Chapter 1
My husband's childhood sweetheart died—and he blamed me for everything.
I had a miscarriage scare and he rushed me to the hospital, leaving her behind. That triggered her depression, and eventually, she killed herself.
On the day I gave birth, he drugged me and my parents unconscious, then doused the house in gasoline.
When I woke up, I cried and begged for mercy, but he just flicked his lighter.
"You killed Rose. Now your whole family dies with her!"
I died in those flames, screaming in agony.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day I almost lost my baby.
*****
Sharp pain in my lower abdomen jolted me awake.
I looked around at the familiar room, at my small baby bump. That was when it hit me—I was alive again.
Back on the day I nearly miscarried from overwork.
Before things spiraled out of control, I frantically searched for my phone to call an ambulance.
But I couldn't find it anywhere. Even the office phone was dead.
My heart sank as I barely managed to stumble out of the office, hoping someone would help.
"Can someone drive me to the hospital? Or call an ambulance..." I pleaded.
My face was ghostly pale from the pain, sweat soaking me as I struggled to stay upright.
My coworkers glanced at me coldly and went back to work, completely ignoring me.
Having lived through this before, I knew that without help soon, I might not make it.
Using my last bit of strength, I staggered into my husband's friend's office.
"Jack, you can't let Henry's baby die. Please drive me to the hospital."
Instead of helping, Jack Sawyer shoved me out. "Enough, Anna. Drop the act. Henry told me everything!"
He looked at me with pure disgust. "You're already married to Henry—why are you still playing games? I'm not letting you bother him today!"
Jack never liked me.
Ever since I married Henry Lane, he had seen me as the other woman between him and Rose Anderson.
He'd never hidden his contempt.
"I wouldn't help you even if Henry hadn't said anything!" Jack slammed the door in my face.
His words made it clear—Henry had turned everyone against me.
Desperate, I turned to my coworkers. "I'll pay you—just help me downstairs so I can catch a cab..."
But they acted like I didn't exist, ignoring my pain.
Some even snickered, whispering to each other.
"I heard she's faking the pregnancy. She could've fooled me."
"Not the first time. Word is, she faked being pregnant to trap Mr. Lane into marriage."
Every word cut deep, almost as painful as my cramping stomach.
I never imagined Henry would paint me this way.
Jaw clenched, I made a desperate grab for someone's phone.
But I was too weak to overpower anyone.
One of my coworkers registered my intention and shoved me hard to the floor. His glare was pure contempt. "I'm not risking my job with Mr. Lane for you. Besides, someone like you doesn't deserve help!"
The pain intensified, and tears streamed down my face—I was helpless.
Did coming back change nothing? Was I still trapped in this nightmare?
Last time, on this day, my life was hanging by a thread.
I was dying while Henry took Rose to her therapy appointment.
I begged him over and over until he finally chose me over Rose and took me to the hospital.
But Rose felt abandoned, like Henry had stopped caring.
She couldn't take it anymore and killed herself that day at home.
Henry didn't find out until it was too late.
She'd spiraled into depression after being harassed by a client at a business dinner—she felt completely humiliated.
That client was Brian Carter, the big shot Henry had been desperate to land.
Even after Rose died, Brian still did business with Henry.
Henry convinced himself that the deal was only made possible by Rose's sacrifice.
At Rose's funeral, Henry sat by her grave, drank a dozen beers, and cried all night.