Chapter 2

Two

The funeral descended into chaos.

Paramedics rushed in. Guests scrambled for the exits. Someone fainted in the third row.

But I stood perfectly still in the center of it all, watching Dominic's mask crack in real time.

"Brielle — honey — oh my God, you're alive!" He lunged toward me, arms outstretched, tears already forming. The performance was Oscar-worthy.

I let him hug me.

His body was trembling. Not from relief — from fear.

"I thought I lost you," he whispered into my hair, loud enough for the crowd to hear. "I've been devastated. I haven't slept in days—"

"You slept fine last night," I murmured back, quiet enough that only he could hear. "In our bed. With my sister."

He went rigid.

I pulled away, keeping my expression soft, my eyes glistening with fake tears. "I'm just so grateful to be alive. Dominic, I don't know what happened to me. One moment I was in the hospital, and then — darkness."

The paramedics reached us. They checked my vitals, shone lights in my eyes, and looked at each other in bewilderment.

"Ma'am, your heart rate is normal. Blood pressure is stable. This is... medically, we can't explain this."

"A miracle," Vivienne said from behind Dominic, her voice high-pitched and shaky. She stepped forward, arms open. "Brielle, oh my God, my sister—"

I watched her approach. This woman who had poured poison into my soup with a smile. Who had whispered to my dying body, "Just let go, Bri. It'll be over soon."

I hugged her.

"Viv," I breathed, squeezing tight. "I had the worst nightmare while I was... gone. I dreamed you and Dominic were trying to steal everything from me."

I felt her stiffen in my arms.

I laughed softly. "Isn't that crazy? The things a dying brain comes up with."

Vivienne pulled back, her smile frozen. "That's — that's insane. You know I would never—"

"I know," I said warmly. "That's why it was just a nightmare."

But I held her gaze for one second too long, and I saw it — the flicker of panic behind her eyes.

Good. Let it eat at her.

At the hospital, doctors ran every test imaginable. They couldn't find a single thing wrong with me.

"Mrs. Ashford, we're at a loss," the lead physician said. "Clinically, you were dead for over thirty hours. There's no medical precedent for this."

"Maybe I'm just stubborn," I said with a smile.

Dominic sat beside my bed, holding my hand, playing the devoted husband. But every few minutes, his phone buzzed, and I caught him glancing at it.

I already knew who was texting him.

When he excused himself to use the restroom, I counted to ten, then got out of bed and followed.

Through the crack in the bathroom door, I heard his whisper.

"Viv, calm down. She doesn't know anything. She was dead — there's no way she knows."

A pause.

"I don't care what she said. It was a nightmare. People who come back from near-death experiences say all kinds of things."

Another pause. His voice dropped lower.

"We just need to be more careful this time. The will has already been filed. She's legally been declared dead. Her assets are in transition. We just need to—"

I stepped back silently, returning to my bed before he emerged.

When Dominic came back, I gave him my sweetest smile. "Who was that?"

"Just work," he said, kissing my forehead.

"Oh, one thing," I added casually, pulling the blanket up. "While I was being checked in, the hospital told me something interesting. Apparently, when a person is declared legally dead, there's a forty-eight-hour window to contest the death certificate before asset transfers become permanent."

Dominic's hand froze on the blanket.

I looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes. "Isn't that fascinating? I had no idea the law worked that way."

The vein in his neck pulsed visibly.

I yawned. "Anyway, I'm exhausted. Dying really takes it out of you."

I closed my eyes, and the room went silent.

But I could feel his stare boring into me, heavy with a new kind of calculation.

The clock was ticking — for both of us.