The Substitute's Last Dance novel Chapter 2

My lifeless soul, out of control, drifted back to the home Jackson and I shared.

It was just one of our properties.

The basement where we lived when we struggled together had long been

transformed into a billion-dollar mansion after he made it big.

He considered those days an embarrassment and refused to look back.

And I, the wife who stood by him through thick and thin, was just a reminder of the

life he wanted to forget.

The familiar furnishings and decor only mocked my foolishness and naivety, making

me reluctant to return.

Max, our cat, rolled over, stretching his legs and licking his fur, exposing his soft belly.

I crouched down, wanting to pet him, but my fingers passed right through.

It hit me—I was dead, never able to stroke Max’s fur again, a pang of sadness welling

up inside me.

Watching Max lazily bask in his comfort, I recalled my last argument with Jackson.

He wanted me to take her place, to be kidnapped by thugs instead of his precious

first love.

The injuries I’d suffer as a substitute would manifest a hundredfold on my own body—

my family’s secret wasn’t some miraculous power.

In my despair, I coughed up blood, the arrow wound from my last substitution still

unhealed. “I really can’t do it again, Jackson. I’m still not recovered from the last

time.”

He was incredulous, accusing me repeatedly. I had never refused Jackson before, so

he took my love for granted. “Jenna, what’s one more time? Rachel’s been pampered

all her life; she can’t handle this kind of suffering.”

My hands began to tremble uncontrollably, a chill spreading through me as rage

clouded my reason.

“Jackson, you’re going to drive me to my death,” I whispered, clutching his shirt, tears

streaming uncontrollably down my face, biting my lip until it bled.

Jackson sneered, lounging on the sofa with a look of contempt. “Someone like you

might as well be dead.”

As if being in the same room as me was beneath him, he stood up, dusted off his

pants, and after a moment, delivered his ultimatum. “We can divorce. You don’t have

to go. Think it over.”

I collapsed onto the bed, my heart dead inside.

Our last encounter in life ended in unbearable humiliation.

Are you satisfied now, Jackson?

We don’t need to get divorced.

I’m really dead, just like you wanted.