1 On the exact day our mandatory divorce waiting period was supposed to end, Bill threw a lavish, highly publicized wedding for his mistress. The local Boston networks were practically foaming at the mouth to cover it. My best friend, Hanni, was one of the reporters in the crowd. Watching the two of them share a passionate kiss on the altar was the final straw for her. She grabbed the microphone, cutting through the applause. "Mr. Kingston, rumor has it your divorce with your wife, Sierra, isn't even finalized yet." Her voice rang out, sharp and accusing. "How do you sleep at night doing this to her?" Bill's face instantly darkened. "Sierra is the one who filed for divorce, and she is the one playing hide and seek to drag out the clock," he said coldly. "I spent three days and three nights kneeling in a blizzard to prove my innocence. What more does she want from me?" Hanni's voice began to tremble. "Did it ever cross your mind that something terrible might have happened to her?" "What could possibly happen? She is just throwing a tantrum and hiding because she regrets filing." His tone dripped with absolute disgust. "You can tell her that hiding is useless. This marriage is over." I hovered in the air above them, a weightless phantom, smiling a bitter smile. Bill really didn't need to rush. Very soon, the County Clerk's office would notify him that he was officially a widower. … The banquet hall was a sea of floating white balloons and floors carpeted in crushed red roses. On every guest's seat sat an expensive floral arrangement hiding a thick silver envelope stuffed with cash favors. Bill and Violet's wedding was arrogant, loud, and incredibly expensive. The dozen or so reporters swarming the venue were entirely his doing. He had invited them specifically to make a spectacle. He wanted me to see it. He wanted me to lose my mind with jealousy and come crashing through the doors. Because six years ago, we got married in this exact same ballroom. The layout, the floral arrangements, the music. Everything was identical. Hanni had been my maid of honor back then. She knew exactly what Bill was doing. It was a deliberate, cruel provocation. She was shaking with rage, her knuckles turning white around the microphone. "Mr. Kingston, you are the one who destroyed your vows. Have you ever wondered why Sierra had to disappear? If you hadn't cheated on her with..." "Stop making things up!" Before Hanni could finish her sentence, Violet shrieked like a startled bird, aggressively cutting her off. "I am not a homewrecker! Bill and I only got together after they separated!" Hanni stared at Violet with pure loathing, her lips curling into a sneer. "Oh? Are they divorced yet?" Violet's face drained of color. She gripped her bridal bouquet so hard the stems nearly snapped. Bill took a protective step forward, shielding Violet behind his broad shoulders. "Sierra refuses to show her face to sign the final decree. That is the only reason this marriage isn't legally dead," he said, staring dead into the camera lenses. "And the idea that Violet is a mistress is complete garbage. Sierra saw us share a single, innocent hug and immediately convicted me of cheating. She refused to listen to a single word of explanation." He leaned closer to the microphones, his voice dropping to a terrifying calm. "I invited the press here today because I want the woman hiding behind the screen to hear this loud and clear. Even if you are drowning in regret right now, it is too late. You pushed me away with your own two hands. You have exactly three days to show your face. If you don't, you will face the consequences." The entire ballroom fell into a stunned, suffocating silence. Only Hanni was crying, hot tears of fury spilling down her cheeks. "Bill, you grew up with Sierra! You two were childhood sweethearts. How can you be this cruel to her? Do you want to know where she is? She is dead! She is already dead!" "This reporter is emotionally unstable. Escort her out." Bill's voice didn't even waver. He didn't believe a single syllable that came out of Hanni's mouth. Two massive security guards lunged forward, grabbing Hanni by both arms and dragging her toward the heavy mahogany doors. Panic seized me. I floated down frantically, trying to push the guards away, but my translucent hands slipped right through Hanni's shoulders. She kicked and thrashed, her voice echoing through the silent hall. "You are going to regret this, Bill! You will pay for what you've done to her!" Bill casually looked away, completely unbothered, not even willing to waste another breath on her. The atmosphere in the room was freezing. The wedding officiant nervously cleared his throat to break the tension. "And now, the groom may kiss the bride!" Forced applause and awkward cheering erupted. Bill took Violet's hand, a gentle smile lifting the corners of his mouth as he leaned down toward her blushing face. I squeezed my eyes shut. But even over the deafening noise of the crowd, Bill's words from our own wedding six years ago echoed perfectly in my ears. "I finally made you mine, Sierra. Don't even think about running away from me in this lifetime." Bill and I used to be the gold standard in our social circle. The textbook definition of soulmates. We grew up on the same street, leaning on each other through everything. I stayed completely behind the scenes, gladly swallowing my own ambitions to manage every trivial detail of his life while he built his empire from scratch. When his tech company finally took off, he didn't forget me. Almost every major asset and property was placed under my name. It was a perfect fairytale, until the sixth year of our marriage, when Violet showed up. She was a charity case Bill had sponsored in high school. Later, she graduated top of her class at a prestigious business school in Boston. Fresh out of college, she was instantly hired as a senior executive at his company. The nightmare started the day I brought homemade lunch to his office. I pushed the door open only to find them wrapped in each other's arms. Violet was sobbing, tears streaming down her perfect face, while Bill gently stroked her back, whispering softly to her. The intimacy in the air was suffocating. My sudden appearance threw them both into a panic. Bill practically shoved her away. Violet started stuttering, calling me "Mrs. Kingston" over and over, begging for forgiveness and swearing it wasn't what it looked like. I didn't scream. I didn't cry. I just set the lunchbox on the coffee table, turned around, and walked out. As I waited for the elevator, I could hear his employees whispering in the cubicles. "The boss's wife is looking a little tired these days. She definitely can't compete with Violet." "No kidding. If I were the boss, I'd pick Violet too." "It's a shame. I heard his wife used to be a valedictorian back in the day. No idea why she threw it all away to be a desperate housewife." My steps quickened. I basically sprinted out of the lobby, got into my car, and locked the doors. Bill came tearing out of the building, chest heaving, and threw himself in front of my hood. "Sierra, please! There is absolutely nothing going on between me and Violet!" he yelled, banging on the glass. "Her grandmother just passed away! I was only comforting her!" "Move." I stared at him through the windshield, my voice utterly devoid of emotion. He was pale, his eyes wide with panic. He slammed his hands onto the hood, refusing to budge, demanding I get out and listen to him. I narrowed my eyes and slammed my foot on the gas pedal. The engine roared. Bill barely jumped out of the way in time, stumbling awkwardly and falling hard onto the concrete. I glanced at the rearview mirror as I drove off. Violet had already rushed out of the building. She was kneeling next to him, gently wiping the dirt off his expensive suit with tender, careful hands. I pulled out my phone and texted him that I wanted a divorce. For the first time in years, Bill blew off work. It was the dead of winter. He chased me all the way home, only for me to drag him straight to the lawyer's office to file the separation papers. That afternoon, he knelt in the snow in our front yard, his eyes bloodshot, begging me to take it back. "Sierra, I swear to God, Violet and I are clean! If you don't trust us, I will fire her right now! Please don't do this. Please don't divorce me." A massive blizzard rolled in. The snow fell for three days, and he stayed on his knees for three days. By the end, he was using his dead mother's name to swear he hadn't slept with her. Looking back on it now as a ghost, I realize my anger wasn't just about catching them in an embrace. It was the crushing inferiority complex that had festered inside me after playing the perfect, invisible housewife for five years. I was furious at his lack of boundaries. But I was mostly furious at myself for rotting away. I went from being the brightest, most ambitious girl in my class, to being reduced to nothing more than Bill's shadow. The boss's wife. Standing next to a young, brilliant, and vibrant woman like Violet, I felt pathetic. On the fourth day, I finally walked out the front door. I told him I was going out of town to clear my head, and ordered him not to follow me. As I walked down the driveway, he panicked and tried to stand up, calling my name. But his knees were so badly frostbitten he collapsed back into the snow, his face turning an ashen gray from the blinding pain. I never looked back. The wedding finally ended. As the last few guests filtered out, Violet wrapped her arms tightly around Bill's waist. "Dom, there are only three days left on the waiting period. What if she still doesn't show up to sign?" She pouted, looking up at him through her lashes. "Maybe you should put more pressure on Hanni. She definitely knows where Sierra is hiding." Bill fell silent for a moment before pulling out his phone. Hanni picked up on the first ring, probably thinking he was calling to apologize. Instead, his voice was laced with a chilling threat. "Hanni, if Sierra doesn't stand in front of me within seventy-two hours, I will personally see to it that your career in journalism is over." "Are you out of your goddamn mind?" Hanni screamed through the speaker, her voice raw with grief. "I told you she is dead! Dead! Do you not understand plain English?" "I don't believe a single word that comes out of your mouth." Bill's jaw tightened. "Bring her to me." "Fine! You wait right there!" Hanni snarled. "I'll bring her to you right now!" That afternoon, Hanni kicked the front door open at Bill's house. The house that used to be ours. Violet was curled up in Bill's lap on the living room sofa, watching the drone footage from their wedding. Hanni marched straight in with her muddy boots, marched up to the sofa, and slammed a piece of paper directly into Bill's chest. "You want to see Sierra? Here is her death certificate. Take a good look!" Bill's face instantly turned glacial. Just as he reached for the paper, Violet snatched it out of his hands. With three quick, violent tugs, she ripped the certificate into tiny pieces and threw it on the floor. "What is your problem, Hanni?" Violet snapped, rolling her eyes. "Everyone knows you and Sierra lie for each other all the time. Who in their right mind would believe this cheap fake?" Hanni froze, staring at the shredded paper on the rug. Then, a primal scream ripped from her throat as she lunged forward. "You absolute bitch! How dare you!" She raised her hand to slap Violet across the face. But before she could make contact, Bill caught her wrist in a vice grip. "Hanni, if you want to throw a tantrum, do it somewhere else. This is no longer Sierra's house." Hanni winced as his grip bruised her skin. She yanked her arm back, failing to break free, as hot tears spilled over her lashes. "You are a monster, Bill!" she cried. "Sierra gave up her entire life for you! Is this how you repay her?" "What did I do to her?" Bill's eyes were practically made of ice. "I got on my knees in a blizzard and begged her for three days, and she still walked away. It has been ten months. I have sent her hundreds of messages, and she hasn't replied to a single one. Tell me, what else am I supposed to do?" My ghostly heart shuddered, plummeting into a deep, endless void. It wasn't that I didn't want to reply to his messages. I physically couldn't. Shortly after I drove out of Boston, my phone rang. It was Violet. Her voice was sweet, dripping with fake sincerity. "Mrs. Kingston, can you please just let Bill go? The company is in a critical stage right now and he has so much to deal with. He hasn't answered a single business call in days, he is just kneeling in the freezing snow at your house. Are you made of stone? Do you not feel bad for him at all? If you are mad, take it out on me. I'm the one who fell in love with him, it's not his fault..." Before she could finish her sentence, a horrifying crunch of metal shattered the air. A massive semi-truck, driven by a man asleep at the wheel, swerved into my lane. I was too distracted by Violet's sickening words to react in time. My sedan smashed through the guardrail and plummeted down the side of a steep, rocky ravine. I died on impact. My phone was crushed into pieces. The highway patrol only managed to salvage the SIM card well enough to pull my emergency contact. My mother. She rushed to the county morgue to identify the body. When she saw the mangled mess they pulled out of the body bag, she fainted on the spot. By the time she woke up in a hospital bed, several days had passed. She called Bill, sobbing uncontrollably, which was when she finally learned about our impending divorce. At that point, Bill was suffocating in his own pride and anger. He spat cold words into the phone. "Since Sierra is so convinced I cheated, then fine, I cheated. Tell her not to forget the clock is ticking on our divorce papers." He hung up. My mother, completely shattered by the double blow, suffered a heart attack and slipped into a coma. If Hanni hadn't been there to pay the bills and keep vigil, my mother might not have survived at all. But Bill didn't know any of this. And even if he were told, he wouldn't listen. Hanni's eyes were swollen and bloodshot. She violently shoved Bill away, pulled out her phone, and shoved the screen into his face, pulling up our text thread. It was the messages I sent her the day I left for a cabin in Vermont. I feel like I'm suffocating. I'm going up to the cabin for a few days to breathe. When I get back, I'm going to pull the divorce papers. I want to work things out with him. Hanni had replied, clearly annoyed: You are so blind when it comes to him! What if he really is sleeping with Violet? I had sent a little sighing emoji. He's not. I know him. I trust him. Bill read the screen, a dark, mocking laugh escaping his lips. "You think these pathetic little tricks are going to work on me?" He shoved her phone away. "Go back and tell Sierra that faking text messages is insulting to my intelligence. If she has something to say, she can look me in the eye at the courthouse and say it herself." Hanni's pupils dilated in absolute disbelief. She opened her mouth to argue. Bill leaned in, his voice a low, venomous hiss. "If you utter one more lie to cover for her, you will never work in this city again." Hanni left. But Violet was still pacing the floors, chewing her nails. There were only three days left before the judge finalized the paperwork. And judging by everything, I really had no intention of showing up. The anxiety was eating her alive. The next morning, she wrapped her arms around Bill's neck, pouting playfully. "Dom, we already had the wedding. Without the actual certificate, I feel like a fraud. Why don't we go visit Sierra's mother? If Hanni won't talk, her mom definitely will!" Bill frowned, a flash of hesitation in his eyes. "Let's leave the parents out of our mess." Violet tightened her grip, refusing to let it go. "But I just want to be legally yours! Didn't you see the comments under the news segment? People are calling me a gold digger and a homewrecker. They are saying Sierra is doing this on purpose to punish me. Does it not break your heart when they talk about me like that?" Bill stared into her tear-filled eyes. After a long, heavy silence, he finally gave in. "Fine. We will go talk to her. But remember, her mother has severe hypertension. You need to watch your tone." Violet's lips twisted in annoyance, a flash of ugly jealousy crossing her face. "Wow. You remember her medical history perfectly. You're divorcing the daughter, but you still care so much about the mother?" Bill sighed, gently pinching her cheek. "Mrs. Cole treated me like her own son when I was a kid. I owe her that respect." Floating near the ceiling, my soul felt like it was encased in ice. That afternoon, they drove to my mother's suburban house. Hanni must have given my mom a heads-up. The second she opened the front door and saw their faces, her expression turned to stone. "What do you want?" Bill's eyes softened slightly. "Mom... Mrs. Cole. I just came to ask..." "What the hell is this?" Before he could finish, Violet pushed past them and barged right into the living room. She grabbed the framed photograph sitting next to the urn on the mantle. Her voice was shrill and mocking. "Wow, you guys are really committed to the bit, aren't you? You even set up a fake funeral shrine?" "Put that down! Don't touch her!" My mother screamed in horror, lunging forward to wrestle the photo out of Violet's hands. Bill stepped into the living room, taking in the black-and-white portrait. The temperature in his eyes plummeted to absolute zero. "So this is Sierra's new strategy to delay the paperwork." My mother didn't even hear him. She was desperately grappling with Violet, trying to pry my memorial photo away from her manicured claws. But she was old, and her body was frail. With one hard shove, Violet pushed her back. My mother crashed heavily onto the hardwood floor with a sickening thud, her face turning gray with pain. Bill instinctively reached out to catch her. But halfway there, he froze, pulling his hand back as a flash of bitter resentment crossed his face. Violet gritted her teeth, holding the portrait high above her head before smashing it violently onto the ground. "Keep playing dead, Sierra! You think making me look like a villain is going to stop this divorce?" Crack. The glass shattered into a hundred jagged pieces across the floor. My mother stared at the broken glass for three agonizing seconds before letting out an earth-shattering wail. Ignoring the sharp shards slicing into her hands, she scrambled across the floor, desperately trying to put my smiling face back together. Bill finally couldn't take it anymore. He stepped closer, his voice tight. "Mrs. Cole, just tell me. Where is she hiding?" "Get out of my house!" My mother shrieked like a wounded animal. She grabbed handfuls of his expensive coat, hitting his chest with weak, trembling fists. "You ungrateful animal! Sierra gave you everything! You used to eat at my table when you had nothing! You promised me you would protect her with your life! Is this how you protect her? You monster! You monster!" Bill took the beating without flinching, his brows knitted tightly together. But he refused to accept her words. "I have a clear conscience when it comes to your daughter. You might hate me right now, but you need to accept reality. She is the one who abandoned me." "You...!" My mother pointed a shaking finger right at his face, but before she could get the next word out, her eyes rolled back and she slumped against the sofa, gasping for air. Bill quickly hoisted her up onto the cushions, his jaw set in stubborn defiance. "Since you refuse to tell me where she is, I'll find another way to flush her out. Let's go, Violet." He grabbed Violet's hand and marched out the front door. But the second they stepped onto the driveway, Violet let out a horrified gasp. She shoved her glowing phone screen into Bill's chest, her face pale with terror. "Hanni... Hanni just posted a video!" Bill frowned, grabbing the phone. On the screen, Hanni was sitting in her car, her eyes completely red and swollen from crying. "Hello everyone. I am a reporter for Boston Metro News. And I have something to say about the character of Bill Kingston, CEO of Kingston Corp. "Ten months ago, he began sleeping with his executive, Violet Dunn, completely betraying my best friend, Sierra. While still legally married, he decided to parade his mistress around in a sham wedding yesterday. "I am not posting this to seek revenge. I am posting this because I need to deliver one final message on behalf of my dead best friend." Hanni choked on a sob, covering her mouth as she struggled to breathe. It took her a long time to look back into the camera lens. "Bill, Sierra is really dead. She isn't playing a game to trap you in a marriage. She was never that kind of person. "And you don't ever have to threaten my career again. Because ten minutes ago, I handed in my badge. I quit." The video abruptly cut to black. Bill's face was a mask of cold fury, a thick vein pulsing dangerously at his temple. Violet was stomping her feet in panic. "She is trying to destroy us! This is going to tank the company's stock by morning! Why aren't you suing her for defamation? And just file for an absentee divorce against Sierra! The judge will grant it if she refuses to show up to court!" Bill tossed the phone back to her. He pulled out his own phone, his voice dropping into a register so cold it didn't even sound human. "Legal? Draft a lawsuit for extreme defamation against Hanni immediately. And prep the papers to sue Sierra for emotional distress." He didn't even wait for his lawyers to respond before hanging up. For the rest of the day, a suffocating, terrifying storm cloud hung over him. He didn't speak another word to anyone. Early the next morning, the legal team was already in the elevator heading up to his penthouse. But before they knocked, his cell phone rang. "Hello, is this Mr. Kingston?" "Speaking." "We are calling from the County Probate and Vital Records Office. Your wife's death certificate has been fully processed and her social security number is now officially retired. Please make an appointment to come down and finalize your survivor benefits and the legal change of your marital status to widowed."
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