My Husband Faked His Death for Love, and I Went with It
My husband, Hank, is dead. 
On our wedding anniversary, he ventured out in the pouring rain to buy me a cake, only to be hit by a truck. His body was badly mangled in the crash. 
My sister-in-law, Lyra, called me a killer, claiming that I did not deserve Hank’s inheritance. 
My mother-in-law, Judy, kicked me out of the house. 
Overwhelmed by grief and guilt, I often wondered if he would still be alive had I stopped him that day. Eventually, emotions gripped me, and I was diagnosed with cancer. 
Judy came to visit me on my deathbed. “You’re an idiot to believe everything!” 
She threw a family photo in my face. 
The shock and anger were more than I could handle, and I breathed my last. 
It turned out that Hank was never dead. He had a child with his old flame. 
When I opened my eyes once more, I returned to the day my husband faked his death.