Three Years Dead, He Calls My Name

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My son and I are both dead.

I died of a systemic infection after my husband forced me to donate bone marrow to his ex-girlfriend while I was battling a severe illness.

My three-year-old son, Skyler, was left with no one to care for him. He starved to death right beside my rotting corpse.

Three years passed before Alaric Blackwood finally remembered us. He only did so because his precious ex, Rosalind, needed another bone marrow transplant.

He didn't expect my old neighbor to tell him the