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On the day of Alex’s trial, my phone was bombarded with missed calls. I knew they were from his parents. I answered the last one and set the phone down, listening to them hurl insults at me.
They called me an ungrateful wolf.
Finally, when they started insulting my deceased parents, I picked up the phone. “Your son cheated, and you, as his parents, helped him,” I said, my voice dangerously calm. “And you have the audacity to call anyone else worthless? You are the most worthless people I have ever known.”
I hung up. The next time I saw them was in court.
They had hired a famous, high–powered lawyer to defend their son. In the courtroom, the lawyer’s arguments
were airtight. Alex looked at me with an expression of smug certainty.
Isabelle, sitting beside him in an expensive custom–made dress and holding a single rose, whispered to me, “You’re going to lose. Try not to cry when it happens.”
I just smiled at her.
When the judge called for the key piece of evidence, my lawyer submitted something at the last minute. The opposing counsel was caught off guard. When the evidence was played for the court, Isabelle, sitting next to
me, went pale.
I leaned over and smiled. “Just because you were reborn,” I whispered, “doesn’t mean others weren’t.”
She stared at me in horror.
The evidence was an audio recording of the conversation between her and Alex right after she had misdiag- nosed me, while they were burying me. It proved, beyond a doubt, that they both knew I was still showing signs of life. But because she had already declared me dead and they had started the burial, they chose not only to do nothing, but to actively help cover it up.
It was clear proof of attempted murder.
The trial was a disaster for Alex. And it dragged Isabelle down with him. She was taken into custody directly
from the courtroom.
Under investigation, Isabelle couldn’t handle the pressure. She started blaming everything on Alex. During mediated sessions, she told me everything, right to my face.
She said Alex was reborn too. That burying me was his idea.
She told me it was Alex, not her, who didn’t want me to get pregnant. He had fertility issues himself and was terrified I would force him to get tested and expose his fragile ego. That’s why he fed me the pills, ruining my chances of ever having a child.
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Chapter 2
16:17
So, when my wishes were consulted, I made it clear: no deals. No mediation. I wanted them to pay.
In the end, they were both sentenced to prison. The sentences weren’t long, but their lives were effectively ruined. The Ross family disowned their daughter. Alex not only lost his job but was relentlessly houndec online by the same people who used to attack me.
In the years that followed, I expanded my company, opening a new branch in another state.
The year Alex was released from prison, the company I had built from scratch went public.
I shot onto the list of the country’s wealthiest people.
At my celebration gala, I saw him. Alex, with his parents in tow.
