Five Years a Widow, Then the Truth

I finally make it home the following morning after getting dragged and assaulted in an alley the previous night. Chris Graham, my husband, is consumed with rage after learning what happened. He tracks down the assailant and stabs him. He is later killed in prison in retaliation. Queenie Stewart, the lawyer handling my defense case—who also happens to be my older sister—gets hit by a car and ends up in a vegetative state. Everyone blames me for dragging Chris and Queenie into this and tells me that I should have been the one to die instead. I'm fired from my job, and Mom and Dad even kick me out of the house. In the span of five years, I suffer a broken leg and permanent damage to half my esophagus, forcing me to rely on a feeding tube. However, I never stop investigating what really happened. Just as I track down another lead and get ready to set sail, Mom stops me, looking completely helpless. "You should drop the investigation, Hannah. Chris is still alive, but he's already married to Queenie." I stand there in shock as Mom avoids my gaze. "We helped Chris fake his death five years ago. Queenie was never in a vegetative state either. They're living happily in Havenport now. They even have a daughter together. They just sent your father and me a group photo of them yesterday. You should just leave them alone, Hannah…" I feel my blood run cold as I tremble violently. "You're just saying this to make me feel better, right, Mom?" Mom taps her phone with a cold expression and shows me her lock-screen wallpaper. Chris holds Queenie's hand and carries a little girl in his arms, the three of them smiling together. "Chris and Queenie are clearly a better match than you two. Queenie has taken good care of Chris for the past five years. Can't you step aside and let them be together? Their wedding is next week, and all our relatives will be there. Please don't cause a scene, Hannah." I clench my fists as tears stream down my face. It turns out that everyone has known all along—I'm the only one who's been kept in the dark.