Blank Autopsy Report

I secured a big deal for the company and was promoted to manager. However, I overheard my boss' secretary gossiping in the pantry, saying that I was brainless and only got where I was by using my body. I was so angry that I wanted to report it to the police. Surprisingly, her husband stopped me and forced his wife to bow and apologize to me, begging for forgiveness. Things got worse on the next day. Someone shared my inappropriate photos in the company group chat along with records of me supposedly checking into a hotel with a man. My colleagues looked at me with contempt, as if they all knew what was happening but refused to speak up. Even my boss fired me, saying I had moral issues. My husband immediately divorced me when he found out, took our daughter away, and left me with nothing. Neighbors pointed fingers and whispered about me. I was so overwhelmed that I lost my senses and was killed by a car crash. When I opened my eyes, I returned to the day I was promoted.

My best friend, Yara Campbell, got reborn back to the day she was to reunite with the richest family in town, the Waltons. She didn't want to relive her fate as the Waltons' marionette that was trapped in a gilded cage, so she refused to go home with them. That was why she didn't hesitate to push me out instead. As I gazed at Grace Robinson, whose fingers were adorned with diamond rings, and Raymond Walton, who looked like he was made of money, I instantly rushed toward them. There was no way I'd let this golden opportunity slip through my fingers, after all! Five years later, Yara shows up on the Walters' doorstep with a paternity test report in her hands. She then demands that I be cast out of the family. But she's too late. In the past five years, I'm no longer the replacement she had used on a whim back then. Now, I'm the second-in-command in Walton Group. No one in this family can possibly usurp my position from me now.

When I'm on my break, I decide to help my neighbor, Yvonne Cook, fix the gas valve, which has been leaking gas. But she instantly lodges a report, saying that I've gone against the rules. She demands compensation for the shock that she's suffered as well. I don't bother defending myself. Instead, I just write a reflection report. After that, my squad leader sentences me to disciplinary confinement. Yvonne wastes no time gloating in the tenants' group chat. "It's time to teach these power-abusers a good lesson, anyway!" Three days later, a fire breaks out in Yvonne's apartment. Thick plumes of dark smoke keep rising from the burning apartment. Yvonne wails as she bangs on my door and pleads with me. "Please crack open the door and put out the fire!" I can only sigh from behind my front door. "I'm under disciplinary suspension right now, so I can't break protocol. You should wait for the fire truck instead."

Right before our Mating Ceremony, my mate, Alpha Damien, told me he had to temporarily mark an Omega from our pack, Seraphina. He claimed she had the Moon Sickness and would die if he didn't mark her. I fought him on it, but the next day, he moved Seraphina right into the penthouse of the Pack House. The suite meant for the future Luna. My suite. To calm me, he even got on his knees, his eyes red as he promised, "Once she's safe, I'll remove the mark. You'll still be my only Luna." But then, Seraphina found me, a medical report in her hand. Six weeks pregnant. They'd already held their marking ceremony long before Damien ever came to me. My heart shattered into ash. My pen dug into the calendar, carving a vicious X over the date that was supposed to be our Mating Ceremony. Then, I opened my laptop and replied to the email from the European Laurel Healers' Guild. "I accept your invitation. I leave on the day of the Mating Ceremony."

In the late stages of her pregnancy, my wife slipped away into the mountains with her childhood sweetheart, seeking some reckless thrill under the open sky. Fate, however, had other plans. She suffered a massive hemorrhage, and the two were rushed to the hospital. As a doctor, I took one glance at her condition and instructed the nurse to prepare for the cremation. In my previous life, I had risked everything to save her. On that very operating table, she and the child inside her perished together. Her childhood sweetheart, overcome with grief and fury, rallied others to accuse me of seeking personal revenge. Their rage was relentless, and they broke my hands. "A butcher like you, without medical ethics, deserves nothing less than eternal damnation!" they shouted, their words burning like brands on my soul. Yet I distinctly remembered—the surgery had been a success. Her vital signs had stabilized. Clinging to hope, I begged my in-laws to conduct an autopsy, to uncover the truth buried beneath the accusations. Instead, they called the police, who swiftly charged me with performing surgery under the influence of alcohol. Stripped of my rights, I was thrown into prison, where suffering became my only companion. Years later, upon release, I stumbled across a sight that tore what was left of my heart to shreds—my wife, alive and well, behind the wheel of a luxury car, accompanied by her childhood sweetheart and their child, living off the fortune I had worked tirelessly to build. Their betrayal didn't end there. Coldly and methodically, they lured me into a trap, casting me into a cement mixer to erase every trace of my existence. When I next opened my eyes, time had rewound itself. I was back on that fateful day, the one when her hemorrhage began.

I went to visit the set where my chaste fiancee, the award-winning actress Whitney Lockwood, was shooting her new movie. When I heard she was shooting a bed scene, I frowned but still agreed. However, her scene partner, a young actor named Yarden Stein, could not get into character. Whitney grew impatient. She said they should do it for real. I stopped her and said they could use a body double instead. She slapped me across the face and glared at me with teary eyes. “Yale, this movie is very important to me! I have to make sure it’s perfect! Or do you think my first time matters more than the career I love most?” In the next second, she tore off all her garments and climbed onto the young actor without hesitation. She turned to look at me. Her eyes were full of sorrow. “I’ll imagine Yarden is you. Then, it will be no different from being with you.” I watched them slowly prepare for the scene. I heard the clapboard snap as filming began. My face stayed blank as I made a phone call. “Blacklist Whitney and Yarden. Anyone who still hires them will be making an enemy of the Foster family.”

When I was nine, I was caught in the blast while trying to save Joel Yorks, and the loud wave took away my hearing. Since then, I have had to wear hearing aids. Joel felt guilty. He insisted on having my hand in marriage. With his eyes welling up in tears, he swore, “Helen, I’ll take care of you for the rest of your life.” However, when I turned eighteen… Everything changed because he wanted to please the prettiest girl in the school. He ripped off my hearing aid in front of her and our classmates and said in disdain, “I’ve had enough of you being a burden. I really wish you hadn’t survived that day when you were nine. It would have been better if you were dead.” I clutched my audiology report and stayed silent. When I got home, I quietly revised my college applications and formally broke the engagement along with my parents. Joel and I would go our separate ways after that. We would not need to meet again.

What happens when a food-obsessed blogger dies mid-bite and wakes up as the royal psychiatrist to a Lycan king who’s one bad day away from burning the kingdom down? Ariana never asked to be Lady Elena Voss: ice-cold healer by day, assassin by night, and—thanks to a cosmic clerical error—the fated mate of King Kael Draven, a man whose mind is a battlefield and whose violent alter ego is counting down to total takeover. Kael can hear every single one of her unfiltered thoughts: the panic, the food cravings, the 3 a.m. Reddit scrolls, the running commentary about how stupidly hot he is. And somehow, her chaos is the only thing keeping him halfway human. But Elena’s old life isn’t staying buried. Old enemies remember her blades. Her emotionless little sister is hiding something behind those blank blue eyes. And the snarky blue orb feeding her “missions” might not be what it seems. As the mate bond tightens and Kael’s darkness claws closer, two questions burn louder than the rest: What if the thing she was sent here to heal… is the very thing that will kill her? Can a girl with zero qualifications, a Reddit addiction, and a possessed wolf pup save a broken king— or will his monster claim her first?

"What is it?" "It's called Dissociative Amnesia Disorder." "Well, what's that?" "It's a memory disorder. It explains your memory loss of that night. But not about how you could forgot your father's name." *** I hate it. I hate that I couldn't remember the name of the person who took care of me. The person who raised me, the person who loved me. I spent years trying to find out. I've read every book, every mission report, every newspaper in the country. But, nada. Nothing of that incident ever reported. It's like it never happened. But I know it did. I remembered it, every single moment. Until everything turns dark. But little did I know, the answer was staring at me the whole time. *** Katrina Clyde, a brilliant girl, the best agent from the Spy Division of La Reu Inc. She's surrounded by friends that support her, whether in the organization or outside the organization. When got called into an important mission, she then found out that this mission could lead her to her missing memory. One that she thought she wanted to retrieve.

In the third year of my marriage, I endure a full day of painful labor to give birth to my first child. However, my husband steals the baby to give to his true love. I try my damnedest to stop him, but all I get is a barrage of insults. "It's just a baby! I'm the one who planted the seed, so I get to decide who gets the fruit!" I'm overwhelmed by grief as I watch my husband leave. However, he shares a happy post on his social media. "Mother and daughter are safe." His true love comments, "Thank you for giving me a child, Jaspie. I'll be the happiest woman in the world with you two by my side." Clueless friends bless them and wish them well. I silently comment, "Give me back my child." All I get is another round of insults. Then, I'm blocked. I don't want to endure this anymore. I hire a lawyer to draft divorce papers before making a police report. "Officer, I want to report my husband for child trafficking."