BILLIONAIRE'S DEAD WIFE RETURNS

Kyla. I stare at the word on the test again just to be sure. Pregnant. Clear as daylight. My hands are trembling, and my eyes are wet with disbelief, my breath caught between a laugh and a sob."I'm pregnant," I whisper to myself, almost afraid to say it aloud, afraid the universe might hear and take it back.A fresh wave of emotion crashes over me, and I clutch the test against my chest, shutting my eyes. Jake and I have been trying for two years. Two long, exhausting, heart wrenching years of negative tests, hormone treatments, late night tears, and silent prayers whispered in the dark when he couldn't hear me crying. And now, it was finally happening. I was going to be a mommy. I scramble for my phone, my fingers still trembling as I open our text thread. Kyla: Baby come home early if you can. I have something to tell you. It’s good news. Really good, see you soon. I stare at the message, considering adding more. Should I just tell him now? No. I want to see his face. I want to

(The driver's pov?) I didn’t see her until it was too late.One second I was cursing the world, gripping the steering wheel too tight, and the next bam! She ran out into the road like a ghost. No warning. No time to swerve. Just a flash of a face soaked in tears, eyes wide with devastation, and then the sickening thud of her body hitting the hood and tumbling lifelessly onto the pavement.I slam on the brakes so hard my chest slams into the steering wheel. Tires scream. My heart is pounding, my mouth dry, my palms slick with panic.“Oh God,” I gasp, flinging the door open and stumbling out into the night.She’s lying there. Motionless. Her dark hair fanned around her head like a halo. Her skin pale beneath the streetlamp’s glow. Her coat twisted around her body like it’s trying to shield her from what just happened.I kneel beside her, trembling.“Hey… hey!” I whisper, reaching out to shake her shoulder. “Are you okay? Can you hear me?”Nothing.There is no response or movement.I pr

Jake. I’ve forgotten what day it is.I haven’t slept since she disappeared. How could I? The coffee in my cup has gone cold for the fourth time this morning, but I still bring it to my lips out of habit. My body is running on fumes, but my mind, my mind won’t stop running at all. It keeps playing that moment on a loop: walking into our quiet house, finding the positive pregnancy test on the counter, and then nothing.Just a silence so thick it wraps around everything in this house like a funeral shroud.They’ve been searching for four days now. Four days of dragging the river, scanning woods, combing every inch of town with volunteers and canines. I joined every damn hour they’d let me. I barely left the search site. I screamed her name until my throat burned. Every rustling bush gave me hope. Every piece of floating debris made my chest clench.Until yesterday.When they found the clothes.They said they were hers. I didn’t need to be told that, I knew them the second I saw the pic

Kyla. Washed Away, Waking UpI feel like I’m drowning.Weightless and heavy at the same time, as though I’m suspended in a place between this world and the next. Cold water laps against my skin. The sound of waves murmuring in the distance, seagulls screeching above it all feels like a dream. My body refuses to move, yet my soul feels restless, aching for something... someone.Then I hear a voice.“Over here! I think it’s a woman!”More voices echo, muffled and urgent. I try to open my eyes, to speak, but my body doesn’t respond. Darkness pulls me back under, and the world vanishes again.When I wake again, it’s different. There’s a sterile smell. A rhythmic beeping sound. Something cold is wrapped around my wrist. The ceiling above me is white. Too white. I blink slowly, confused, as pain slowly claws its way into my awareness.A nurse notices me and gasps. “Doctor! She’s awake! She’s awake!”Footsteps shuffle in quickly. A man in a white coat appears beside me, eyes widening with s

Six years later KylaThat’s how long it’s been since I last saw the skyline of New York City.The sharp lines of the towering buildings, the chaos of yellow cabs honking down Fifth Avenue, and the smell God, I’d forgotten the smell of roasted peanuts and hot dog stands blending with the distinct scent of rain hitting concrete.I stare out of the cab window, my fingers tightening around the leather strap of my purse. Chanel is asleep beside me, her tiny head leaning against my side. Elias sits on the other end, earbuds in and eyes focused on the screen of his iPad. They don’t know what this city means to me, what ghosts lie buried beneath its glittering streets.But they will. One day, they will.“Here we are, ma’am,” the cab driver says, pulling up outside the modest brownstone I’d rented through an alias.I nod and reach for my wallet. “Thanks,” I say, handing over the fare and nudging Chanel gently. “Sweetheart, we’re here.”She blinks up at me sleepily, then stretches her little a