doors opening to their deck overlooking their swimming pool. Her mother had always said that the kitchen was the heart of the home, and some of Annabelle’s best memories were of the two of them sitting and talking in their tiny kitchen around their worn wooden table. How she wished her mother was here now. She felt a pang of regret that her mother would never see her settled and content in such a beautiful place. Annabelle had never imagined that one day she’d be living in a gorgeous house, walking distance to the beach, and close to downtown Bayport, one of Connecticut’s most charming towns. Parker ran up to her and nudged her with his nose as if sensing her sudden melancholy. She reached out to pet his head. “I hear you ate another sock, buddy.”
“He’s fine now. Someone must have left their socks out.” James gave Olivia a meaningful look.
“Wasn’t me!” their eleven-year-old protested.
“Well, I’m glad he’s okay,” Annabelle said, hoping to ward off a lecture from James.
He had made a full breakfast for Olivia and Scarlett: omelets, turkey bacon, toast, and an array of fruit. Annabelle gazed at her girls. Scarlett was a carbon copy of Annabelle—light brown hair and green eyes. James often commented that they were both the typical wholesome and natural, girl-next-door types. Annabelle thought it was cute when people commented on how alike they looked, but lately Scarlett seemed annoyed by it. Olivia was all James: blond and blue-eyed, with his bow-shaped mouth. But her sunny personality came from Annabelle.
James handed Annabelle a portable mug. “I made your coffee with oat milk and no sweetener. Consuming all those artificial sugars is bad for you.”
“Yes, Doc,” she said, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. She’d add some sweetener after he left. A couple of Splendas were not going to kill her, but it was pointless to argue with him. “I’m looking forward to our anniversary dinner tonight.” They had reservations at her favorite restaurant in New York City, a little more than an hour’s drive from their house.
“Me too. Mom’s coming over at six to stay with the girls.”
Scarlett made a face. “We don’t need a babysitter. I’m fifteen. Gram doesn’t need to come over.”
“It’s nice for there to be an adult around with us being an hour away,” James said.
Scarlett rolled her eyes. “Come on, Dad. It’s not like you’re leaving the country. You’ll just be in the city.”
Annabelle and James looked at each other. “Well,” she began, “she does have a point. What do you think?”
James scratched his beard and shifted his gaze to Scarlett. “I don’t know. You and your sister tend to fight. Not sure you’re the best person to be in charge.”
“Give me a chance. Aren’t you the one so big on us learning responsibility?” Scarlett asked.
Annabelle suppressed a grin and said nothing, waiting to see his response.
He moved his head back and forth as he considered it. “Okay, we’ll give it a try.” He glanced at his watch, then gave Annabelle a peck on the lips. “You’d better hit the road if you don’t want to be late.” He looked over at the girls. “Take your plates to the sink and grab your backpacks.”
“I got it. You should get going, or you’re going to be late,” Annabelle said.
“Right. Have a good day, everyone.”
A few minutes after he left, Annabelle cleared the table while the girls gathered their things. They filed out and got into Annabelle’s Volvo XC90. Once they were on the road, she gave Scarlett a quick look.
“Make sure you’re not on your phone all night. I don’t want you to ignore your sister.”
“I won’t. We’ll watch a movie or something.”
“And no one coming over,” Annabelle said.
“Okay, Mom. Got it. Geez.”
“I’ll tell you if she does anything wrong,” Olivia piped up from the back seat.
“I’m not going to do anything wrong. Ugh!”
“And you call me right away if there’s a problem,” Annabelle said.
“There won’t be a problem! What did you get Dad for your anniversary?”
“Remember the photo of the four of us on the beach last summer at the Cape?”
“Yeah, you made us all dress alike like a bunch of dweebs,” Scarlett said.
Annabelle laughed. “It’s a great photo of everyone! I had it done in oil paints for Dad.”
Scarlett didn’t seem impressed. “Hmm. That sounds nice, I guess. Um, so, I was wondering—”
“What?”
“Did you have any other serious boyfriends before Dad?”
Annabelle’s hand tightened on the wheel as an image formed in her mind. For the second time that day, the old pain returned. All these years later, she still felt like a part of her was missing. “Why do you ask?” Annabelle made her voice light, buying time.
“Just wondering, you know, if there was anyone really special before Dad. Like, did you know right away that Dad was the one?”
“Do you mean, was it love at first sight?”
“I guess.”
Annabelle was careful to measure her response. “I don’t believe in love at first sight. Your dad and I were friends first, and I fell in love with him gradually. But it’s better, I think, because he’s not only my husband, he’s my best friend.” What she didn’t tell her daughter was that once upon a time, she had very much believed in love at first sight. Back when she was young and naive and hadn’t had her heart broken. She’d experienced that all-consuming, head-over-heels, mad love that poets and philosophers wrote about, and it had nearly destroyed her. Maybe her knees didn’t buckle when James kissed her, but that kind of feeling didn’t last anyway. What they had was better, more real. The kind of love that would sustain her, not obliterate her.
Scarlett made a face. “Doesn’t sound very romantic. Who were you dating before him?”
Annabelle decided to sidestep the question. “Listen, the romantic love you see in the movies isn’t real. Real love is—” She glanced over to see if Scarlett was listening and saw that she had put her AirPods in and tuned her out. She sighed. The teenage years were certainly living up to the stereotype. Annabelle was close to both girls, making sure to do special things one-on-one with each of them. Olivia and Annabelle went to the bookstore together every week, ordered hot chocolates, and chose a new book to read together. Scarlett and Annabelle’s thing was scary movies. They’d make a large bowl of popcorn, turn the lights way down, and snuggle under a blanket. But lately, Scarlett wasn’t even interested in doing that. Annabelle supposed it was normal—this pulling away—but it didn’t make it any easier. Thank goodness Olivia was still her same sweet self.
Annabelle pulled into the parking lot of their school.
“Bye, Mommy,” Olivia said as she jumped out of the car. Scarlett got out without a word.
“Have a good day,” she called after them, but they ran ahead without looking back.
“You too, Mom,” she said to herself, shaking her head.
James held up his glass of wine. “Here’s to us, and to many more years together.”
He looks so handsome tonight, Annabelle thought. He seemed to get better looking each year. When they first met, she thought he was a bit geeky. Back then he wore thick black frames, and his hair was too short for her taste. But now, with a touch of gray at his temples, contacts, and a more fashionable haircut, he reminded her a bit of Jude Law. Annabelle touched her glass to his and drank. “I love it here,” she said, looking around. “All the stress of the day melts away as soon as I walk in the door.”
He smiled at her. “You look gorgeous. I love that dress on you. How do you manage to get sexier every year?”
Annabelle had on her silver Irina halter dress—a little shorter than she liked, but if there was anywhere to wear it, it was New York. And she wanted to make tonight a special night. She’d even had her hair blown out so that it was extra shiny and straight for the evening. Annabelle wasn’t into labels, but her mother-in-law had given her a gift card to a boutique where the least expensive item was nine hundred dollars. So she’d splurged and bought it for a New Year’s party last year. “Thank you. Maybe later we can try to make up for what we missed in the shower this morning.”
“That’s a deal,” James said. “We should come here more often. We don’t get into the city enough anymore.”
“Then it wouldn’t be as special.” The first time they’d come to Per Se was after they’d had Scarlett. Annabelle had been sleep-deprived and exhausted, and James had surprised her with a weekend away. Her in-laws had come to stay with the baby, and he had booked them a suite at the Waldorf. The first night they’d ordered room service; she fell asleep soon after and slept for fourteen hours. When she woke up around noon, he’d booked her a facial and a massage and had made dinner plans at Per Se. His thoughtfulness was one of his most endearing qualities.
James reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, wrapped in forest-green paper with a gold ribbon. “For you.”
“I thought we were going to wait until we got home to exchange our presents.”
“I couldn’t wait. Go on. Open it.”
Annabelle tore the paper and pulled out a small velvet box. When she flipped the top to reveal what was inside, she gasped. “Oh my gosh, James. This means so much.” Tears sprang to her eyes. “How did you do this?”
“I got the name of a jewelry restorer and had it fixed.”
She gently lifted the diamond and sapphire ring and held it in the palm of her hand. It had belonged to her mother, and to her grandmother before her. But it had been damaged when her mother had fallen on a sidewalk years ago, when she was in the end stage of Alzheimer’s. The gold had been badly scratched, and some of the stones had fallen out. Her mother’s aides had been so concerned with getting her to the hospital that no one thought to look for the stones, and they were never recovered. But now it looked like nothing had ever happened to it. She slipped the ring on her finger and held her hand out, admiring it. It felt like she had a part of her mother back.
“How is it that you always know the perfect thing to do?”
“I’m glad it makes you happy.”
She reached out and took his hand. “You make me happy. Thank you so much for this.” She blew out a breath. “I can’t believe it’s been nine years since Mom’s been gone. But at least when I think of her now, it’s when she was well. It’s almost like those awful years never happened.”
“I wish I had known her before she got sick. But I’m glad I was able to see glimpses of the real her. And she loved you, Annabelle. That much was obvious, even at the end.”
Annabelle smiled. “She loved you too. From the moment she met you, she thought we were a couple, back when we were just friends. It’s like she knew right away that we were meant to be together.” She took a sip of her wine, a feeling of contentment washing over her. “This is so nice. As much as I love our family time, it’s great to have time with just us, especially with your crazy work schedule.”
“Couldn’t agree more. Speaking of work. I forgot to tell you. Good news. I won best doc again this year. It’ll be in next month’s Connecticut Magazine.”
Annabelle gasped.
James gave her an amused look. “Well, you don’t have to look so shocked.”
She forced a laugh. “I’m just happy for you. Congrats! Why didn’t you mention that you were in the running?
“Didn’t want to jinx it.”
She raised the glass to her lips with a shaking hand and took a long sip, her dream coming back to her full force.
Excerpted from DON’T OPEN YOUR EYES by Liv Constantine. Copyright © 2025 by Lynne Constantine. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
