Chapter 1

1

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 truth. "Serafina died three years ago. I heard it was complications from some bone marrow procedure. She passed just days after coming home."

Alaric's face twisted with nothing but impatience. "Is she still playing these pathetic games?"

"Tell her this: if she doesn't show up within three days, I'm cutting off every cent of that brat's medical bills."

Alaric planned to use our son's life to force me out of hiding.

But he had no idea.

The child he called a bastard was, in fact, his own flesh and blood.

I watched from the void as he kicked the gate of the small cottage where I used to live.

Three years had changed him. Alaric's eyes were colder and more ruthless than ever.

He was both familiar and a total stranger to me.

He was no longer the struggling entrepreneur I had helped build from nothing. He was now a titan of the business world, a man everyone envied.

I felt a flicker of curiosity.

My son and I have been dead for three years. Why did he suddenly care?

It's true. We've been lingering here as ghosts for three long years.

Our souls were bound to this tiny plot of land. We couldn't leave, and we couldn't move on to what comes next.

Three years ago, Rosalind was diagnosed with leukemia. Alaric forced me to undergo the matching process.

When the results came back, he ignored how weak I was. He dragged me to the hospital and made me give my marrow to her.

The procedure was invasive and brutal.

The hospital staff was incompetent, and my immune system was already failing.

A week after the procedure, a massive infection took hold. I died in a feverish coma on my floor.

Skyler, only three, was left alone. With no one to feed him, he eventually withered away next to me.

In those three years, Alaric never called. He never visited. Not once.

He used to think I was disgusting. He thought I'd slept with clients to get him resources when he was poor.

That was why he believed our son wasn't his.

Now, I held Skyler's tiny, translucent hand. We hovered in the air, watching Alaric kick the door again and again.

Rosalind stood behind him, wearing a designer mask and expensive clothes.

Her cheeks were rosy, and her figure was healthy. She didn't look like someone who was dying.

Skyler flinched at the loud thuds against the gate. He hid his face in my lap.

He looked up with eyes full of both hope and terror.

"Mommy, is Daddy finally here for us? It's been so long."

"But he looks so angry. Did Skyler do something bad?"

I stroked his hair, trying to comfort him. My heart felt like it was being shredded, even though it no longer beat.

"Serafina Sterling! Get out here right now! Stop playing dead!"

Alaric's roar echoed through the yard.

The noise drew out Mrs. Gable, the neighbor from next door.

She stepped out and looked at him. "Young man, who are you looking for? No one has lived here in years."

Alaric straightened his coat. "Serafina Sterling lives here. Did she move?"

Mrs. Gable's eyes dimmed. She sighed heavily. "Serafina? That poor girl died three years ago."

Alaric froze for a split second.

Mrs. Gable continued, "I heard she was forced to donate bone marrow while she was sick. She didn't last a week after she got back. It was a tragedy."

Rosalind's expression shifted. Her face turned pale.

She chimed in with a fake, trembling voice. "Ma'am, please don't say such things. Bone marrow donation is perfectly safe. It doesn't kill people."

"If Serafina didn't want to help me, she could have just said so. She shouldn't curse herself like this. It's bad luck."

She spoke loudly, as if she expected me to be eavesdropping from behind the curtains.

Alaric, who had looked stunned, suddenly relaxed. A sneer touched his lips.

"Is she still acting? If she's going to lie, she should at least make it believable. Tell her to Google if anyone actually dies from giving marrow."

Mrs. Gable didn't understand his cynicism.

She only repeated, "Poor thing was in that house for days before anyone found them…"

Alaric's face turned to stone. He looked at the old woman. "I don't know why you're helping her lie to me."

"But tell her this: she has three days to show up for Rosalind's transplant. If she doesn't, that bastard child of hers won't get another dime for his dialysis."

Mrs. Gable stood there, her mouth hanging open.

She shook her head and turned to walk away.

Alaric shouted after her, "Three days! If I don't see her, she can watch that brat die right in front of her!"

Mrs. Gable's eyes were red as she walked away. She whispered to herself, "That poor child… he's been gone just as long. If only I had checked on them sooner…"