The Dream of a Dying Swan
In the three years I spent unconscious in a hospital bed, Julius Carter took care of me day and night without complaint. The very first thing he did after I woke up was get down on one knee beside my hospital bed and propose.
That night, while scrolling through social media, I came across a female influencer who looked strikingly similar to me.
[Another date with my boyfriend today!]
[He took me to an upscale restaurant for dinner and bought me the diamond ring I wanted. He's the sweetest!]
The top comment read: [You're showing off so much. I bet you're just a sugar baby!]
She fired back immediately with a reply. [Being a sugar baby takes skill, too. Looking like a pig won't get you that kind of treatment.]
[My boyfriend is the heir to the Carter family. Another nonsense from you, and I'll have my lawyer sue you!]
My breathing hitched. Since when did Julius Carter have a girlfriend?
Rage overcame me, and I tapped on her profile, ready to send her a private message. That was when I noticed a post pinned to the top of her page. The photo showed a pair of long, elegant hands placing food onto someone's plate across the table, and on the back of that hand were two small moles. They were the exact same two moles Julius had.
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