The Man Who Faked His Own Death

the nothingness inside me. The beeping of a machine next to my bed was a steady rhythm counting the seconds

rlett, a nurse, a wife.

remembered the ceiling groaning, the roar of the flames eating our home, and

behind you, S

nd, he gave his to save mine. The fire department told me he went back

ysical weight, crushing my chest, making it hard to breathe. Our future, the ch

lives, I decided to join him. I couldn' t bear the silence. I couldn' t bear the thought of wak

eone fo

? Can you

encies, and my silence had been the emergency. He had broken down the door, found me on t

lway, talking to the doctors, his brow furro

water on the bedside table was empty. I slowly, painfully, swung my legs over the

As I reached the doorway, I heard voices from down the hall, near the nurses' station. One was familiar,

ssible. It

the wall, hiding in the shadow

ow. "I still can't believe you pulled it off. A hero's funeral, the w

the voice I longed to hear one last ti

records were switched, get the right uniform on t

as R

mouth to stifle a sob. The world tilted on its axi

an. All to get out of a marriage?" Mark asked. "Sc

y breath, my enti

She's resilient." He said it like he was discussing a character in a book, not the woman who had shared his bed, his life. "This was ne

I had comforted, held, and cried wit

death, curdled in an instant. It turned into something else, something hot and sha

m a fire; he had thrown me into one, just to run away with another wom

collapsed onto the bed, the beeping of the machine now a mocking

grief, I made a new decision. The old Scarlett, the one who loved Ryan with every fiber of

nd she would not be his victim. She wo

going to erase every last tra