Chapter 2

I'd always thought I was careful, that I had taken every precaution. There was no way I could get pregnant.

But now, it seemed like Charles had done some tampering. He must have switched out my birth control pills. He had wanted this all along—to make me pregnant.

And yet, I had told him before that I wasn't ready for children. Growing up, I'd never had enough to eat, which left me severely anemic. The thought of pregnancy terrified me. It wasn't just risky; it could be fatal. One mistake and I could lose everything—both the baby and my life.

I was scared to death of getting pregnant.

He had nodded and acted understanding. But behind my back, he had done this.

I shifted my gaze to them, still struggling to believe what I was seeing. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe it was all just a misunderstanding, an accident.

But then I heard Charles's voice. "But no matter what, we have to wait until Sabrina gives birth to the child before we can divorce."

"But I'm mad jealous!" Arianna whined, pouting in his arms.

He pulled her closer and said comfortingly, "You've always been frail. You catch a cold if the wind blows too hard. Having a baby would be too hard on you. It's not good for you."

"So you're letting Sabrina have your baby instead?" she teased.

"She's my wife," he said. "Of course, she has to give me a child!"

His tone shifted, growing more heated. "Who does she think she is? If I hadn't taken pity on her and married her, who would've wanted to marry a penniless orphan? She even said she didn't want a child—how ridiculous! I bet she's just making excuses, perhaps still holding out hope for someone else!"

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. These words, dripping with contempt, were coming from Charles, the man who always put on such a good show in front of me. He had always played the part so well.

Ari looked up at him, her voice sweet and syrupy as she traced circles on his neck. "Sabrina is your wife, so what am I to you, Charles?"

He grabbed her hand, kissing it as he whispered, "Sabrina is just my wife. But you, Ari, are the only one I love."

And with that, they kissed, completely lost in each other.

I couldn't bear to watch any longer. I wanted to turn away, to escape. But no matter how hard I tried, I found myself rooted to the spot, unable to step away from Charles.

So there I sat, helpless and frustrated, forced to witness their intimate moment unfold right in front of me.

*

I waited until I couldn't feel anything anymore. Until the numbness set in, and they finally stopped kissing and let my poor eyes rest.

Charles's phone rang, breaking the silence. I glanced at the screen and saw the caller ID—it was one of my students.

Instantly, worry gnawed at me. What would happen to them now that I was dead? What about their half-finished graduation projects? Who would help them?

"Professor Lambert, is your wife with you? I need to speak to her," I heard the voice over the phone, a voice so familiar it pulled me toward it. I instinctively reached out, forgetting for a moment that I was no longer solid, no longer real.

My ghostly hand passed right through the phone, slipping away, while Arianna caught it instead.

"Hello, I'm here," she said. "What do you need?"

"Oh, nothing much," my student replied. "I left the new gift I bought in your music room. When you have time…"

"I'm a little busy lately," Arianna interrupted smoothly. "Just email your composition to me, and I'll check it."

"Oh, okay. So, about my composition?" He sounded hesitant.

"Consider it passed," she said, almost carelessly.

"Thank you, Mrs. Lambert! You're so kind, not like that old stiff. She's always pushing us to revise everything a thousand times—it's so annoying! And can you believe she even plagiarized your work? Disgusting! Thank goodness the school fired her and assigned us to you. I can't imagine how much more we'd suffer if we were still stuck with her!"

The voice was too familiar. Too painfully familiar. One of my students. One of the students I had stayed up late for, fixing their revisions, working until the early morning to guide them.

They'd always been slow to send their drafts back, and I had thought, maybe they just weren't that talented. Maybe it was hard for them.

But now, hearing this... It wasn't that. They just didn't care. They had never wanted to do it properly.

That hurt more than anything Charles had done to me. More than the pregnancy he had trapped me with. All my time, my effort, my care—it had all been wasted.

And he called her "Mrs. Lambert." They all knew all along, didn't they?

My students, everyone. They knew about Charles and Arianna. Everyone knew, but me.

I stumbled a few steps back, struggling to breathe, even though I no longer needed to. I had thought, once you died, you wouldn't feel any pain. But no. My heart still hurt. And there I was, stuck, forced to listen as my student kept pouring out his complaints to her—complaints about me.

It wasn't until Arianna frowned, clearly losing interest, that Charles finally took the phone from her and ended the call.

"Enough about that annoying Sabrina. I've already cut off her cards. It won't be long before she comes crawling back, begging me to forgive her. And when she does, I'll make sure she apologizes to you."

"Good," Arianna said, her voice turning saccharine again. "I will wait for you to get revenge for me!"

Charles reached into his pocket and pulled out a necklace—a necklace I recognized immediately. It was one I had been admiring for months but couldn't bring myself to buy because it was far too expensive.

There was no way Charles could've afforded something like that. Not with his money.

Unless... he'd touched my savings.