faking death, raising trio

My daughter, Ruby Pratt, has leukemia. She needs a bone marrow transplant—and fast. Out of everyone in the family, my husband, Dan Pratt, was the only match. I begged him for an entire month before he finally agreed to go through with the donation. But on the morning of the surgery, he went completely off the grid. I stood outside the hospital all day, waiting. No calls. No texts. Not even a shadow. That night, his childhood friend, Valerie Kinder, posted on Instagram. In the photo, Dan was holding Valerie's hand with one arm and carrying her young son with the other—on a beach in Lulabo City. The caption read: [Soaking up the sun! Dan cleared his whole schedule to join us on a month-long trek and we finally made it to the coast! My little boy said Uncle Dan made his ocean dream come true. Pure joy!] My heart splintered. While I was drowning in worry over my daughter, he was off playing happy family with them. I wiped my tears and typed a comment beneath her post: [Not 'Uncle.' From now on, he's your son's father.] That night, I finally got a call from him. "Babe, don't be like this," Dan said. "You're not being fair. "Valerie's son has been bullied at school for not having a dad. I couldn't stand seeing him hurt, so I took them on this trip. It was supposed to help him heal. "I'll catch the first flight back tomorrow and head straight to the hospital to donate the marrow. I promise." I hung up with a bitter smile. The next morning, Dan rushed into the hospital room. But all he found on the bed was a death certificate.

The moment we witness the last surviving child in the safehouse getting pinned to the wall by a zombie before having his guts torn out, all the men in the team break down mentally. "Captain, didn't you claim that Selene kept rambling nonsense because she had gone crazy out of fright toward the zombies? Isn't that why you reassured us to keep watch while you and Madeline watched the sunrise on the summit? "Why is it that my newborn has already gotten devoured by a zombie as soon as I return to the safehouse?" Quinton Morwood goes deathly pale at the accusation. My heart feels as though it's gotten torn into pieces as I stare at the tragedy. In my previous life, when the zombies attacked the safehouse, Quinton, who was the captain of the defence team, had taken the entire team with him just so he could watch the sunrise with Madeline Moore at the mountain summit. I did everything I could to summon everyone back to the base. That was how everyone's lives were spared from the zombie attack. But Madeline was pissed that she did't get to watch the sunrise, so she left the safezone angrily on her own. That was how she got grabbed by a zombie and eaten by a horde. By the time Quinton and his squad killed the entire horde, he just hugged Madeline's femur to his chest without saying a single word. On the day I gave birth to my baby, Quinton hacked my limbs off before throwing me into the roaming hordes of zombies. I could only watch as the zombies tore my flesh off my bones before Quinton saved me again by healing me. The cycle kept going on and on until I witnessed the last piece of flesh being torn off my body. "You're the one who killed Madeline, you wretched woman! Since you like competing with her that much, I'll make sure you'll die a worse death than hers!" When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day the zombies are attacking the safezone.

"The night the blood dyed the bright moon crimson remained an eternal nightmare haunting Elara. She was the most powerful ancient Queen of the wolf clan in ten thousand years, blessed with an unparalleled bloodline that overawed all beasts and ruled the entire nocturnal realm. Yet she fell victim to the one she had trusted above all others. Kane, the elite warrior she had personally promoted, the confidant she had trusted with her back and nurtured with all the clan’s resources, drove his blade straight through her heart at the peak of their clan’s prosperity, when all beings bowed in allegiance. The piercing agony of the blade paled in comparison to the collapse of her heart. She watched the young man who had once knelt before her with utter devotion, his eyes now cold and ruthless. She witnessed him lead the rebel army to massacre the sacred wolf temple, and watch the once glorious wolf clan collapse overnight, its lands drowned in rivers of blood. With her dying breath, she heard his low, indifferent voice, devoid of the slightest affection, carrying only icy command: “Slay the Queen, secure the realm.” Boundless hatred engulfed her soul, burning her to the core, yet her vengeful resolve never wavered. Fate granted her a second chance, reborn from blood and embers. When she opened her eyes again, Elara shed her domineering ancient wolf royal bloodline, suppressing all her sharpness and supreme majesty. She transformed into a frail, humble human girl. Hiding the raging blood feud in her eyes, erasing every trace of her former queenly identity and taming her unyielding pride, she disguised herself as an ordinary, timid mortal, lingering on the fringes of the wolf territory now fully under Kane’s control. The Kane of today was no longer the dependent warrior who had once relied on her. He had seized her throne and risen as the undisputed Alpha Lord of the entire wolf clan, ruling over vast territories with absolute power of life and death over all his kind