Chapter 2

I couldn't understand how the person they were talking about—the traitor who had betrayed her principles and disgraced the entire field of forensic science—could possibly be me. I'd never betrayed anyone!

I'd died protecting that evidence. I'd given my life to preserve the truth, yet seven years later, everyone believed I was the one who had destroyed it.

How had everything gone so horribly wrong? Why had the truth been twisted into such a cruel lie?

My thoughts spiraled into chaos as grief and resentment surged through me like a black tide. The injustice was unbearable, and the more I thought about everything I'd lost, the more fiercely my anger burned.

Then, deep within my soul, an unshakable obsession took hold—a desperate, all-consuming need to uncover the truth and clear my name.

Before I could even comprehend what was happening, that obsession seemed to transform into invisible chains, dragging me out of the cold autopsy room and pulling me toward an unknown destination.

When I finally realized where I was, I found myself following a tall, imposing figure. It was Sebastian Jacobson, my former fiancé.

He carried a briefcase, and a faint crease of exhaustion lingered between his brows, but time had only made him more striking.

Seven years had passed since I'd last seen him, and the youthful innocence he'd once possessed had long since disappeared. In its place was the polished confidence of a mature man, his every movement exuding the effortless charisma and authority of someone accustomed to commanding attention.

Walking beside him was my father, once one of the most respected men on the police force. The years had taken their toll on him, leaving his once-straight back slightly stooped and stark white streaks spreading through the hair at his temples.

Seeing him again after seven years stirred something deep inside me, but this reunion was nothing like the one I'd once dreamed of. I was dead, my name had been dragged through the mud, and the people I'd loved most had spent years believing I was a monster.

"Any preliminary results on that skeleton yet?" My father's voice was slightly hoarse, worn down by the weight of the years.

"We're still waiting on the DNA comparison. But Dr. Mitchell estimates the victim died no more than seven years ago and was brutally murdered. There are deep cut marks all over the ribs and skull. It looks like the victim was tortured before death."

Sebastian spoke with the calm, detached precision of a seasoned professional.

At the word "tortured", my father stiffened almost imperceptibly. Sebastian's expression darkened, too, and for a brief moment, something heavy and unspoken passed between them.

But my father quickly composed himself, burying whatever emotions had surfaced beneath his familiar mask of authority, then abruptly changed the subject.

"Enough. There's no need to dwell on something so depressing. Your mother and Isabelle have dinner ready at home, and the little ones have been asking about you all day. You should head back before they start complaining."

"Okay," Sebastian answered casually, seemingly unaware of how much those words had shaken me.

He adjusted the briefcase in his hand and added, "Got it, Dad. Let's head home now."

My soul followed Sebastian's car helplessly all the way back to the house where I'd grown up. The moment the front door opened, two adorable children came running toward him and my father, their little faces lighting up with excitement.

"Daddy! Grandpa!" they cried, their childish voices filling the house with joy.

Sebastian's furrowed brows relaxed, and a gentle smile spread across his face. It was a tenderness I'd never seen him show before, one that seemed to come naturally as he bent to greet the children.

"Did Leo and Nora behave at school today?" he asked, glancing toward the people behind me.

Before I could make sense of what was happening, a woman stepped forward with a smile, passing straight through my incorporeal body without even noticing me.

"Not at all. They don't listen to a word I say when you're not around."

It was Isabelle Sinclair.

I stood frozen, staring at the happy family gathered before me.

It felt as though an invisible hand had closed around my heart, crushed it, and hurled me into the deepest pit of hell. The pain was so overwhelming that, after a while, I couldn't even feel it anymore.

All that remained was endless numbness, a bone-deep cold that seeped into the very depths of my soul.

My fiancé had built a family with another woman. My parents had welcomed my murderer into their home with open arms. Somehow, the woman who'd taken my life had become part of the family I'd once called my own. They'd even allowed her to call them Mom and Dad.

How could they? How could the people who were supposed to love me believe I was a traitor while embracing the very woman who had killed me?

Isabelle slipped her arm through Sebastian's and gave him a tender smile. "Mom finished cooking ages ago. She's been telling me to come downstairs and wait for you two."

My gaze locked onto her, and a surge of hatred tore through me.

Her voice was still as sweet and gentle as I remembered, and she wore the same innocent, helpless expression she'd perfected seven years ago.

Back then, she'd used that fragile facade to win everyone's sympathy and trust, little by little, until she'd finally lured me into a trap I never escaped alive. She'd fooled everyone so thoroughly that even after my death, they still saw her as the innocent victim and me as the villain.

My eyes burned with such intense hatred that it felt as though blood might spill from them, and my spirit trembled uncontrollably with rage.

I lunged at her, desperate to tear away that false mask of innocence and expose the monster hiding beneath it. But just as before, my hands passed straight through her body, leaving her completely untouched.

I tried again and again, each attempt ending in the same agonizing failure, until I finally had no choice but to stop.

All I could do was watch helplessly as Isabelle nestled against Sebastian, smiling as though she had every right to be there.

She had stolen my life, destroyed my reputation, and taken my place in the hearts of the people I'd loved most. Now, she was enjoying the very happiness that should have been mine.

Meanwhile, I remained nothing more than a restless spirit, invisible and powerless, forced to watch the woman who'd murdered me live the life I'd once dreamed of.