Chapter 2
The silence in the ballroom was deafening, broken only by the sound of Ethan’s champagne flute shattering against the marble.
Elena, his supposedly deceased wife, stood there in a maid’s uniform, holding their weeping son. She locked eyes with Vanessa, Ethan’s glamorous fiancée. The whisper left Elena’s lips, barely audible to the crowd but echoing like thunder to those closest: "I saw you pay the mechanic, Vanessa. I remember everything."
Vanessa’s ghost-white face twisted into a mask of pure panic. She stumbled backward, bumping into a tower of crystal glasses. The crowd gasped. Ethan, his mind spinning, stepped between his wife and his fiancée.
"What is she talking about, Vanessa?" Ethan’s voice was dangerously low, demanding the truth.
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Vanessa tried to play the victim, her voice trembling as she pointed a manicured finger at Elena. "She’s lying! Ethan, this woman is an imposter! A crazy stalker obsessed with your dead wife!"
But Elena didn't flinch. She gently handed their son to Ethan, a motherly touch that Ethan instantly recognized. The way her fingers brushed the boy's hair—it was impossible to fake. Elena turned to the crowd, raising her voice. "I didn't die in the crash. I was thrown from the vehicle before it burst into flames. A local farmer found me in a coma. When I woke up months later, I had no memory. By the time it returned, Vanessa had already moved into my home."
