Chapter 1

The second year after I died, the financial headlines exploded: [Dakota Herman, CEO of the Herman Group, comes back to the country with Freya Madden, the girl he can never forget, and they are about to tie the knot.]

After his plane touched down, Dakota didn't bother with any wedding plans. Instead, he drove straight to the cramped little apartment where I used to live, staring up at the worn-out hallway with a storm of emotions in his eyes.

"Freya, wait in the car. It's cold out there. You'll catch a chill." His voice was gentle, filled with a tenderness I'd never heard from him before.

Freya clung to his sleeve, her face as pale as paper, her voice trembling with hope. "Dakota, my blood disease won't get better.

"The doctors said only a matching stem cell transplant can save me. Do you think Kelsey would really help me? She would, right?"

I hovered next to him, feeling nothing but irony.

I'd been dead for two whole years. My ashes had been scattered into the river and sea by my brother, Shane Robinson. Yet even now, he was still thinking about using my stem cells after I was gone to save his precious Freya.

In silence, Dakota went upstairs and pushed open the door, thick with dust. Digging through the deepest part of the drawer, he pulled out a pile of old medical records and a signed donor consent.

Instantly, his face drained of all color, his whole body trembling as he screamed my name like a madman.

As for me, I watched in silence, not feeling a thing anymore.

*****

Forty-three days after I died, Dakota's assistant, Jaxson Orozco, called my mom. "Mr. Herman wants to know if the donation paperwork for Ms. Kelsey Robinson is finished yet. Ms. Madden can't afford to wait much longer."

My mom was sobbing so hard that she couldn't even get a word out.

I hovered next to her, watching as her hair turned gray overnight. I wanted to strangle Jaxson, if only I could touch anything.

I died.

I died of acute leukemia. From diagnosis to death, it was four months and seven days.

The day I died, Dakota was in Peyham with Freya, watching a fashion show. Rumor had it, Freya fell in love with a couture dress worth two hundred thousand dollars, and Dakota didn't even blink before swiping his card.

My mom kept calling, but he never picked up.

My dad was begging the nurses to try and save me one last time.

Shane rushed back from the army, crying the whole day.

And I stood there, watching it all happen, unable to do a thing.

I was twenty-six when I died. Four years with Dakota, and I was never really his girlfriend, never had a wedding, not even a single photo of us ever made it onto his feed.

I was his secret, a shadow never meant to step into the light.

But Freya, the girl he could never forget, was the treasure he wanted to show off to the world.

The year after I died, the financial headlines exploded: [Dakota, CEO of the Herman Group, comes back to the country with Freya Madden, the girl he can never forget, and they are about to tie the knot.]

The day the news broke, I was sitting on the windowsill of my old apartment, swinging my legs. Not that it mattered where I sat now. I was a ghost, anyway.

Someone honked their horn downstairs.

I glanced down and saw a black Maybach parked on the street. The door swung open, and a man got out.

His suit hugged his frame perfectly, with broad shoulders and long legs, and a jawline so sharp that it looked like it had been carved.

It was Dakota.

It had been two years since I last saw him, and he looked thinner now. The hollows under his eyes were deeper, and the shadows from his brow made him look three years older than he really was.

He stood on the street below, gazing up at the shabby apartment building with a look so complicated that it was as if he were staring at a tombstone.

"Dakota." Then, a woman stepped out of the car.

Freya was dressed in an off-white cashmere coat, with a scarf that looked like it cost a fortune. She looked like a white rose raised in a greenhouse.

When she was clinging to Dakota's sleeve, her face was so pale and delicate that she looked like she'd topple over if the wind blew too hard.

"Freya, wait in the car. It's cold out there. You'll catch a chill." His voice was gentle, almost tender.

It was a warmth I'd never felt from him.

I floated above, watching the whole scene play out, and suddenly, the irony of it all hit me.

When I was alive, I'd stand out in the freezing winter, lips turning purple from the cold, waiting for him. But he never looked at me, just said, "Head home, I've got stuff to deal with."

So, I went back and waited all night, but he never showed.

Now, Freya barely stepped out of the car, and he was instantly worried she'd get cold.

Freya didn't go back to the car. She stayed outside, looking up at the building, her voice small and full of hope and uncertainty. "Dakota, my blood disease won't get better.

"The doctors said only a matching stem cell transplant can save me. Do you think Kelsey would really help me? She would, right?"

I was stunned. And a bitter laugh escaped me.

As I laughed, tears welled up in my eyes.

I'd been dead for two whole years.

Even my ashes were entrusted to Shane, who scattered them into the river and the ocean.

Yet even now, he was still hoping to use my stem cells, even after my death, to save the girl he treasures most.

Dakota paused for a few seconds and then put his arm around Freya's shoulders. "Come on, let's go up and ask her."