

I died on the day I was supposed to receive the Pack’s Distinguished Service Award. Three hours after I died, my parents, my brother, and my mate were just wrapping up the graduation party they’d thrown for my sister. While my sister, Ella, was posting a cozy family photo on Instagram, I was locked in our basement, using my tongue to swipe on my phone and call for help. The only person who answered was my mate, Ryan. All he said was, "Sophie, cut the drama. Ella's graduation party is important. Enough with the tantrums!" This was the ninety-ninth time they had let me down. And the last. I lay in a pool of my own blood, my lungs still. They thought I was just throwing a fit, hiding somewhere. That if they taught me a lesson, I’d come crawling back. But they didn't know. I was home the whole time. I was already dead.

Emily Porter, an ordinary housewife, finds herself shunned by her mother-in-law for giving birth to a daughter instead of a son. Her husband, Joe Baker, driven by greed for a hefty insurance payout, conspires with his lover to murder Emily. In a calculated move, Joe stages a car accident that leaves Emily in a vegetative state. In a shocking turn of events, he goes as far as to bury his comatose wife alive, only to rush off to marry his mistress moments later. But fate has a twist in store, as Emily awakens, ready to seek justice and reclaim her life.