Pray That I Don't Haunt You

Two more days passed.

Zachary, reeking of alcohol, helped Nina through the door. Their unsteady steps caused them both to tumble onto the couch inside.

In a daze, Zachary grabbed his phone and dialed a specific number.

I glanced over and realized that he was trying to reach me.

A cold chill spread through my body.

The phone rang, but soon went to voicemail. Undeterred, Zachary dialed a few more times, but still no one answered.

I let out a bitter laugh. How could I answer when I was already dead?

Besides, my phone had been in the water tank with me.

Zachary's face darkened. He typed out a message and sent it to me.

"Sarah, you should know your place. You've been living off me all these years. Without me, you're nothing. You'd better show up before I lose my temper."

Nina looped her arm around his neck and pouted. "Zac, I want some of Sarah's ravioli."

Without thinking, Zachary said, "I'll tell her to make it for you. Consider it an apology."

I froze, fury and hatred rising in my chest.

"Zachary Finch! I didn't lay a hand on her! She framed me! And now you want me to serve her?" I screamed in frustration, but he couldn't hear me.

Nina whispered sweetly, "You're so good to me, Zac. I'll be with you forever, even if it means living in the shadows."

Zachary, looking deeply moved, took her wrist in his hand.

Seeing the look of devotion on his face twisted my heart with unbearable pain.

When he proposed to me, he spoke so lovingly, promising that I would be the esteemed lady of the Finch family. But now, I was dead with two babies in my belly.

As the two of them neared a passionate moment, the living room lights suddenly flickered on.

Zachary stood up in irritation and glared at the cause of the interruption—Bobby.

"Mr. Hudson, you'd better have something important to say, or you know the consequences."

Nina scrambled, looking for something to cover herself. Zachary quickly threw his suit jacket over her.

I stared at that jacket, lost in thought.

It was something I had designed for him. Though I wasn't a designer, I was willing to learn the trade for him.

Now, that jacket was covering another woman.

Bobby's face turned pale as he lowered his head and hoarsely said, "Mr. Finch, Mrs. Finch… is gone."