Chapter 5
A flicker of hope ignited in me. Julian, for all his faults, could be generous. If he knew I was dead, surely he’d arrange for a funeral.
As I’d predicted, Julian’s hand froze on the car door. He slowly turned, letting go of Ava’s hand and walking toward the two women.
His expression was calm, almost detached.
“Last night?” he asked.
They both nodded. “Yeah, awful.”
He opened his mouth to ask more, but Ava slid out of the car and looped her arm through his, her voice a playful pout.
“Julian, darling, since when do you care about the news?” she murmured. Tm starving. Can we please go eat?”
The two women hadn’t recognized her behind her sunglasses, but they knew her voice. Their faces lit up.
“Oh my God, you’re Ava Monroe! And this must be your fiance…
Ava’s first marriage had been a secret. This one was a media spectacle. Their engagement photos were everywhere, hailed as the reunion of the century. The fallout had been vicious. I’d been dragged through the mud online, painted as a home–wrecking gold- digger who’d used a passing resemblance to sink her claws into a great man. The narrative was simple: they knew each other first. I was the interloper. I’d had to delete all my social media apps.
Ava smiled graciously. “Yes, it is.”
“Wow, you two are so perfect together!”
“When’s the wedding?”
“We’re in the production next door, we’re huge fans! Could we possibly get an autograph?”
Ava graciously agreed. The moment was lost. Julian’s brief flicker of interest was extinguished.
I wasn’t surprised, I knew the hierarchy. Nothing, and no one, came before Ava. Her smiles, her tears, her whims… even her hunger. They all demanded his immediate and total attention.
While Ava signed autographs, I watched him pull out his phone and call Arthur, telling him to cancel their reservation and book a table at the closest five–star restaurant.
I trailed them through dinner and back to the mansion. The entire time, Julian was the picture of attentiveness. If I still loved him, it would have been agony. A death by a thousand cuts.
But I didn’t. I just felt a profound numbness, a cosmic sense of being wronged. I had tried to be a good person, and my reward was
to die alone and unmourned.
The moment we stepped inside, I saw the house had been completely transformed. All traces of me were gone.
The housekeeper, Mrs. Gable, came down the stairs, holding the hand of a little girl of about three or four. She wore a frilly dress, her hair a cascade of natural curls, pinned back with a diamond barrette.
“Lily, come here, sweetie,” Ava called.
The girl, whose last name came from Ava’s ex–husband, ran and threw herself into her mother’s arms. Then she turned and grabb ed Julian’s hand. “Daddy Julian!”
He knelt, his expression softening as he stroked her hair. “Have you been a good girl today?”
1741 D
A perfect, happy family. Who would have thought the ruthless Jullan Vance would stoop to raising another man’s child?
“I was very good!” Lily chirped,
Just then, the doorbell rang, a jarring interruption.
Mrs. Gable answered it and returned with a small package. She glanced nervously at Ava. “This… I think this is from Ms. Deverea-
The name hung in the air. For a moment, a memory I’d suppressed since my death surfaced.
That’s right. Before I left, I’d sent Julian a box.
The sudden quiet in the room was deafening. It was broken by Lily, who burst into tears, pointing a trembling finger at the package.
“Throw it away!” she wailed. “That’s from the bad lady!”
Ava immediately went into damage–control mode, scooping her daughter up. “Shh, baby, it’s okay. We’ll throw it away right now, just like you want.” She shot a look at the housekeeper.
Mrs. Gable looked uncertainly at Julian. “Sir…?”
His eyes were fixed on the box in her hands. He stared at it for a long, silent moment.
“Throw it away,” he said finally.
Mrs. Gable sighed and walked out the door. She returned a moment later, empty–handed.
Ava watched her go, then murmured casually, “Your little stand–in is proving to be quite the lingering spirit.”
I gritted my spectral teeth. “You have no idea,” I muttered at her. I am the bad lady. I am the lingering spirit. Go on, call a priest. See if you can exorcise me. I dare you.
