Mag-log inGrace asked, "What if he comes looking for you after he gets out?"I thought for a moment."He won't.""Why?""Because he knows he won't get near me. Security will stop him at the door. Then I'll call the police."She laughed."Cold.""Self-preservation." I turned a page of sketches. "With some people, once is more than enough."In the ninth year, Nathan was released.I didn't know where he went.I didn't want to know.All I knew was that after that, nobody mentioned his name again.Grace and I kept living.Business was better than ever. We bought an old factory in Port Azure and turned it into a design studio and showroom.She took on several young apprentices and taught them fashion design.I handled the brand and business side. Every day was packed, and I loved it.One evening, after we'd finished work, we took our beers onto the studio roof.There weren't many stars over Port Azure. But the lights of the city shone brighter than stars anyway."Hannah?""Yeah?""
Another year later, West & Wild opened its first flagship store.It was a beautiful space beside the Azure River, with floor-to-ceiling windows facing the water.Customers, bloggers, even a few investors came to the opening.Grace greeted them in a white dress she'd designed herself. She was grinning like a kid.Watching from behind the crowd, I remembered her in our first life.Sitting in a rented room with two damaged fingers, staring at a blank sheet of paper.She hadn't cried.She'd only said, "I can't draw anymore."I'd thought her life was over.It wasn't.She'd needed a chance. A chance to begin again.This time, I was here to make sure she got one.After the store closed, we sat on a bench by the river, each holding a beer.Lights shimmered on the water. The breeze carried a faint briny smell."Grace?""Yeah?""Thank you."She turned toward me."For what?""For not blaming me in our last life."She blinked, then laughed."There you go again. Last life, this
The fake-death scheme had been Vanessa's idea.Making her the beneficiary had been their joint decision. She'd thought the moment Nathan died, the $1.2 million would be hers.She'd even picked out a house in Fairhaven before the payout arrived.She hadn't counted on me getting to it first.Nathan spent ten hours on a slow train, then dragged his suitcase to her beauty salon.Her first words weren't "Are you okay?"They were, "Where's the money?""My wife got it. She challenged the insurer. The court ruled for her..."Vanessa's face darkened."What? One point two million, and you didn't get a cent?""Listen, we can find another way—""Another way?" She sneered. "You're legally dead. You have no valid ID and no money. What exactly are you bringing to the table? Your looks?"He tried to explain. She didn't let him."I waited a year for you. I sold the salon. I was ready to leave the country the moment that money came through. And now you're telling me it's gone?"She pointed
For West & Wild's first anniversary, we threw a small party.Nothing extravagant. A few tables in the studio, dinner with longtime customers and suppliers.Grace drank too much that night. Holding my hand, she said, "A year ago, I thought that was all there was going to be.""What do you mean?""Nothing. No work. No future. No man." She blinked hard. "If you hadn't brought me out of Riverton, I'd probably still be drifting through the days, waiting to die."I poured her some tea."You weren't waiting to die. You were waiting for me."She stared, then laughed."When did you start talking like a novelist?"I laughed, too.I didn't tell her that, in a way, I had become one.I'd written the story of my first life in a little booklet. Grace was the only person I'd shown it to.She'd cried all night after reading it."This isn't a novel. This is our life.""No," I'd told her. "It's the life we had before. This one, we write ourselves."Two months after the anniversary, Grace f
In Port Azure's Riverside district, we rented a tiny studio for eighteen hundred dollars a month.Studio was a generous word. It was one floor of an old apartment building, a two-bedroom unit we'd repurposed.The living room became our showroom. The larger bedroom was the pattern room; the smaller one, our office.Grace slept in a partitioned nook behind the living room. I took a little room beside the balcony.It was rough, but it was cheap. And the Central Textile Market was about a mile away.Grace had studied fashion design. In my first life, her label had almost taken off before Nathan paid someone to wreck her hand and destroy that dream.This time, I would help her get it back.I set aside a hundred and fifty thousand dollars in working capital for equipment rentals, fabric, and trademark registration.Grace named the brand West & Wild.West for me. Wild for everything we were finally free to become.Our first dress was her design: vintage French styling in imported ra
At four the next morning, before the sun was up, Grace and I loaded two suitcases into her used Volkswagen Golf and headed for the highway.Apart from the luggage, we had one canvas bag.Inside were a hundred and fifty thousand dollars in cash, copies of the property documents, the business sale agreement, and proof of the $1.2 million insurance payout.Grace drove. I sat beside her.As we left Riverton, I looked back once.The city lights grew smaller behind the rain.At this point in my first life, I'd been sitting vigil for a man who wasn't dead, crying until I could barely see.Now I was in the passenger seat with the wind tangling my hair.And I couldn't stop smiling.Grace glanced over."What's funny?""How stupid I was in my last life."She didn't answer. She just turned up the music.An old song about the world outside.At dawn, we stopped at a service plaza, bought instant noodles, and sat on the steps to eat them.Grace slurped a mouthful."If Nathan really is







