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.