MARIANNE Troy and I had just enjoyed a lighthearted evening bowling, something I hadn’t done in years. Being with him brought out a playful side of me, a side I almost forgot existed. But as soon as Sharon called, her voice tight with urgency, telling me about Britney, my mood shifted. Without hesitation, I made a few calls and ensured her arrest. Though part of me wanted to witness her arrest firsthand, I was occupied with more important matters. Still, knowing the entire event was captured on CCTV and that I’d have access to watch it later gave me satisfaction. I planned to savor the moment from the comfort of my home, relishing the image of Britney in handcuffs. I could hardly wait for the changes the coming week would bring. Tony and Britney were finally about to face the consequences they deserved. The company funds that Tony had secretly siphoned into hidden accounts were back where they belonged, thanks to me. Sharon had drained his remaining assets, leaving him in the exa
MARIANNE I folded my arms tightly across my chest, feeling the tension coil inside me as I stared incredulously at the woman standing before me. This woman who, impossibly, was supposed to be dead. Yet here she was, brazen and unapologetic, claiming the life I’d carefully built. My fists clenched instinctively. "Take back what is yours?" I echoed, my voice laced with bitterness. "You talk about Troy like he’s some possession. You do realize he's my husband, right?" She let out a mocking scoff, rolling her eyes. "Husband? Oh, come on. We both know your so-called marriage is nothing but a farce. Troy told me all about it." I felt my stomach tighten. "Troy told you about it?" I asked, struggling to keep the quiver from my voice. "Yes," she replied smoothly, a smug smile creeping across her face. "He told me everything. He said it was only temporary—that once things settled, he’d be back with me where he belongs. You know your place, don’t you? Wearing my face, living with my man… n
MARIANNE "Shut the hell up," Troy yelled. He gripped Aislinn's hand, his jaw clenched as he began dragging her towards the door, ready to throw her out. She fought back, her pleas piercing through the air, "Stop, baby! Please, just listen!" "Enough! Enough!" I screamed, my voice breaking as it cut through their heated exchange. "Enough of this drama, Troy and Aislinn." Troy froze, his hand dropping from hers as he turned to face me, his eyes searching mine, pleading. "Listen, Cherie..." "Don’t call me that," I shot back, my voice colder than I’d intended. "This was a mistake from the very beginning." "No, Aislinn, listen—" "I am not Aislinn!" I yelled, the words ripped from me in a torrent of frustration and hurt. "My name is Marianne. There, that is Aislinn, that is your Aislinn, Troy." He looked taken aback, his face a mix of regret and confusion. "Listen to me," he said softly. "I understand what you're thinking right now, okay? But just calm down and listen to what
TROY I felt a tremor of shock ripple through me at what unfolded before my eyes. The turn of events was staggering, like a tidal wave crashing over my heart. When I first heard a female voice call out to me while I was still in the kitchen, I knew something was wrong. The person certainly didn't sound like Marianne. It was clear now—Aislinn was doing everything possible to provoke Marianne, to disrupt the fragile peace I’d worked so hard to establish. I just wished, more than anything, that Marianne would calm down, take a breath, and allow me a chance to speak. But she was stubborn, fiercely so, and that stubbornness was as much a part of her as the pulse in her veins. I loved her for it, yet sometimes, it drove a wedge between us. I tried to explain, tried to reach her through the wall she’d put up, but it was like trying to catch the wind. Watching her walk away felt like watching my world shatter, as if each step she took was ripping something vital from me. It was like a
TROY As the days dragged on painfully, I remained rooted at Marianne's apartment, unwilling to leave, despite her absence. I kept hoping she would return, but day after day passed—one, two, three days, then four—and still, there was no sign of her. The empty silence grew louder with each passing moment, filling me with a gnawing emptiness. My mind was clouded with fear, frustration, and an ache that wouldn’t let me rest. I searched for her tirelessly, refusing to give up. I went to her company every morning, visited the police station, and scoured every place I thought she might be. I was haunted by her absence, by the need to see her, to know she was safe. And with each fruitless attempt, the weight of despair only grew heavier, crushing my resolve bit by bit. Still, there was no sign of her. My phone chimed occasionally, and each time, my heart would leap with a flicker of hope—only to realize it was another call or message from Aislinn, whose persistence grated on my last ner
TROY The sharp sting of Marianne’s slap echoed through the courtroom and reverberated deep in my chest. My hand instinctively flew to my cheek, as if trying to confirm what had just happened. I stared at her in stunned silence, my breath caught somewhere between shock and disbelief. “How dare you touch me!” she spat, her voice laced with anger and an emotion I couldn’t quite place. “What happened to you?” I managed, my voice barely above a whisper. She met my gaze, her eyes like ice, sharp and unyielding. “Listen to me, and listen carefully. Stay away from me and anything that has to do with me.” Her words hit harder than the slap. There was a cold finality to her tone that made my stomach twist. “Initially, I thought of sending you the divorce papers,” she continued, her voice steady but trembling at the edges, “but then it occurred to me that I married you as Aislinn. Everything—the identity I used—was a fake one. Hence, there’s no need for a divorce. You can go be with your A
MARIANNE “This court finds the accused, Mr. Tony Vane, guilty of four counts of complicity in perjury, unlawful imprisonment leading to death, attempted murder, and embezzlement of company funds, and sentences him to life imprisonment with hard labor in the Norwegian island prison.” “The court also finds the accused, Mrs. Britney Vane, guilty of five counts of kidnapping, bestickning and hot, bribery, Perjury, and unlawful imprisonment leading to death, and sentences her to life imprisonment with hard labor in the Norwegian island prison.” As I listened to the judge’s final verdict, I exhaled slowly, a quiet sigh of relief escaping my lips. It was over. Tony, Britney, and Mildred had been brought to justice. Mildred received eight years in prison for perjury and complicity in embezzlement, which I believed was adequate punishment. Yet, as the gavel struck, signaling the conclusion, an unexpected emptiness welled up inside me. This was everything I had fought for—justice for my
SHARON As I watched everything unfold before me, I felt a profound sense of satisfaction. Every detail had fallen into place, every move executed flawlessly. For the first time in a long while, I allowed myself to exhale deeply. My job was done, and it had gone exactly as planned. Yet, as the euphoria faded, unease crept in, wrapping around me like an unwelcome shadow. The discovery hit me like a lightning bolt: the woman I had loyally called Aislinn, my enigmatic boss, was none other than Marianne. The very same Marianne she had claimed was her late sister. At first, I dismissed the similarities as coincidence. But then, little things began to stand out—the way she spoke about her “sister,” often slipping into first person as if she were Marianne, the way her eyes gleamed with a depth of knowledge only someone who had lived through such betrayal could possess. And now, looking at her partially obscured face, there was no denying the truth. Marianne had survived. She had retur
MARIANNE HOURS EARLIER My dream lingered as I woke, the soft voice of a little girl calling me "Mommy" fading into the morning haze. My chest felt tight, as though her voice had reached into the very core of my being and left an imprint I couldn’t erase. I washed my face, staring at my reflection, trying to shake the dream off. The face staring back at me seemed foreign—cold, calculated, and so far removed from the woman I used to be. I had to make a decision. I couldn’t delay anymore. Dr. Raymond was waiting for my answer, and I knew I needed to face him today. But as I dried my face with the towel, a nagging thought struck me. There was something I had ignored earlier—a file I hadn’t bothered to open. Curious, I grabbed my phone and opened it. My brows furrowed as I noticed it was an audio file from Sharon. I pressed play. The voices that came through made me lift my brows. Aislinn. Sharon. I listened intently as Aislinn spoke with venom, her words sharp and deliberat
MARIANNE When I arrived at my old apartment, I paused outside, scanning my surroundings with a cautious eye. The air felt heavy, as if it carried an unspoken warning. It was still my house though. With a deep breath, I approached the keypad, and entered the code. As the door clicked open, I stepped into silence. The house was eerily still, void of the warmth and familiarity it once held. “Sharon?” I called out, my voice echoing in the empty space. No answer. I fished out my phone and dialed her number, only to be met with a dead line. The same number that had called me earlier was suddenly unreachable. I didn't need a soothsayer to tell me that something terrible was about to happen, but not to me. Determined to figure out what was going on, I began searching the house. My steps were quick and purposeful, the creak of the wooden floors beneath me the only sound. As I ascended the stairs two at a time, a faint noise stopped me in my tracks. It was coming from the CCTV room. I
MARIANNE “What!” Doctor Raymond exclaimed, his voice a mix of shock and concern. “What are you saying, Marianne? I know you wanted to be a mother before and…” “No,” I interrupted, my voice firm but my heart unsteady. “I am not ready to be a mother. Not right now.” He hesitated, studying my expression before speaking. “I need to tell you something. There’s a high chance you’ll never conceive again.” The words hit me like a punch to the gut, but I kept my composure. I nodded slowly, swallowing the lump forming in my throat. “Okay, I can live with that. There are so many motherless children out there who need someone to look after them. When I’m ready to be a mother, I’ll fill that gap. I’ll adopt a few children and love them as my own.” “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice softer now, almost hesitant. “Yes,” I replied, but the resolve in my voice didn’t match the storm brewing inside me. He sighed deeply, almost as if he could sense my inner turmoil. “Alright, if you’ve mad
MARIANNE After Aislinn left, I got into my car and sat there, the echo of her words swirling in my mind, tightening the knot of anger in my chest. My hands trembled slightly as I gripped the steering wheel."I can't let Troy stay in my house anymore," I muttered, the words barely audible over the roar of my emotions. "He's out. Tonight."I started the car and drove towards my apartment on the outskirts of town, my jaw clenched and my heart pounding against my ribs. Every mile I covered only amplified my frustration. When I finally pulled into the driveway, his car wasn’t there.The silence when I stepped inside was deafening, but his presence lingered. His cologne still clung to the air, an irritating reminder of him. I sighed heavily and sank into the living room couch, my mind spiraling back to Aislinn’s threats."Interesting, Aislinn," I murmured with a bitter smile. "Don’t you just love to talk? Let’s see how much you’ll love it when you can’t hear or speak anymore."The thought
SHARON As I watched everything unfold before me, I felt a profound sense of satisfaction. Every detail had fallen into place, every move executed flawlessly. For the first time in a long while, I allowed myself to exhale deeply. My job was done, and it had gone exactly as planned. Yet, as the euphoria faded, unease crept in, wrapping around me like an unwelcome shadow. The discovery hit me like a lightning bolt: the woman I had loyally called Aislinn, my enigmatic boss, was none other than Marianne. The very same Marianne she had claimed was her late sister. At first, I dismissed the similarities as coincidence. But then, little things began to stand out—the way she spoke about her “sister,” often slipping into first person as if she were Marianne, the way her eyes gleamed with a depth of knowledge only someone who had lived through such betrayal could possess. And now, looking at her partially obscured face, there was no denying the truth. Marianne had survived. She had retur
MARIANNE “This court finds the accused, Mr. Tony Vane, guilty of four counts of complicity in perjury, unlawful imprisonment leading to death, attempted murder, and embezzlement of company funds, and sentences him to life imprisonment with hard labor in the Norwegian island prison.” “The court also finds the accused, Mrs. Britney Vane, guilty of five counts of kidnapping, bestickning and hot, bribery, Perjury, and unlawful imprisonment leading to death, and sentences her to life imprisonment with hard labor in the Norwegian island prison.” As I listened to the judge’s final verdict, I exhaled slowly, a quiet sigh of relief escaping my lips. It was over. Tony, Britney, and Mildred had been brought to justice. Mildred received eight years in prison for perjury and complicity in embezzlement, which I believed was adequate punishment. Yet, as the gavel struck, signaling the conclusion, an unexpected emptiness welled up inside me. This was everything I had fought for—justice for my
TROY The sharp sting of Marianne’s slap echoed through the courtroom and reverberated deep in my chest. My hand instinctively flew to my cheek, as if trying to confirm what had just happened. I stared at her in stunned silence, my breath caught somewhere between shock and disbelief. “How dare you touch me!” she spat, her voice laced with anger and an emotion I couldn’t quite place. “What happened to you?” I managed, my voice barely above a whisper. She met my gaze, her eyes like ice, sharp and unyielding. “Listen to me, and listen carefully. Stay away from me and anything that has to do with me.” Her words hit harder than the slap. There was a cold finality to her tone that made my stomach twist. “Initially, I thought of sending you the divorce papers,” she continued, her voice steady but trembling at the edges, “but then it occurred to me that I married you as Aislinn. Everything—the identity I used—was a fake one. Hence, there’s no need for a divorce. You can go be with your A
TROY As the days dragged on painfully, I remained rooted at Marianne's apartment, unwilling to leave, despite her absence. I kept hoping she would return, but day after day passed—one, two, three days, then four—and still, there was no sign of her. The empty silence grew louder with each passing moment, filling me with a gnawing emptiness. My mind was clouded with fear, frustration, and an ache that wouldn’t let me rest. I searched for her tirelessly, refusing to give up. I went to her company every morning, visited the police station, and scoured every place I thought she might be. I was haunted by her absence, by the need to see her, to know she was safe. And with each fruitless attempt, the weight of despair only grew heavier, crushing my resolve bit by bit. Still, there was no sign of her. My phone chimed occasionally, and each time, my heart would leap with a flicker of hope—only to realize it was another call or message from Aislinn, whose persistence grated on my last ner
TROY I felt a tremor of shock ripple through me at what unfolded before my eyes. The turn of events was staggering, like a tidal wave crashing over my heart. When I first heard a female voice call out to me while I was still in the kitchen, I knew something was wrong. The person certainly didn't sound like Marianne. It was clear now—Aislinn was doing everything possible to provoke Marianne, to disrupt the fragile peace I’d worked so hard to establish. I just wished, more than anything, that Marianne would calm down, take a breath, and allow me a chance to speak. But she was stubborn, fiercely so, and that stubbornness was as much a part of her as the pulse in her veins. I loved her for it, yet sometimes, it drove a wedge between us. I tried to explain, tried to reach her through the wall she’d put up, but it was like trying to catch the wind. Watching her walk away felt like watching my world shatter, as if each step she took was ripping something vital from me. It was like a