Chapter One
"Move away, the patient is in a serious condition!"
The buzz of the emergency room is pierced by the urgent voice of the nurse. Rachel is brought in, pale and sweating, with her hands curled around her distended abdomen. Her vision has blurred, and she can only catch glimpses of the fluorescent lights overhead; each one reminds her that she is slipping into chaos and that she is completely alone.
"Who's with her? Is her husband here?" A doctor shouts over his shoulder, his eyes scanning the room without slowing his pace.
"She was found on the street—no one's with her," a nurse responds, adjusting Rachel's IV line, her hands gentle but brisk.
Rachel's heart tightens with the familiar ache of loneliness rising in her chest. How did it come to this? The question reverberates, as if mocking her, reminding her of the reality she has fought so hard to ignore. Alone. It has been like that for so long that loneliness is a thorn deeply embedded in her insides: sharp and always there, impossible to pull free. She convulses with pain, pulling her back to the present.
She tries to draw in air, but each breath is ragged and cuts her throat as the memories pour in, violent and unwelcome. Married to Lucas... but never loved. A person who never saw her as a partner but rather a possession, something to be used, discarded, and auctioned off at the first opportunity once it suited him. That thought churns her stomach. The betrayal stings her even more than the physical pain as her mind spins between past and present.
Another contraction hits her, this one sharper than the last, and it brings her back to her surroundings. People shout, voices overlap, fade in and out like a dream. Then, all of a sudden-a loud, shrill cry pierces the air, slicing through her fog. It's her baby. Her baby. For such a brief, fleeting moment, warmth spreads through her chest, overwhelming the pain. She reaches out with trembling fingers as her heart aches to hold the little life she's brought into the world. But before she can reach, everything fades to black.
---
Her eyes flick open, and she hears the hushed voices of people talking. She blinks, trying to focus her vision. The sterile walls of a hospital room come to life, the faint hum of machines breaking the peace. And then she sees him- Lucas-standing at the foot of her bed, his face in a grin that gives its own creepy feel.
"Congratulations, Rachel," he sneers, leaning down until his face hovers inches from hers, his voice low and dripping with malice. "You finally delivered your bastard."
The words weigh heavy, landing each one like a thud, the next syllable even more venomous than the former. Just as she begins to recover from the sting of the insult, a sharp jerk on her head pulls her backwards, causing a stinging pain in her scalp. Alice's nails dig into her skin, forcing her to meet her rival's gaze.
There's a cruel glint in Alice's eyes, a twisted pleasure that makes Rachel's stomach turn.
"Oh, honey," Alice's voice is a mockery of sweetness, a tone she uses to savor Rachel's helplessness. "Lucas never loved you. You were just another investment—a way for him to make money. That's his business, didn't you know?" She leans closer, her breath hot against Rachel's cheek. "He finds naive girls like you, uses them, then sells them off when he's done. It's good business."
The words dig into Rachel like shards of glass, each one cutting deeper than the last. Anger flares within her, mingling with despair, but when she tries to lift her hands, a searing pain cuts through her abdomen. The stitches from her delivery, raw and fresh, are a brutal reminder of her frailty.
Alice lets out a cruel laugh, clearly enjoying her helplessness. She reaches into her coat pocket, pulling out a syringe, the needle gleaming in the dim light. "Don't worry, dear," she murmurs, a sick smile stretching across her lips. "No one will notice this little prick." She presses the needle beneath Rachel's nail, a white-hot pain racing up her hand, but Rachel's voice catches in her throat, the scream trapped, silent.
Lucas grips her wrist, his fingers cold and unfeeling as warmth drains from her body, a creeping numbness wrapping around her limbs like a shroud. He leans in close, his fingers brushing her cheek with a sickening tenderness.
"Goodbye, dear dead wife," he whispers, each word laced with satisfaction. "Don't worry about my son—I'll take good care of him." His voice drops to a hiss, dark and chilling. "And you? Enjoy the slow, painful death." His fingers linger a moment longer, relishing her helplessness, before he straightens and leaves with Alice, their laughter echoing down the hallway.
A sickening dread settles over her, spreading like poison. She can't scream, can't move, every ounce of life slipping through her grasp. She tries to hold onto the world, but her vision blurs, the light above her dimming as the darkness swallows her whole.
---
Silence. Darkness. Cold.
Rachel opens her eyes, her body aching. She's cramped, confined, every breath labored, the space around her pressing in. She tries to shift, but her arms are locked to her sides, unyielding.
A casket.
The realization hits her like a blow, her mind racing as she struggles for air, the lid pressing down, her breaths shallow and desperate. Her heart pounds in her chest, each beat weaker than the last. The memories flood in: Lucas's betrayal, Alice's cruelty, her baby's fragile, precious cry. Her own despair wraps around her like a shroud, a final act of cruelty in a life already broken.
"How much more can life throw at me?" she screams within herself, her silent pleas echoing in the cold, unyielding darkness. "I'm alive, but I've been declared dead. God, if I had a second chance…" She grits her teeth, every word a vow in her mind. "I swear—I'd burn the whole world for this."
Her lungs burn, the air suffocating as her vision blurs again, fading into black. A strange calm settles over her in those final seconds, a faint, impossible wish lingering as she drifts into nothingness.
---
A sudden, harsh light slices through the darkness, blinding her. Rachel gasps, a surge of air filling her lungs as she jerks upright, her hands reaching out instinctively. But the cold, hard wood is gone. Beneath her is plush, soft carpet, the coolness of it grounding her.
She blinks, eyes adjusting to the brightness around her. She's in a lavish apartment, the walls lined with delicate art pieces, a chandelier glinting above. Expensive furniture, silk curtains, and crystal vases—everything looks impossibly luxurious, like a world she'd only seen in magazines.
Rachel's hands fly to her face, her fingers trembling, feeling the smooth skin, the unfamiliar contours. She stumbles forward, catching sight of a mirror on the far wall. Heart pounding, she steps closer, hands gripping the edge of the frame as she stares into the reflection.
A strikingly beautiful woman stares back at her—a woman she recognizes from countless magazines, a name that's graced society pages.
"Raven Craslow," she whispers, the words slipping out in disbelief. Her heart races, her thoughts spinning. Somehow, impossibly, she's been given a second chance. Her desperate wish… answered.