Chapter 1 - The Ghost in the Mirror
The restroom tile felt freezing against my palms, but my skin burned as if I’d been scalded.
I stared at my reflection in the polished gold-rimmed mirror, trying to force my lungs to expand. Every breath tasted like ash. Three months. Ninety days of waking up in an empty, freezing bed, clutching the side of the mattress where his weight used to leave an indentation. Ninety days of crying into his old flannel shirts until the scent of cedar and sandalwood faded into nothingness. Ninety days of wearing black, of fielding hushed, pitying phone calls, of holding Colleen’s trembling hand over a polished mahogany box that apparently contained a stranger—or worse, contained nothing at all.
He’s alive.
The words echoed in my skull with the force of a physical blow.
My assistant, Chloe, was still on the line, her voice leaking through the speaker of my phone resting on the marble sink counter. "Meredith? Please talk to me. What is going on? Do you need me to drive over there? You sound completely panicked."
"Chloe," I managed, my voice raspy, broken, trembling with a fury so hot it felt cold. "Listen to me very carefully. Do you remember when I told you about the closed-casket funeral? About how the police and the state troopers told us the body was burned beyond recognition? About how Colleen begged us not to open it because 'it would destroy our memories of him'?"
There was a pause on the other end of the line, followed by the rustle of papers in our studio. "Yes... of course I do. You were inconsolable for weeks. Why are you bringing this up now? Meredith, where are you?"
"I’m at the Harbor View Country Club. The venue for the wedding I’m covering today." I gripped the edges of the sink until my knuckles turned white. "And Chloe? The groom standing in that bridal suite right now—looking healthy, smiling, wearing the exact custom charcoal suit with the silver silk lining that we picked out together for our wedding—is Adrian."
A sharp intake of breath hissed through the phone. "What? Are you out of your mind? Adrian is dead, Meredith! You went to his funeral!"
"So did I think," I whispered, tears spilling hot and fast down my cheeks, washing away the remnants of my ruined makeup. "So did I think. But he’s here. His mother is here. And they are planning a wedding with another woman. They lied to me, Chloe. Every single one of them."
"That is... that is monstrous," Chloe gasped, her voice rising in outrage. "That’s illegal! People don't just fake their deaths like some cheap television drama! Call the police! Call 911 right now!"
"No," I said, and as I spoke the word, the trembling in my hands suddenly stopped. A cold, terrifying clarity settled over my bones. The grief that had crippled me for three months didn't vanish—it transmuted, morphing into a cold, diamond-hard resolve. "Calling the cops right now would be too easy. It would give them a courtroom, a lawyer, a controlled environment to spin their lies. They let me suffer. They watched me fall apart. They watched me pour my entire soul into mourning a ghost while he was out living his life."
I stared at my tear-streaked face in the mirror. My eyes were red, but the pupils were dilated, sharp, and focused.
"Meredith, what are you planning?" Chloe asked, her tone shifting from panic to nervous apprehension. "You sound terrifying right now."
"I’m going back out there," I said quietly. "The ceremony starts in twenty minutes. The guests are taking their seats. The bride is about to walk down the aisle. And I have a very special floral arrangement to deliver."
"Meredith, don't do anything reckless—"
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"I’ve never been more clear-headed in my life," I interrupted, cutting her off. "Keep your phone on. In about an hour, the local news outlets are going to have a field day. Make sure our shop logo looks good on camera."
I hung up before she could argue further, dropped the phone into my apron pocket, and walked out of the restroom.
