The Grave They Dug For Her

t my family never came. My father and brother were too busy

as my fianc

his last words to me over th

ll for al

rved my name on a tombstone. They buried me under a mount

't die. I

-a bestselling author, married to a tech CEO,

the first person I met was Clayton, standing in f

pte

y

It was the first thing that hit me as I drove my rental car through the rusty gates of the Dillard family cemetery, a place I swore I' d never willingly s

l echo of the life I had shed. The stone was new, newer than my mother' s, and unnervingly pristine. On its base, a faded bouquet of plast

fled past. He' d probably been tending these graves since

a ghost. Spitting image, you are, of poor Ivy Dillard. Same dark hair, same sad eyes." He

t a coincidence," I said, my voice flat. I didn't correct him on

you say so, ma' am. But you look just l

d him, drawing myself up. "I'm a bestselling author from New York. Here to settle my

se." He went back to raking fallen leaves, the mundane so

o laughed like sunshine. My life was built on bedrock, a fortress of love and success I had painstakingly constructe

other choosing a wedding over her critical injuries. She was the one whose fiancé, Clayton, danced with her manipulative half-si

al, I thought, a quiet end to a life that had been so brutally cut short by the very people who claimed

re. Not to mourn a ghost, but to honor the only person in that family who had ever truly loved me. I took a deep brea

vy

y from a bad dream. I froze, my hand hovering over my purse strap. I kne

r' s grave, pay my respects, and leave this cursed place forever.

onto my arm, stopping me dead in my

tle heavier, but still unmistakably him. His grip was painful, his eyes wide and bloodshot, fixed on m

voice cracking. He looked genuinely sha

n." My voice was flat, devoid of emotion. As I looked at him, my gaze fell to t

ing a girl he helped kill. His eyes were red-rimmed, his jaw ti