/1/106756/coverorgin.jpg?v=97365198d2e42e4794a57a69368cfbf7&imageMogr2/format/webp)
I' m already dead. My spirit floated, watching my own fiancé, Ryan Sterling, marry my adoptive sister, Olivia Reed. It was a perfect wedding, the kind every girl dreams of, but it should have been mine.
Then, a delivery man walked in, holding a simple, unadorned box. "A delivery for Mr. Sterling," he said. "A wedding gift from Ava Miller." My name hung in the air, a foul smell. The room went silent.
/0/86162/coverorgin.jpg?v=91c8fc6601d32a0376eeef199d20540b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/59431/coverorgin.jpg?v=0d891150060f0f234453f823a3c39fb5&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/93003/coverorgin.jpg?v=fb1b4c7121d643793bc9db2ddd1343ca&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/13642/coverorgin.jpg?v=d7d0a407b1384a337fc6ac03dff17676&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/84216/coverorgin.jpg?v=a038e48bdb82dbadfcc210bd62752392&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/13641/coverorgin.jpg?v=5f51669bb179253ac64485af6548daf2&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/23253/coverorgin.jpg?v=ff7ab1a9de9303ddaa64c1805bde34ba&imageMogr2/format/webp)