Chapter 1

It was the kind of money that changes lives, multi-millions from a cheap scratch-off ticket I bought on a whim.

My name is Sarah Miller, or it was.

In what I now call my first life, that money painted a target on my back, put there by the people I trusted most.

My husband, Mark Johnson, his mother Brenda, and his sister Jessica.

They were my family.

Or so I thought.

The Memorial Day weekend was supposed to be a celebration, a road trip to the Blue Ridge Mountains.

Mark drove, Brenda hummed in the passenger seat, Jessica scrolled on her phone in the back, next to me.

The air in the car was thick with something I couldn't name then, something cold under their forced smiles.

They took me to a scenic overlook, the view breathtaking, the drop terrifying.

Mark pulled me close, his arm around my waist, a gesture that once meant love.

"Look at that, Sarah," he'd said, his voice too smooth.

Then he pushed.

I remember the air rushing past, the brief, sharp pain, then nothing.

My spirit, or whatever it was, didn't leave.

I floated, unseen, unheard.

I watched them, my murderers.

Mark, Brenda, Jessica.

They didn't even pretend to look for me.

No, they walked back to the car, their faces calm, almost relieved.

Later, from the motel room they'd booked, I heard their laughter.

"The ticket's still in her purse, right?" Brenda asked, her voice greedy.

"Untouched," Mark confirmed, "She was going to cash it Tuesday."

Jessica giggled, "Good thing we saved her the trouble. Think of the shopping!"

They toasted with cheap champagne, celebrating my death, my money.

But the worst part, the part that carved itself into my soul, was Leo.

My son, Leo. Five years old. The boy I raised, loved, tucked into bed every night.

I saw him a few days later, back at our house, a house that was no longer mine.

He was playing in the yard. A woman I didn't recognize walked out. Tiffany.

Leo ran to her, "Mommy!"

He hugged her, and she swung him around. Mark came out, kissed Tiffany, put his arm around her.

A perfect family.

My Leo, calling another woman "Mom."

The realization hit me harder than the rocks at the bottom of that cliff.

Leo was never mine. He was theirs. Mark's and Tiffany's.

My whole life, a lie. My love, a tool for their deception.

The pain of that betrayal was a fire, consuming everything.

I wanted them to suffer, to feel what I felt.

And then, darkness.