Chapter 3The Grave Robber Was My Widower

Three days passed in the blink of an eye.

This time, Wayne brought Claire with him. The woman who had been so arrogant and triumphant five years ago was now a fragile, withered husk.

Wayne lifted her from the car with infinite tenderness, placing her gently in a wheelchair. He tucked a blanket around her, his eyes filled with a pained adoration. All his gentleness was for her. For me, there was only ever impatience and contempt.

The elder and I were waiting for them at the edge of the village. Of course, no one could see me.

Wayne saw the elder standing alone, and his fury began to simmer. “Seeing Claire so weak… is Beth really so heartless? Refusing to help her own sister?”

“Old man, if you hand Beth over, if she agrees to be tested as a donor, I’ll have this road paved. I’ll improve the living conditions for everyone in this village. I’ll even take Beth back as Mrs. Heins. And that bastard child… I will treat her as if she were my own.”

He thought he was being generous. A magnanimous king making an offer to a peasant.

But the elder gave him the same answer.

“Mr. Heins, when Beth came back five years ago, she was constantly harassed by local thugs. I don’t know the exact circumstances of her death. I only know that when I realized she was missing, the whole village searched for her. We found her body in the mountains. It was… badly mauled. I gave her a burial, up on the back hill. You can see for yourself if you don’t believe me.”

Wayne laughed, a harsh, disbelieving sound. “Are you kidding me? If she was dead, how was that little bastard born? How did she survive all these years?”

The elder sighed. “Jenifer was born the night Beth arrived. After Beth died so suddenly… we couldn’t just abandon the child, could we?”

At this, a flicker of something dark and surprised crossed Claire’s face. She knew exactly how I died.

The memory was seared into my soul. I had just finished the traditional month of postpartum confinement. Claire showed up with three men. Before I could react, they seized me. She slapped me, again and again. Not satisfied, she ground her heel into my hand, crushing the bones in my fingers.

I screamed.

“You bitch, Beth!” she’d shrieked. “Why? Why were you born first? Why did you get to marry Wayne? He was supposed to love me!”

I tried to speak, but she unleashed a torrent of kicks and punches, a storm of pure hatred. Her men held me down.

Finally, I lay broken and dying on the floor. She leaned down, whispering in my ear. “The thought of you sleeping with him, having his child… it makes me sick, my dear sister. You dared to steal my man. For that, even if you are my sister, you have to die.”

Then she gestured to the men. They tore at my clothes. They violated me. I don’t know how many times. At some point, I just… stopped breathing.

And my soul watched as she ordered them to dump my body in the mountains.

The universe has a way of balancing its books. Five years later, Claire’s karma had arrived. The one person who could save her, she had killed with her own hands. She knew, better than anyone, that Wayne’s efforts were futile. I was never coming back.