In my past life, my husband, Caleb, supposedly drowned at a yacht party on Lake Tahoe. His body was never found.

By the time I rushed to the marina, all that awaited me was a death notice from the police and the vast, black expanse of the lake.

My world shattered. I fell gravely ill, a sickness that ravaged both body and soul, and I never recovered.

On my deathbed, I was scrolling through my best friend Olivia's social media when I saw a vacation photo from the Bahamas. In the background, on a man's wrist, was the one-of-a-kind watch I’d had custom-made for Caleb.

The shock was the final blow. It killed me.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day I received the call about my husband's death.

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1

"Chloe, you have to hold it together. Caleb may be gone, but you still have me. As your best friend, I will always be here for you."

From the moment I appeared in the private hospital room, Olivia Reed clung to me, her words a constant, soothing stream.

I gazed down at my own hands, my own feet, and realized—I had been given a second chance. I was sent back to the day my husband, Caleb Miller, had "died."

In my last life, I was in my studio, poring over design blueprints, when the news of Caleb's drowning at Lake Tahoe reached me. By the time I arrived at the marina, the search and rescue team claimed the strong currents had swept his body away.

Weeks of endless grief hollowed me out, body and soul. I eventually collapsed, overcome by a wracking cough and a broken heart. From that day on, I was bedridden.

To make matters worse, my mother-in-law, Sharon, hid my condition from my parents, insisted on taking me into her care, and then deliberately let my illness worsen by refusing me proper treatment.

Just as I was drawing my last breath, a vacation photo Olivia posted revealed the truth—on the wrist of a man, half-hidden in the background, was the limited-edition watch I had personally designed for Caleb.

In the photo, standing right next to my "deceased" husband, was my so-called best friend, Olivia.

...

I snapped back to the present, staring at Olivia's deceptively sincere face.

She must have known all along that Caleb wasn't dead. They had likely planned the whole thing, his fake death a ploy to escape with a massive lottery prize.

"Chloe, please, don't work yourself up. You're so fragile. The shock of Caleb's death... what if you completely collapse?"

I shrugged off Olivia’s hand, my voice unnervingly calm as I asked, "Where is his body? I want to see him."

Olivia blinked, thrown by my composure. She stammered, "At... at Lake Tahoe. The search and rescue team said the currents swept him away..."

I immediately picked up my phone and, in front of everyone, dialed a number. "Hello, Detective Marcus? This is Chloe Hayes. I don't believe my husband is dead, and I'm offering a one-million-dollar reward for information on his whereabouts."

Olivia tried to stop me, muttering platitudes about accepting reality, but I wasn't buying a word of it.

Gently pushing her aside, I continued into the phone, "That's right. One million in cash. I want him found, dead or alive. I need to see him with my own eyes—or see a body."

Less than two hours later, the private investigator called back. They had found a body downstream whose description was a perfect match for Caleb.

Without hesitation, I contacted the most exclusive funeral home in the city. "I need to arrange a cremation immediately. It has to be today."

Olivia's eyes widened in horror. "Isn't it too rash to cremate him so quickly?"

I shot her a cold glance. "He's been in the water for too long. Keeping the body around will only prolong the agony for those of us left behind."

"But Sharon hasn't even had a chance to see him one last time."

Olivia was pacing frantically, terrified I would have Caleb cremated before his mother could intervene. "Listen, she's old and her health isn't good. Seeing him in this state might be too much for her. We should wait."

She bit her lip and rushed off to call Caleb's mother.

I couldn't suppress a smirk. Go on. Try and stop me.

You want to play dead, Caleb? Fine. I'll call your bluff and send you to meet your maker for real.

Just as the funeral home's car arrived, Caleb's mother showed up, just in time to see the staff carrying out her son's body bag.

"You venomous bitch! The Miller family has had nothing but trouble since Caleb married you! You killed my son, and now you won't even let me see his body?"

She started making a scene the moment she arrived.

"Rushing to cremate him? What, you can't wait to collect his life insurance? You gold-digging bitch! You've shamed the Miller name. Why don't you just die with him?!"

I stood there like a detached observer, watching Sharon Pierce. Impeccably dressed in a designer suit, she completely lost her composure, shrieking at the hospital entrance.

A crowd of curious reporters and onlookers gathered, their camera flashes and pointing fingers all aimed at me.

"No matter what, you can't deny a mother the right to see her son one last time."

"Look at her, like an ice queen. Not a single tear."

"Who stays that calm after their husband dies? She must already have another man lined up."

Their murmurs didn't faze me. It was Olivia who rushed to Sharon's side, helping her up. "Mrs. Pierce, please, let's get you up. Chloe is just overwhelmed."

Sharon steadied herself and jabbed a finger at me. "You're no longer part of this family. The Millers want nothing to do with you, and you will not handle my son's funeral."

A faint smile touched my lips. "Sharon, surely you're aware that as Caleb's legal wife, I have the exclusive right to handle his final arrangements?"

"Besides, you seem to be in remarkably good spirits for a grieving mother. Anyone who didn't know better might think you know something we don't—like that Caleb is still alive."

A flicker of guilt crossed Sharon's and Olivia's faces, but they doubled down on their act. "I lost control when I heard you were going to cremate my son without letting me see him. I'm going to see him now."

I gestured toward the hearse in the distance. "Go ahead. He's in there."

Sharon's eyes followed my gesture, and she erupted in fury, her eyes bulging. "A hearse? Chloe, that's for corpses! How could you just put my son in there like he's... like he's just a body?"

"Have you no heart? After everything my son did for you!"

I met her gaze with feigned confusion. "Sharon, what are you talking about? A hearse is for the deceased. Isn't your son deceased? I'm not seeing the problem here."

Sharon's face fell. She glared at me, clearly thrown off by my blunt response.

However, it was Olivia who stepped forward. "Chloe, don't be so harsh on Mrs. Pierce. She just wants to follow tradition. It's tradition to let the deceased lie in state for a few days. It gives friends and family a chance to pay their respects before the cremation."

Sharon immediately nodded. "That's right. Let's get my son properly situated. Olivia always makes so much sense."

I shrugged. What did I care about following tradition?

However, Caleb couldn't be taken back to his mansion. The neighbors in his upscale community wouldn't appreciate a funeral disrupting their peace.

So, he was temporarily taken to a top-tier private funeral home.

As if on cue, the funeral home was already prepared for a viewing, the room elegantly decorated with lavish floral arrangements for mourners.

Yet there wasn't a trace of grief on the attendees' faces. It felt more like a high-end cocktail party; some people were even murmuring about the stock market.

Sharon, holding a glass of red wine, was all smiles, greeting guests as if she were hosting a party rather than mourning her son.

Olivia turned to me. "Chloe, you've been on your feet all day. Sit down and rest. I'll stay with Caleb."

I picked up a plate of exquisite canapés and, with perfect composure, took a seat beside Caleb's open casket. "There's no need. He's my husband, not yours. Why should you be the one to stay with him?"

Olivia's face darkened as she stared at me.

I waved a dismissive hand. "Aren't we supposed to hold a twenty-four-hour vigil? I'll be right here for every minute of it. I'm not letting anyone disturb his rest."

Olivia shot me an impatient glance before retreating to confer with Sharon.

Two figures slipped into a shadowy corner, whispering urgently as they debated their next move.

I followed them and overheard Olivia's panicked voice. "What are we going to do? If Caleb doesn't get his medication in twenty-four hours, he's going to wake up!"

Sharon sounded extremely displeased. "That bitch is derailing everything. I have an idea—later, I'll go to Starbucks and get her favorite Flat White. I'll add a little 'something' to it to make sure she sleeps like a log."

I let out a derisive laugh and returned to my seat.

Another cup? Sure. Enjoy it while it lasts, I thought.

I sat down beside the casket. A short while later, Sharon approached with a steaming cup of coffee, a benevolent smile plastered on her face.

"Chloe, I spoke too harshly earlier. You must be exhausted. Here, have some of your favorite Flat White." She offered me the cup.

I waved her away. "Save it, Sharon. You go and rest. I'll be watching over my husband for the next twenty-four hours. I don't need any help."

Sharon's face hardened, and she snapped, "That won't do. You'll work yourself to death."

If I hadn't known she was terrified about Caleb waking up, I might have mistaken her for a caring mother-in-law.

"Thank you for your concern, but I'll manage," I assured her.

Sharon gritted her teeth, barely suppressing her rage. "At least have some coffee to stay awake."

When she tried to force the coffee on me, I took the cup and pretended to take a large sip.

Satisfied, Sharon walked away.

That night, I feigned sleep by the coffin, but in reality, a miniature camera on my brooch was live-streaming everything directly to my secure cloud account.

"That woman is driving me crazy, making my son go a whole day without his medication," Sharon complained.

Then Olivia spoke. "Let's go give Caleb his maintenance dose. He can't last much longer."

I sensed Olivia approach and gently pat Caleb's cheek. "Caleb, it's me," she whispered. "Can you hear me? Are you okay?"

Caleb's voice broke the silence. "The drug was supposed to keep me under for hours, a perfect suspended animation. But I cracked an eye open, and Chloe was right there staring at me. God, it scared the hell out of me."

"How is she still so energetic? Her constitution is so delicate... the shock alone should have made her fall apart. Seeing me 'dead' should have destroyed her."

Sharon let out a scornful laugh. "That woman doesn't love you at all. If she did, she wouldn't be standing there without even blinking."

Hearing them, I sneered. In my past life, this very act drove me to my death.

But this time, I had a second chance. I would not fall for the same trick again.

"Son, it's time for your dose. Don't worry, I'll find a way to get you a divorce. She won't see a single cent of that lottery money."

"Yeah, I know. I can't hold on much longer."

Just then, I feigned waking up, letting out a low groan while secretly triggering the emergency alarm I'd planted in the room. "Who's there? Who's talking?"

A piercing alarm blared and the lights flashed on. Caleb had no choice but to snap his eyes shut and play dead again, while Olivia and Sharon scrambled to hide the syringe and retreat to the side.

"What's happening? Is that a fire alarm?" I looked around, feigning panic.

"You were dreaming, Chloe," Olivia said, her voice strained but trying for calm. "It must be a false alarm. Why don't you go sleep in a proper bed?"

I looked at them and shook my head. "No, I'm staying right here with my husband. And for safety, I've already asked the funeral home to install 24-hour live-stream surveillance."

Their faces contorted with rage, but they held their tongues, afraid of blowing their cover.

That night, I used a silk ribbon to gently tie Caleb's wrist to my own. The slightest movement from him would wake me instantly.

By morning, the looks Olivia and Sharon were giving me could have burned through steel. After all, I had kept Sharon's precious son from getting his dose all night. Their fury was palpable.

The next day, Sharon tried the same trick, handing me another cup of coffee laced with sleeping pills.

I played along, pretending to drink it, and then feigned a deep sleep.

As night fell, Sharon and Olivia crept in, their intentions sinister.

Caleb bolted upright in the casket. He must have figured that even a comatose person has to shift position eventually.

I snapped my head up and stared at him, my eyes wide with feigned disbelief.

"Darling, I thought you were gone! How... how are you sitting up?"