Reborn Bride, No Longer Your Victim

On the eve of my wedding, a photo of my fiancé with an intern sent me fleeing to Paris.

But when the plane landed, five years had passed.

My parents were dead, killed in a car crash while searching for me. My fiancé, Clayton, was now married to that same intern. She was pregnant and living in our home.

He treated me like a deranged stranger, and when she faked a fall down the stairs, he blamed me. He locked me in a dark panic room-my greatest fear-to punish me.

There, in the suffocating darkness, I lost our baby.

He thought I was just acting for attention.

But a return ticket brought me back. I've woken up on my wedding day. My parents are alive. This time, I'm not running.