Our wedding night. The acrid smell of smoke choked me as roaring flames consumed the beautiful new home I'd bought for Chloe. A heavy vase smashed against my skull. Through the blinding pain, I heard her voice, sharp and cold: "You and Mom and Dad ruined my love. I've given everything to Ryan. You destroyed my life. Now you can die with me." The searing heat enveloped me, then, nothing. I gasped, sitting bolt upright in my own bed, not the master suite, entirely free of smoke or the ominous red decorations. My heart hammered against my ribs; disbelief warred with the dizzying joy of being alive. But then my eyes landed on the digital clock: 11:03 PM. June 12th. This was *the* night. The night Chloe was drugged, the horrifying prelude to my murder. A chilling whisper snaked down my spine as Chloe's strained voice drifted from next door: "Ethan... I don't feel good..." The phantom pain of shattered ceramic returned, a stark reminder of her betrayal. My first instinct screamed for me to flee, to escape her, to get out while I still could. But a cold, sharp thought pierced through my fear: Chloe was reborn too, and she was still entangled with Ryan. This time, I wouldn't just run. I would expose their schemes, break free from her toxic grip, and ensure my family's actual tragedy never happened.
Our wedding night. The acrid smell of smoke choked me as roaring flames consumed the beautiful new home I'd bought for Chloe. A heavy vase smashed against my skull. Through the blinding pain, I heard her voice, sharp and cold: "You and Mom and Dad ruined my love. I've given everything to Ryan. You destroyed my life. Now you can die with me." The searing heat enveloped me, then, nothing.
I gasped, sitting bolt upright in my own bed, not the master suite, entirely free of smoke or the ominous red decorations. My heart hammered against my ribs; disbelief warred with the dizzying joy of being alive. But then my eyes landed on the digital clock: 11:03 PM. June 12th. This was *the* night. The night Chloe was drugged, the horrifying prelude to my murder.
A chilling whisper snaked down my spine as Chloe's strained voice drifted from next door: "Ethan... I don't feel good..." The phantom pain of shattered ceramic returned, a stark reminder of her betrayal. My first instinct screamed for me to flee, to escape her, to get out while I still could. But a cold, sharp thought pierced through my fear: Chloe was reborn too, and she was still entangled with Ryan. This time, I wouldn't just run. I would expose their schemes, break free from her toxic grip, and ensure my family's actual tragedy never happened.
Other books by Gavin
More