Chapter 2

The next morning, Jack came to take me home. He was driving the same black Bentley he'd used to take me to the hotel three years ago.

As soon as he opened the door, I spotted a box of lemon candies on the back seat.

"Still your favorite brand," he said.

He held the car door open for me. "You've always gotten carsick. Have one. It'll help settle your stomach."

I picked up a candy, unwrapped it, and popped it into my mouth. As the sourness spread across my tongue, memories of three years ago came rushing back.

Jack had been the one driving that night, too.

My drink had been spiked, leaving me so weak I could barely move. But I was still conscious enough to know what was happening. I'd clung to his sleeve, sobbing as I begged him to take me to the hospital.

But all he'd said was, "Winnie, Lawson Group's over a billion dollars in debt. If Hayden agrees to help us, we can still save the company. Just do this one last thing for Mom and Dad."

Then he'd pried my fingers off his sleeve, one by one, and handed me over to the hotel manager.

The next morning, I'd stumbled out of Hayden's room with my clothes in disarray.

My family had survived. But I'd become the most shameless woman in all of Jinton.

Three years later, Jack still remembered that I got carsick. Yet he'd never once asked whether I still had nightmares about that night.

The car pulled up to the side entrance of our family's villa.

Jack pulled his cap lower over his face and got out first, looking around to make sure no one was watching. "We'll go in this way. Reporters are watching the Prescotts and the Monroes like hawks right now. We can't let anyone photograph you coming home."

I followed him into the living room.

Mom hurried towards me, her eyes red with tears, and pulled me into a tight embrace. "Winnie, I've finally got my little girl back."

She held me so tightly. But the very next second, she glanced nervously toward the floor-to-ceiling windows. "Why are the curtains still open? What if someone across the street takes a picture?"

The housekeepers immediately drew all the blackout curtains. The living room plunged into darkness. It felt like they were already holding my funeral, one they were too ashamed to let anyone see.

Dad was sitting on the couch with three cemetery brochures spread out in front of him. On the screen in front of him was a mock-up of my memorial service, sent over by the funeral home.

A large black-and-white portrait of me stood at the center. In the picture, I wore a white dress and smiled happily at the camera.

Hayden had taken that photo on my birthday last year. Now they'd turned it black and white and added a line beneath it. "In Loving Memory of Our Beloved Daughter, Winifred Lawson. Forever in Our Hearts."

Dad glanced up at me. "Good, you're here. You can pick your own burial plot. The one in Whiston is peaceful, but it's a little pricey. The cemetery in Sefton is a bit farther out, but the geomancer says it'll bring good fortune to future generations."

I flipped through the brochures. "If I'm supposed to be dead, why would I care about bringing good fortune to future generations?"

Dad's expression darkened. "It's just a headstone. We're only doing this for appearances. You're still the daughter of the Lawson family. We can't just leave you with nothing."

Mom quickly took my hand. "That's not what your father meant. We just want somewhere we can visit when we miss you."

I asked, "Will you actually come visit me?"

Mom froze for a moment.

Jack sat down at the computer, deliberately avoiding my gaze. "We'll have someone bring flowers on the anniversary of your death and on your birthday."

So, they weren't even going to visit me themselves. They were going to send someone else.

The PR team arrived shortly afterward. They brought three versions of my obituary, along with a tribute video they'd already prepared.

In the video, Jack faced the camera with tears in his eyes. "Winnie has always been such a thoughtful little sister. She may have been rebellious and made mistakes, but she'll always be someone we love dearly."

When the video ended, Jack frowned. "Cut the part about her being rebellious."

The PR manager asked, "Then how should we address what happened at the hotel three years ago?"

Dad answered coldly, "We don't need to. Once she's dead, people will stop dragging her name through the mud."

I stared at Jack's face on the screen. "You've already recorded my eulogy?"

Jack shifted uncomfortably. "It's just a recording we made in advance. Once the yacht accident happens, we can release it immediately. That'll make the public reaction easier to manage."

With that, he pushed the box of lemon candies toward me. "Winnie, don't overthink it. It's not like you're actually dying."

I nodded. "Once I'm overseas, can I still call Mom?"

The living room suddenly fell silent.

Dad closed the brochure. "No. The Prescotts will give you a new identity. Any contact with someone back home could expose you."

"What if I get sick?"

"Hayden has arranged a private doctor for you."

"What about Christmas?"

Mom tightened her grip on my hand. "Winnie, you're an adult now. There's nothing wrong with spending the holidays alone. If you get lonely, you can always ask your housekeeper to keep you company."

I turned to Jack. "Will you come visit me?"

He was silent for several seconds. "The company can't run without me right now. We'll talk about it once things settle down."

But we both knew things would never settle down.

Because I was supposed to be dead, and a dead woman wasn't supposed to have a brother, much less sit around waiting for him to visit.

Mom placed a rendering of a cemetery plot in my hands. "I picked the one in Whiston for you. It's a little expensive, but you always loved watching sunsets when you were little. The view there is beautiful."

She still remembered how much I loved sunsets. Just as Jack still remembered that I got carsick.

They remembered all the little things about me, the things that made it seem like they loved me. Yet not one of them actually wanted me to stay.

As Jack walked me to the door, he slipped two more lemon candies into my palm. "Winnie, Hayden has treated you well. A house, money, a new identity… He's giving you more than most people could earn in several lifetimes.

"He's making sure you're set for life. That's more than enough to show he's taking responsibility for you."

I lowered my gaze to the candies in my palm.

Three years ago, Jack had driven me to Hayden's hotel and handed me over to him. Three years later, he was driving me straight back into Hayden's hands.

The first time, he'd told me it was for the sake of our family. This time, he claimed it was for my own good. But the outcome was exactly the same.

All he ever cared about was sending me away. He'd never once considered bringing me home.