2pac Autopsy Photo

Three months pregnant, I doubled over in agony, blood pooling beneath me. I called Milo Prince in a last-ditch effort for help. The moment he picked up, his voice dripped with irritation. "What is it now?" My vision was blurring. Before I could cry for help, I heard his childhood sweetheart's teasing laugh. "No interruptions today, okay?" The line went dead in the next second. When I opened my eyes again, my belly was flat. I checked Jessica Clay's social media. A photo showed their hands intertwined, her wrist adorned with the Prince family's heirloom bracelet. Her caption read, [He said this bracelet was made for me, so I'm keeping it.]

My flower stall that's stationed outside the university entrance gets thrashed by the hooligans hired by my husband, Anthony Rivera. So, I show up at Sienna Wright, the low-income student's graduation ceremony with a bouquet of roses. Anthony, who's a university professor, is in the middle of turning Sienna's tassel for her. When they are taking a photo together with smiles on their faces, I turn on my megaphone right away. "My husband longs to have two wives. One is the student he's sleeping with. To celebrate their affair, all roses are now 3 dollars each." Everyone just stares at Anthony, clearly dumbfounded. Meanwhile, Anthony, who prides himself on being cool and composed, finds himself panicking once again.

Zackary and I had been married for seven years and finally had our first child. But seeing the pregnancy result, he suspected that the child was not his. Out of anger, I went to do a paternity test with him. On the day the result came out, Zackary, who was supposed to be in the hospital, appeared at my door. He was holding a photo. The photo showed that my underwear was at his friend's house. He kicked me so hard that I lost my baby. He shouted, "You bitch, you dare to cheat on me. I won't raise another man's child, you know. Go to hell!" Later he knew the truth and begged my dead child to come back.

The day my wife slept with her terminally ill “male best friend” to take his virginity, I left a divorce agreement behind and walked out. Before I left, I commented under their hand-holding photo on Instagram. [Let's get divorced. I wish you and Theo a long and happy life together.] One minute later, she called me. "Logan, how did I end up marrying someone as selfish as you? Can you really let him die without someone to carry on his line?" I sneered and replied that she wasn't my wife anymore, so that wasn't really my problem. She panicked.

After a one-night stand, I left a three-thousand tip for a flawless male model and even set up another night that weekend. I thought it was nothing more than a pleasant exchange between two willing adults. That was before my overprotective, old-fashioned brother saw the marks covering me and exploded: "Track down the bastard who hurt my sister. I want him hunted down and ripped apart!" The police stared at the photo for a long moment before one of them spoke softly: "Isn't this… Frederick, the Alpha King of the Bloodmoon Wolf Kingdom?" That was when it hit me. I had taken the Alpha King for a one-night deal. I had paid him three thousand.

I receive a mysterious parcel on my fifth wedding anniversary. Inside the box are photos of my husband, Luke Madden, being intimate with his assistant. The photos go back a long time—they seem to start from over five years ago. The latest one was taken half a month ago. He, his assistant, and their daughter are playing by the seaside. They smile brightly in the photo and look like a happy family of three. I suppress my devastation and take medication to terminate my pregnancy. Then, I pull out my phone to text my mother. "I'll do as you say and get a divorce, Mom. I'll be back next month to take over the company."

During my night shift, I refused to help my adopted sister administer fluids to her patient. After the wrong drug is given, I watch a seven-year-old boy die after he suffers an allergic reaction right before my eyes. In my previous life, the boy's family stormed the nurses' station after I'd just finished administering his IV medication. The next thing I knew, I was violently beaten up. "You poisoned my grandchild by giving him the wrong medicine!" But the fluid I introduced into his bloodstream was a simple glucose solution. It couldn't have led to such a disastrous outcome. When I was on the brink of passing out, someone called the police. I thought help had finally arrived, but I was sorely mistaken. The police officer—my brother—pinned me to the ground. "We found your prints on the drug vial. You're a murderer." Then, my childhood friend, a forensic pathologist, held up an autopsy report and accused me of the same crime. "The patient's time of death is around 5:00 am. That's the same time you administered drugs into his system." Unable to prove my innocence, I was ultimately beaten to death by the boy's enraged family members. My brother and my childhood friend had always loved me. Even on the brink of death, I couldn't understand why they would do this to me. Now, I open my eyes and find myself back on the night it all began.

After I, Wynn Jaffe, the Chief Forensic Pathologist, submitted my request to transfer into a clerical position, everyone in the department lit up with joy and approved it unanimously. Everyone except my boyfriend’s childhood friend, Yvette Hans, the rookie forensic doctor who called herself the ‘corpse whisperer,’ completely broke down. She burst into my office, grabbed onto my white coat with both hands with reddened eyes. “Senior, your skills may be outdated, but I truly hope you’ll stay and keep speaking up for the victims!” I coldly shrugged off her hand, packed my things, and walked away. In my previous life, she claimed herself as the ‘corpse whisperer,’ someone who could commune with the dead, hear their murmurs, and know what happened to them before they died. I worked tirelessly on every autopsy, dissecting, analyzing, and revising my reports. She only needed a single glance at the body to recite my entire report word-for-word. The victims’ families treated her like a saint, while they sneered at me, accusing me of disrespecting the dead. I could not accept it. I poured everything I had into every examination, but she always beat me to it, revealing the truth before I could. In the end, an extreme group of grieving family members, convinced I desecrated a corpse, kidnapped me, dismembered me, and dumped my remains in the wilderness. When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn back to the very day Yvette first claimed she was a corpse whisperer.

After my 99th confession, my childhood best friend, Michael Leight, finally says yes. I am overjoyed, believing that my years of unrequited love have finally paid off. But when I walk past the pantry, I overhear him speaking tenderly to our family chef, Tahlia Duvey. "Once I take everything from the Kingstons, I'll kick that idiot Ariel to the curb and throw us a grand wedding. Everything here will be yours." My heart feels like a sword has been plunged into it. That night, I storm into Grandpa's study and point at a photo of the Gordon family's heir—Charles, known for always keeping his distance from women. "Grandpa! I want to marry him!" I announce.

Adriana Soraya, manusia setengah Vampire yang menjadi Luna dari RedMoon Pack. Latar belakang tentang dirinya yang sama sekali tidak dia ketahui membuat perang yang seharusnya tidak terjadi malah tercetus begitu Adriana bertemu Sang Ibu yang dia yakini sudah tiada. Rasa cintanya pada Aldrean yang sudah menjadikannya Mate membuat hatinya bimbang, memilih antara Ibundanya yang tiba-tiba hadir dihadapannya atau Aldrean Sang Pemilik Hatinya.Namun, sebelum semua itu terjadi. Perjalanan Adriana tidak semulus itu, banyak hal yang ia pinjak tanpa alas kaki, bahkan bara sekalipun ia lewati.*Cover photo by Alice AliNari from Pexels