Two months later, when I finally opened my eyes and saw the face staring back at me in the mirror, a face that wasn't mine, I knew I had survived.
I was alive again.
Even if it meant living as a stand-in for Arthur Stephens' late wife.
It was enough.
Enough to uncover the truth about what had happened all those years ago.
Enough to get my revenge.
Arthur smiled and ruffled my hair.
"When I first found you, you looked like a stray cat dragged through a storm."
"Hard to believe it's already been seven years."
"Well, now that you're back in Seaview City, do whatever you need to do. Don't hold back."
He raised his glass to me, calm and unhurried, every inch the gentleman.
"I'll have your back."
I nodded again and raised my glass in return.
"Some debts can never be repaid."
My gaze drifted to the photograph of Lucille Harding hanging on the wall, and the warmth bled from my eyes.
Maybe they were right.
Lucille Harding should have died seven years ago.
What crawled out of that wreckage was something else entirely. A vengeful ghost, risen from hell with one purpose.
A few days after returning, I hosted a gala under the name Mrs. Stephens, inviting every person of influence in Seaview City.