There are many expensive houses here in Abelcombe Hill, an enclave on the edge of Wittingham, in the Bidson Valley. Situated on the east side of the Bidson River, about a hundred miles north of New York City. There’s old money here, and new.

Down the long private drive, past a clump of birches, there it sits: the Warren home, on its vast expanse of lawn, presented like a cake on a platter. A glimpse of a swimming pool to the left. Behind is a ravine, and thick trees on either side of the property guarantee privacy. This is prime real estate. I know this place, because this was where I lived.

It’s so still and undisturbed. A weak sun is out, interrupted by scudding clouds. It’s twelve o’clock in the afternoon on Sunday. The place looks occupied. There are cars parked along the road and in the driveway.

With Miriam's connection, she was able to find out the venue of Jeremy and Kyra's wedding. It is happening on the vast expanse of their lawn behind their home. Only friends and family are invited, that's why the wedding is low key.

"Ma'am, we've arrived." My driver says softly, slowing the car to a stop.

"You can stop me here." I respond, carrying my white pulse beside me in the backseat of the Lexus car with white leather interior.

"Whenever you want me to come pick you, please don't hesitate to call or drop me a message." The driver continues.

"Sure. Thank you." I smile, trying to obscure the nervousness on my face.

I open the door and come out, closing it behind me gently. I adjust my white long gown adored with round diamonds around the chest area. I see two women exit their car and glance at her as they make their way through the guards situated at the entrance of the Warren home.

I know no other woman except the bride is supposed to wear white. I don't care about that, considering her husband and best friend's betrayal. I approach the guards at the entrance. A guard raises his hand mid air, stopping me.

"Your invitation." The guard asks.

I open my purse and take out my phone. I show the guard my invitation card. The guard inspects it closely.

"You're welcome, Miss Jane." The guard responds.

I smile a forced smile, "Thank you."

My heels click against the cobblestone path. My former home looms before me. I keep my head high, confident in my new face to shield me. Passing through the grand archway, I emerged in the backyard. Rows of white chairs lined up to the altar draped in floral arrangements.

My breath catches. There he is. The love of my life. The man I gave my body and soul to, Jeremy. He stands at the altar. His tailored black suit fits him. He glances at me, his blue eyes barely maintaining a gaze on me before looking somewhere else. His black hair was gelled and combed backwards, highlighting his sharp jaw line.

I quickly scan the gathered crowd. About twenty guests, all dressed impeccably, chatting in low voices. I slid into an empty chair at the back, my heart pounding against my ribcage.

I stared at Jeremy's face in particular. His jaw is tightened in a familiar way she'd learned to read in their years married together. He was nervous. I narrow my eyes suspiciously at him, wondering what could be making him anxious. Then the music cues in. A soft melody plays. The guests look behind them, I do so and there she is. My best friend.

She grins radiantly in her pearl white wedding dress. Her eyes are locked on Jeremy. I feel my stomach twist painfully. All the shared secrets and promises Jeremy and I whispered, gone just like that. Now to be replaced by Kyra. I grip the sides of my chair watching my best friend and my former husband, now at the altar, together.

My chest tightens as Kyra reaches out Jeremy, slipping her hands into his. The music reduces in tempo. The priest clears his throat before he begins, "We are gathered here today to join Jeremy Warren and Kyra Stone in holy matrimony."

I could barely concentrate on the priest's word and turn my gaze to the front seats and see my former mother in law, Beatrice.

I adjust myself on the seat, scooting a bit front to have a clearer view of Beatrice. She is seated stiffly in her chair with her hands clasped in her lap. Her lips are pressed into a thin line. Her eyes held no sign of happiness for the couple in her front.

"Now, if the bride and groom will please hold hands." The priest says.

During my wedding, Beatrice's eyes showed joy and kindness. She pecked me on my cheeks after the vows. She even dapped the tears streaking down her eyes when the priest began reciting the vows. I am seeing none of that today. That only means one thing. Beatrice disapproves of Jeremy and Kyra's wedding.

I watch Jeremy take Kyra's hands with no smile on his lips. Kyra's grin widens. I draw a deep shaky breath as Jeremy recites his vow after the priest, trying to calm myself. The priest reaches the end of the vows and faces the guests.

"If anyone has just cause why this man and this woman should not be joined in matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace." The priest asks.

Silence falls over the crowd. My hands tremble in my lap. My heart pounds, because this is the opportunity I have been waiting. The first stage in her plans for revenge. I open my mouth to speak, but Beatrice rises on her feet.

"I object." Beatrice states firmly. Her voice sounding loudly.

Gasps erupts through the guests, heads turning to face Beatrice. Even Jeremy and Kyra look shocked.

"I won't let you marry Kyra. I refuse to believe that Nelly is dead." Beatrice says, her voice shaky.

I feel cold shivers run down my spine.

I didn't expect Beatrice would speak out against Jeremy and Kyra. I sit forward, still maintaining my composure. Jeremy's jaw tightens, his face a mix of pity and anguish.

"Mom, please." Jeremy says, his voice strained.

"Nelly is dead. You have to come with terms to it." Kyra says softly.

" I refuse to believe it." The discontent in Beatrice's voice is strong.

Kyra shoots a helping look at a family friend, Vivian. She nods, as if acknowledging Kyra's unspoken words. She quickly get up, hurrying to Beatrice. She places a gently hand on her shoulder, "Come on, Beatrice. Let's go somewhere quiet for a moment."

Beatrice breathes shakily. She tries resisting, her eyes pleading with Jeremy. However, Vivian coaxes her down the aisle, into the mansion through the back door.

She lets herself be escorted out by the blond woman. I narrow my eyes at the both of them as they enter the mansion.

"I apologize about my mother. Her health hasn't been well lately. The death of my first wife, Nelly, took a toll on her." Jeremy says, his deep voice dripping with sadness.

I feel my heart ache for my former mother in law. Beatrice always showered me with love and care since I started dating Jeremy, and until he married me. There was never a time they had a misunderstanding. I lost my parents at a young age due to an accident. Beatrice became like a mother to me. It hurts to see how her death has affected Beatrice.

The priest clears his throat. Then he speaks sympathetically, "Shall we continue?'

Jeremy turns to Kyra and smiles. The priest begins. The ceremony moves forward and soon the priest speaks, "You may now kiss the bride."

I stand abruptly, my face pale and fists clenched. I can't bear to watch Jeremy and Kyra kiss. I turn and swiftly walk out. I enter the mansion through the back door, hopefully with no one trying to stop me.

I slip in the living room unnoticed. The house is grand with polished, glossy white marble floor beneath an elaborate, tiered chandelier in the entryway, fresh flowers on a side table. Just how it was the last time I was here. I find Beatrice sitting alone on the couch. Her face is buried in her hands as she sobs silently. The sight breaks my heart. I have never seen Beatrice cry. It hurts so much and it's like watching her mother cry.

"Mrs. Beatrice," I say carefully while approaching her.

Beatrice looks up, her slightly reddened eyes wide with surprise. She quickly wipes the tears on her cheeks. "I'm sorry, but who are you?"

My lips hang open. I hadn't thought of this before calling for her. I smile a forced smile.

"I'm Jane, Nelly's friend." I answer carefully.

Beatrice nods, a small smile creeps on her lips, "Jane, you're welcome. Please sit."

I sit next to Beatrice and lay a gently hand on her back, stroking it carefully.

"I'm really sorry you're seeing me like this." Beatrice sniffs.

"No, please. Don't apologize. It's normal to feel this way." I say encouragingly, "You were very close to Nelly. I can understand how you feel."

"I thought I could handle it, but... seeing him with her. It's not just right." Beatrice says, her voice cracking.

"Everything is going to be fine. Nelly wouldn't want to see you like this. She would be heartbroken." I say, hoping that Beatrice calms down.

Beatrice swallows hard, "I don't want to believe Nelly is dead. I can never forgive myself for what I did."

I narrow my eyes at Beatrice. She does not understand where the statement is coming from.

Beatrice stands up, trying to smile, but her eyes still look sad, "I'm sorry. I don't know what I'm saying. I shouldn't take your time anymore."

I slowly stand on my feet, "It's not a problem."

I open my purse and take out a small jotter and pen. I tear out a piece of paper from the jotter and write down my mobile number.

I extend the paper to Beatrice, "Please call me whenever you feel like talking. Nelly said a lot about you and how you were like a mother to her."

Beatrice musters a brave smile, though a tear streaks down her cheek, "I don't want to disturb you."

"Please, I insist." I state firmly, hoping Beatrice takes the paper.

"Thank you, Jane." Beatrice takes the paper. She freezes, her eyes on my palm. I quickly take it away, hiding my hand behind my purse. Beatrice looks up at me, her eyes casting a suspicious look. I smile, trying to hide my nervousness, though I don't know why Beatrice was looking at my hand.

She looks at my mobile number and back at me. "I'll call you soon. Thank you."

"I'll be expecting your call." I respond, "Please take care of yourself, mom."

I inhale sharply as I realized I called Beatrice mom. Beatrice's lips hang open.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. You just remind me of my mom." I say quickly.

Beatrice smiles, nods, "I understand."

"Goodbye." I say before walking away. I intended to ruin Jeremy and Kyra's wedding by claiming Jeremy had an affair with me. I would spill believable facts because I was his wife after all. That would have been my first plan of revenge, but I couldn't do it.

I walk out of the mansion, heading to the gates. I have to find another way to begin my revenge. I halt abruptly when I realize I could start by creating partnership between myself and the Warren Enterprise, owned by Jeremy. I smirk as the plan continues to make more sense. My shares are in the company. I can quickly draft out a contract handing my shares to Jane with my signature on it and it would look authentic.

I take a step towards the gate.

"Stop right there!" A familiar voice sounds.

I turn around and see Beatrice heading towards me with a stern expression.

"You're Nelly, right?" Beatrice states firmly.

I stare at Beatrice, eyes wide open and my lips hanging open.

"Don't look at me like I'm crazy. You are Nelly, right?" Beatrice states more firmly, her voice rising higher. I glance behind me to find the bodyguards suspiciously looking at me and Beatrice.

Beatrice looks at the bodyguards and then back at me. She grabs my hand, "If you don't want to talk here, fine. Let's talk somewhere private."

I barely have time to react before Beatrice grabs my wrist and drags me inside the mansion. I am pulled inside the living room, then Beatrice lets go of me.

"Jane," Beatrice says, her voice trembling, "Are you Nelly?"

My heart races as I think of a response quickly, "What? Of course not. Why would you even think that?" I respond, trying to make my voice sound steady.

Beatrice narrows her eyes at me as if reading me before she points at my hand, "Then what is that?" She asks, her voice firm.

I freeze, clench my left hand instinctively. I hide my hand from her view. Beatrice had seen my scar on my hand when I gave her my mobile number. That's why she stared at my hand for a while

Beatrice steps closer, "I've seen that mark before," She says. "Nelly had that scar on her palm from the car accident with her parents. Exactly the same scar at the exact place."

Beatrice shoots her hand forward, grabbing my wrist before I can pull away. Beatrice's grip tightens on my wrist as she brings it to our view. There it is, a crescent-shaped pink scar on my palm. Beatrice's breath catches in her throat.

"No matter what other people think of me. I've not lost my mind. I'm still sane." Beatrice draws a deep breath before she continues, "I can never believe Nelly is dead. I didn't want to believe it. Now this proves that she is alive."

Beatrice looks eyes with me, "This was Nelly's mark. No one else has it. Tell me the truth, Jane. Please. Are you Nelly?"

The familiarity of the living room seems to close in around me as memories flood back. The warm hugs from Beatrice. The laughter we shared. Beatrice has brought it all back with a single glance. My resolve crumbles and I sink into the couch behind me. I stare at the floor.

"Yes. It's me. I'm Nelly." I say, my voice barely a whisper. I can't bear to torture Beatrice anymore.

Beatrice lets out a choked sob, covering her mouth with her hand. Beatrice walks over and sits beside me. "Why, Nelly? Why did you leave? Why did you let us think you were dead?"

I look at Beatrice at my side, my eyes brimming with tears, "Because I had to. I didn't have a choice if I was going to find out who really killed your husband, Jeremy's father."

Beatrice sighs heavily. She buries her face in her hands and shakes her head, "It wasn't supposed to be like this."

"Please, you have to believe me, Beatrice. I didn't kill your husband." I say, my voice quivering.

Beatrice pulls me in an embrace, then gently strokes my back, "I believe you, Nelly. I know you didn't kill my husband, that's why I called Jane to help you."

My breath hitches in my throat. Beatrice called Jane to my rescue when I was being taken to the police station. The room instantly falls silent. Beatrice pulls away from the hug and looks at me intently, "Jane? Why do you call yourself Jane?" Beatrice asks suspiciously.

"You called the lawyer. You called Jane to help me?" I ask, shocked.

Beatrice nods. "I did. I got her number from one of my friends. They said she's really good in her job. Nelly, why are you using Jane's identity?"

I sniff, wiping the tears off my cheeks, "The accident that happened ended Jane's life, and the explosion destroyed my face. Jane's mother, following Jane's last wish with the help of a doctor, saved me by implanting Jane's face on mine."

Beatrice looks at me, her lips wide open as she listens to my story, "Then the police were shown Jane's body and they believed I died in the accident."

Beatrice grips my hands tightly, "I'm really sorry about Jane and her mother, but I'm so happy you're alive."

I nod, my heart heavy with guilt and relief. Beatrice snaps her fingers, "We should tell Jeremy the truth."

My face hardens. Despite what Beatrice knows, I'm here for my revenge against Jeremy and Kyra for betraying me. Beatrice sees how tense I look and her face softens, "Nelly, what's the matter? Jeremy deserves to know the truth."

"I wasn't even dead for more than three months and he's already getting married to Kyra, and he deserves to know the truth?" I snap.

I cross my arms and look away, "He betrayed me therefore I don't have sympathy for him."

Beatrice rests an empathetic hand on my lap, "No, Nelly. Please don't talk like this."

I get on my feet and stare intently at Beatrice, "Why shouldn't I? When I was taken away by the police, Jeremy didn't even believe me. I begged for him but he did nothing. He doesn't love me anymore. I don't love him."

Beatrice gets on her feet. She grips the side of her blue gown tightly, "What do you intend to do as you're back?"

I draw a deep shaky breath, "I don't want to hurt you, Beatrice, but I don't have a choice."

Beatrice steps close to me and takes my hands in hers, "You always have a choice, Nelly. I understand how you feel, but it's not the right thing to do. Please, reconsider."

I pull my hands away from her grasp, "No. I will make them pay for what they did to me."

"Nelly, please. We can find another way to handle this." Beatrice begs.

"I'm sorry, mother." I apologize. I turn to leave and see Jeremy standing in a corridor leading into the living room. He stares intently at me. I draw a sharp breath, stunned.