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PROLOGUE
Lamise
“If you’re watching this video, it’s likely I’m already dead.”
I tapped on the screen to pause the video.
If I thought I’d been living in a nightmare for the past six months, I couldn’t have been more wrong.
This was the third time I’d heard that phrase, having watched the video in its entirety twice already, and I’d decided to torture myself further by starting it again.
I was completely dumbfounded.
Part of me wondered if I’d actually woken up this morning. Had I dreamt this whole thing up?
What the heck happened? What had I missed?
Sadly, none of the questions I asked myself came with any answers, and the worst part about it all was that the words I’d just heard were the truth.
He was dead.
Graham was dead.
Myfiancé.
It was barely over six months ago, with just under a year left until our wedding, when it happened.
Devastation.
God, I didn’t know devastation like that existed. Or maybe I knew it did, but I never understood the magnitude of it. I didn’t fully grasp how it could feel like your entire world had stopped spinning.
Everything, absolutely everything, I had planned for my future, went down the drain in the blink of an eye. So fast. So quick. One day, everything made sense. The next, heartbreak and despair.
I’d never forget that day.
It was a Saturday. Graham and I always had a lunch date on Saturday afternoons. But before we did that, Graham went out in the morning for his run, and he took our Boxer, Henry, with him. They’d go for a run before heading to the dog park for a bit.
I’d gone about my morning just like I always did—cleaning the bathrooms, vacuuming the upstairs, and throwing in two loads of laundry in the home we shared together. It was always about fifteen minutes after I’d finished all of those tasks and showered when Graham and Henry returned.
Henry would always climb into his bed after his morning out and take an afternoon nap. Graham would grab a quick shower before the two of us would leave for our lunch date. Sometimes, especially in the spring and fall, we would plan an afternoon out, doing something fun. Recently, we’d been spending time together while taking care of different tasks related to wedding planning.
That day, we’d had an appointment to meet with one of the potential caterers. Unfortunately, things took a devastating and unexpected turn.
Twenty minutes after the time passed when I would have expected Graham to be home, I decided to call him.
He didn’t answer.
So, I sent him a text.
No response.
Ten minutes after that, the doorbell rang.
I opened the door, saw two police officers there, and instantly knew something bad had happened.
Part of me—the naïve part—expected the officers to tell me that I needed to go with them, because Graham had been in an accident and was on his way to the hospital. Or maybe it wasn’t an expectation so much as it was a wish.
I didn’t get my wish.
