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.