My mother-in-law, Teresa Hawke, said she was trapped inside her burning villa.

I called my husband, Asher Jensen, begging him to save her. But he was too busy at some bar, flirting with his childhood sweetheart, Melanie Lanner.

It wasn't until I begged him, over and over, that he finally went to save Teresa. But Melanie was snatched from that same bar, tortured, killed, and dumped.

He acted like none of it mattered until I got pregnant. Then out of nowhere, he threw it all back on me, saying it was my fault.

Asher pulled every string he could to bankrupt my family, driving Mom and Dad to leap to their deaths. Then he rounded up a gang of violent psychopaths and threw me in with them.

I begged again and again, but he just watched me with that dead stare.

"You'll suffer like Mel did before she died! She left this world in agony. Why should you get to live? That's not fair."

99 stab wounds—that was how many it took before I finally bled out and died.

And then, I woke up, right back on the day Teresa screamed for help from inside that burning villa.

The pain crashed into me like a tidal wave. I felt hollow, like the wounds had torn right through me, leaving nothing but air.

Instinctively, I clutched my stomach, and somehow, everything around me sharpened. A low buzzing filled my ears.

It was my phone, rattling violently against the table. Teresa Hawke's name flashed on the screen.

I was back, reborn into the very day she'd screamed for help. I picked up, and the same words from my past life came rushing back.

"Val, the house is on fire! I'm trapped! You have to come now—"

The line went dead before Teresa could finish.

All I got from Asher Jensen was that same sneer.

"Knock it off. Leave my mom out of whatever game you're playing. Seriously, what did you say to mess with her head like that? Today's a big day for Mel. She finally learned to ride a bike. I'm heading out, so don't stir up any drama while I'm gone."

To everyone else, my marriage to Asher looked like a perfect match, like something out of a fairy tale. I thought so too, at first.

But once the vows were said, his coldness made it obvious that marrying me was just a move to keep his family happy. His heart had always belonged to Melanie Lanner.

I grew up believing in the promise of marriage. Even though Asher never paid me any attention, Teresa was always kind to me.

That was why, in my past life, when I got that call from her, I kept begging him, over and over, to save her. Thankfully, he made it in time. She got away with just a few scrapes.

But Melanie was taken from the bar, tortured, killed, and dumped. And he put all the blame on me.

Now that I was reborn, I was giving him the choice.

Asher was fixing his tie in the mirror.

I caught his eye in the reflection. "Teresa didn't sound right on the phone. You should go check on her."

He gave an impatient frown. "I always thought you were the sensible one. Now you're siding with my mom in this whole mess?"

I kept my voice even. "No one would fake a fire—"

Before I could finish, Asher knocked the glass figurine off the entryway table. It hit the floor and shattered.

I looked up at him, and for a split second, his reflection in the mirror twisted into a face from my past life—the same one that had watched from behind the bars while madmen drove their knives into me 99 times.

It was that same cold, menacing expression I'd seen before.

I stayed quiet as Asher opened the door and walked out. The second he was gone, I called 911, then got ready to drive to Teresa myself.

Asher was hardly ever home, so Teresa and I ended up staying together under one roof. The villa was tucked away in a remote area.

Teresa had sent me off, hoping to create an opportunity for Asher and me to reconnect. But then she accidentally locked herself in the attic, right as a fire broke out downstairs.

I was just about to unlock the car when a hand suddenly reached past me and yanked the door open. It was Oliver Traynor, Asher's childhood friend.

"Hey, Asher knew my car couldn't be on the road, so he let me borrow this one. Appreciate you coming all the way down to open it for me, Valerie," he said with a smug grin.

I didn't bother hiding my irritation. "Something urgent came up at home. I need the car. Move."

But Oliver didn't budge. He leaned against the door, blocking my way.

"Valerie, you and Asher can fight all you want, but dragging your family into it? That's crossing a line. I get that you want to go after him, but I'm telling you—nothing's going on between Mel and Asher.

"You two are married. What could possibly be going on? Just look the other way. Making a big deal out of this helps no one."

I let out a disbelieving laugh.

Asher sent Oliver to get in my way, worried I'd ruin his fun. But every minute Oliver kept me here was another minute Teresa was in danger.

I arched a brow, a smirk tugging at my lips.

"Oliver, I've spelled it out for you. If you're really doing this for Asher, I hope you're prepared to clean up the fallout."

He didn't call my bluff. After a beat, he sank into the back seat with a heavy thud.

"Fine, Valerie, you win. I never thought you had the guts to go this far, let alone file a fake police report. But when it all blows up in your face, don't count on Asher to bail you out. I'll be in the back seat, watching where it all goes from here."

I rolled my eyes and tuned Oliver out, hands already on the wheel.

"You're really Asher's loyal little lapdog, huh?"

In the rearview mirror, I caught him muttering something under his breath, probably not anything nice.

Then Teresa called again.

"Val, my legs are stuck under the cabinet. I can't move. You need to get back here now."

"Teresa, Ash's not with me, but I'm on my way. Just hang in there. Help's coming."

Teresa's voice crackled in and out before the line went dead. The signal was barely hanging on.

I'd already called the fire department. They said it'd be at least 15 more minutes before they could get to the mountain.

Teresa had sounded so faint just now. That thought alone made me slam harder on the gas.

In the back seat, Oliver finally noticed we weren't heading toward the city. All the color drained from his face. His voice shook.

"Asher said you and Teresa are always pulling this guilt-tripping act. Today's Mel's big day, so he told me to stop you, no matter what, from messing it up. But is Teresa actually in trouble?"

I didn't even look at him. I grabbed my phone and called Asher's uncle, Eric Hawke. The line kept ringing until, at last, he picked up, his voice thick with booze.

"Eric, Teresa's house is on fire. She's trapped under a cabinet and can't move. The firefighters are still ten minutes out. You're the closest one there. Can you try to reach her first?"

"N-No problem. I-I'll go get her," Eric slurred, and somewhere in the background came the clatter of things crashing to the floor.

Could he even stand in that condition? He said he'd help, but the pit in my stomach wouldn't go away.

I shot a glance at Oliver in the rearview mirror.

"Call Asher. You heard everything."

He gave a quick nod and reached for his phone. The line was busy. He tried again and again, but still couldn't get through. Just as he was about to give up, Eric called back, still sounding drunk.

"Val, has Teresa ever been anything but kind to you? I don't get how you could say something like that about her. She really must've coddled you. I wouldn't even know any of this if I hadn't heard it from Ash."

I took a deep breath, hands clenching tighter around the wheel.

No wonder Oliver couldn't get through to Eric. Asher was busy "laying it all out" for Eric.

"Eric, why would I lie about something like this? Teresa's trapped in the attic back home—"

He cut me off with that tone people used when they were sure they had everything figured out.

"Val, we get it. This has been hard for you. But the truth is, Ash's not in love with you. His heart's with Mel. Listen, just let it go. He's a man. He needs space.

"That's the only way he might come back to you. I know you mean well, I really do. Just don't do this. Please..."

Eric's voice faded into a mumble, then disappeared altogether. I yelled into the phone, but all I got back was the sound of snoring.

I turned and snapped, "Still no luck with Asher?"

Oliver shook his head frantically.

Teresa wasn't answering either.

My stomach dropped. We were out of time.

Oliver finally got through to Asher, only to hear Melanie's voice instead.

"Oliver, what's taking you so long to stop Valerie? Don't tell me you got lost," she teased, her syrupy laugh curling through the line. "Everyone's waiting, you know."

"Put Asher on, Melanie. Something might've happened with his family," Oliver said quickly.

Melanie scoffed.

"Oh, come on. Not you too. How much did Valerie pay you? I'll have Ash double it."

Oliver's voice shook with urgency. "Quit screwing around. Put Asher on."

There was a pause. Then Asher picked up.

"Oliver, did Valerie get in your head, too? Now you're part of her little circus? Knock it off and get back here. Mel's waiting for you."

He hung up. The sharp tone of disconnection buzzed in the silence.

Oliver lifted his eyes to me, his face drawn with worry.

I gave a dry smile, then hit the gas, tearing down the road toward the villa. The rest of the drive was wrapped in tense silence.

Flames were already tearing through the villa by the time we got there. Firefighters were already on the scene, ladders raised, high-pressure hoses spraying powerful jets of water.

I sprinted forward and grabbed the arm of the firefighter in charge. "Please! My mother-in-law's still up there in the attic!"

"We've got it under control! But you need to get back! This area's not safe!" he shouted, steering Oliver and me back behind the tape.

I waited by the ambulance, heart pounding.

A short while later, the firefighters brought Teresa out on a stretcher and loaded her into the back of the ambulance.

In my previous life, she'd walked away with just a few scrapes. But this time, she was burned so badly her body was barely recognizable—her skin charred and torn, her face a warped mask of blood and ash.

When she spotted me, she tried to speak, her mouth straining open, but all that came out were hoarse, broken sounds. Her eyes flicked past me again and again, like she was searching for someone.

"Teresa, hang in there. We're almost at the hospital. Ash is right behind us. I'm calling him now!"

He still wasn't picking up. I tried again, but his phone was off.

A flash of despair flickered in Teresa's eyes. Worried she wouldn't make it, I opened WhatsApp and fired off a message to Asher.

"Look, Teresa. I told him. He's on his way. Just hang on, okay?"

She gave the slightest shake of her head, then lifted her hand with effort, barely pointing toward her pocket.

I reached into her pocket and pulled out a neatly folded sheet of white paper. It was her will.

In black and white, it said she was leaving me everything—every share, every asset she had once held with my late father-in-law, Roger Jensen. Everything, except for one property that would go to Asher.

Every detail was there—names, dates, signatures.

Teresa's throat rattled again. I quickly leaned in. Her voice came in ragged gasps, but I caught every word.

"Keep… Keep it safe, sweetheart… Th… Thank you…"

Tears streamed down my cheeks. I wasn't like Asher. I couldn't just stand there and watch someone die without feeling a thing.

I kept texting him, again and again. But the moment I sent him the photo of Teresa's injuries, I realized he'd blocked me.

When I turned around, the last bit of light had faded from Teresa's eyes.

…

I sank onto the bench outside the emergency room, hands shaking uncontrollably. My eyes stayed fixed on the harsh red light above the doors.

I had no idea how long it had been before it finally flickered off.

I hurried over. "Doctor, how's my mother-in-law?"

He gave a slow shake of his head. "Her injuries were just too severe. The burns covered most of her body, and at her age... I'm sorry. She didn't make it."

Teresa now lay still in the morgue. She'd always taken pride in her appearance, pouring a large fortune into skincare and cosmetic treatments. Now, her face was barely recognizable, disfigured by burns.

I made arrangements with the best funeral home I could find and sent word to family and friends.

Asher finally showed up. He grabbed me by the neck and slammed me against the wall, seething.

"What the hell, Valerie? Are you wishing death on my mom now? How could you even say that? Are you human?"

I peeled his fingers off one by one and pointed toward the morgue behind me, my voice cold and low.

"Go see for yourself."

He stormed past me and ripped the white sheet back.

Teresa lay still, eyes shut, her body a patchwork of wounds, and only a whisper of her former beauty remained.

Asher's legs gave out beneath him, and he crumpled to the floor.