Tragic Short

Twice in One Life follows the story of Celine Hayes, a once-powerful businesswoman whose life is cut short by a betrayal orchestrated by the people closest to her. A year after her death, Celine returns as a ghost, unable to move on until she finds justice. She crosses paths with Ònààrà, a modern-day shaman, and discovers Evelyn, a woman who unknowingly serves as the perfect vessel for Celine’s spirit. With Ònààrà’s reluctant help, Celine possesses Evelyn and begins to piece together the events that led to her murder. She returns to the life she left behind, re-entering the world under the guise of Evelyn, and plans to marry her former fiancé, Darren. But as truths begin to unravel, Celine learns of Darren’s inappropriate relationship with his sister and the deep-rooted hatred that led to her death. As her connection to Evelyn begins to blur, and her desire for revenge intensifies, Celine is faced with a painful reality: to find peace, she may have to sacrifice the last shred of her humanity or risk dragging another innocent soul into her tragic fate.

It was our tenth anniversary, and I thought Joseph Lynch was finally going to propose to me. However, I accidentally saw the texts on his phone and realized what a joke I had been these past ten years. [It’s our first anniversary. Darling, I want you to spend time with me.] That woman uttered such sweet and intimate words, which I rarely said to Joseph. [I’ll give her some sleeping pills before I see you.] I could not believe Joseph would say such a thing. My fingers trembled as I scrolled down their conversation. [Don’t marry her. Marry me instead!] Then, she sent him a cute and attractive photo of her. She looked like a student. [Let’s see how you behave tonight. I bought you some new lingerie. Be good and put them on. Wait for me next door.] I was wearing some ill-fitting undies while sitting in bed. Right then, I was filled with bitterness. It turned out that Joseph had bought these undies for someone else.

I’m suffering from postpartum depression, and my mate is cheating on me with my therapist. This is the most disgusting betrayal in the world! ... "You’re too anxious.” My therapist, Ivy, suggested. “You need to learn to let go of family responsibilities. Why don’t you take a weekend trip to relax.” "A weekend trip?! But my baby’s nanny is on leave this weekend.I need to take care of her. " "Uhmm...I can take care of your child," she said. “Are you sure?!” I asked in surprise. “Yeah, Yeah.” A year ago, I was diagnosed with postpartum depression. My mate, Blake, the Alpha of the Shadowbite pack, found me a kind and beautiful therapist, Ivy. Following Ivy’s advice, I took a solo two-day trip to clear my head. But when I returned, I was horrified to find a large bump on my baby’s forehead. I checked the security footage, and what I saw left me speechless: While my baby was left outside the room, playing alone, Ivy and Blake were inside for an hour. She looked satisfied, and two buttons on her shirt were also missing.

I was Lonnie Vaughn's fiancée, yet he treated me with disdain, looking at me as though I was nothing more than a bothersome obligation. To outsiders, I was just a caged songbird he kept for amusement—disposable when he tired of me. I refused to believe it. In my eyes, Lonnie loved me, too; he was just terrible at expressing it. But that illusion shattered when I became the victim of face-swapping. When those filthy videos were played in front of Lonnie, he refused to listen to my desperate explanations. When I was kidnapped, he refused to pay the ransom. All because his maid sneered, "Olivia's tainted. She needs to be taught a lesson." Lonnie responded, "I never want to see you again in this lifetime." Those words fueled the captors' cruelty. For three months, they tortured me. By the end, I truly was tainted, and my love for Lonnie was buried beneath layers of ash and despair. Then Lonnie appeared before me while sobbing in regret, begging me to love him again.

I've been married to Shawn Ford for three years, and he's humiliated and insulted me throughout. When he's with his friend, he brags, "The woman my Uncle Cameron can't have is licking my boots. I want to laugh whenever I see her sucking up to me." It wouldn't ever occur to him that I'm frequently in his uncle's bed, covered in hickeys and love bites he leaves on my body.

To cure our daughter's pancreatic cancer, I made a deal with the System, trading the rest of my life for a miracle drug. My husband called me insane to my face, but secretly gave the medicine to his mistress to treat her facial scar. When I was falling apart in despair, he had the audacity to explain: "Vicky has dreams of becoming a star. She's already 24, she can't wait any longer. "Besides, didn't you get that drug by sleeping around? How could a housewife like you possibly get such high-end medicine on your own? If you want to save our daughter, why don't you go whore yourself out again? It's not like it'll kill you, right?" But the truth is, I really don't have another life to trade for another dose.

I had been in a relationship with Zachary Dawson for seven years and engaged for three when, out of the blue, Ruby White, the daughter of his mentor, moved into our home. Sitting casually on the bed that Zachary and I shared, Ruby lounged with an air of nonchalance, her voice playful and teasing. "Zachary, the dental god, sure has a nice bed," she remarked with a smirk. "I can only imagine what it would be like to spend the night with him in this bed." I captured the scene on my phone and sent the video to our family group chat with a brief message: Looks like Zachary might have a new girlfriend Zachary rushed home, wrapping his arms protectively around a tearful Ruby. He pointed at me, his voice seething with anger. "My mentor's dying wish was for me to take care of Ruby! If you can't accept that, then move out!" Honestly, my brows furrowed deeper than the wrinkles on the bedsheets Ruby had sat on. Fine. I didn't need the bed, and I didn't need a fiancé anymore.

The year I loved Channing Waltz the most, he shattered my hopes. I remember, as I was hauled into the restroom, beaten mercilessly by strangers, there he stood, grinning like the sun itself. His face beamed with a brightness that made my heart sink. The burns from his childhood friend's curling iron marred my skin, leaving a trail of scars, and all the while, he took out his phone, snapping pictures of me in my undressed humiliation and posting them online for the world to mock. I cried, begged him to spare me, but he only laughed coldly, his voice as sharp as a blade. "You haven't even begun to suffer what my sister went through. What's the hurry?" That was when the truth hit me like a lightning strike. He had come to me, drawn me in with warmth, with affection, pretending to care—when all along, it was merely a means to an end. He had used me to set the stage to avenge his sister.

Three years into our marriage, Chris Davis doted on me deeply. But I accidentally discovered that he had been cheating on me for two years. In front of that woman, everything he said showed his disdain towards me. "Who would marry a cripple?" "She's like a dead fish in bed." "She's just a deaf person who makes me want to throw up now." Later, I took the initiative to file for divorce. But he went crazy. Kneeling in front of me, every word was filled with regret...

I'm attacked after the murderer who took my sister's life is released from prison. He pins me to the forest floor, allowing me to scream and shout until I run out of strength. As the fireworks explode above me, blood pools around me. Two months later, my husband becomes his next victim. I burst into manic laughter when I see the torment he has to suffer.