

On the eve of closing a billion-dollar funding round, Damon Jones is betrayed by the two people closest to him. His girlfriend Alicia Watkins and his best friend Lewis Baird orchestrate a setup. They get him drunk, trick him into driving, frame him for drunk driving, seize control of his company, and ultimately take his life. When fate gives Damon a second chance, he remembers every detail of the scheme.

Three years ago, an earthquake struck. Lydia's husband and son died saving everyone in their building. Their neighbor Eleanor gradually forgot their sacrifice in the years that followed. For three years, Lydia has quietly honored her loved ones' memory, while Eleanor has come to see Lydia as a symbol of bad luck. Now Eleanor's son Marcus is about to hold his wedding. Lydia decides to make everyone understand in her own striking way that honoring the departed is honoring life itself, and that remembering an act of kindness keeps warmth alive in people's hearts.

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.

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.

When the zombie apocalypse erupts, Mike is murdered by his wife Sarah and best friend Ethan. He wakes as a zombie with a bizarre romance system: win women's affection, earn powers. His target, Jessie, keeps trying to kill him, until desire, revenge, and undead armies turn enemies into lovers.

On Mia Larson’s birthday, her mother, who had been her anchor, passed away. Her husband, Nick Ford, did not celebrate her birthday, nor did he attend her mother’s funeral. Instead, he was at the airport, picking up his one true love.

Grace chooses mahjong over her granddaughter, leaving Coco in the kitchen. Coco manages a brief call to her mother Rita before her smartwatch dies, during which Rita senses something is wrong. Desperate, Rita repeatedly calls her mother-in-law, but the noise of the mahjong table drowns out her calls. She then contacts her husband Leo, only to be dismissed while he is with his first love. By the time Rita finds Coco, the child has succumbed to gas poisoning. Leo refuses to accept the tragedy born of neglect and misplaced loyalty until he sees Coco's portrait at the funeral home.

With only two months left to live, the White Witch Morwenna ruthlessly forces her paralyzed adopted daughter, Lyra, to walk again. Hating the woman she believes ruined her life, Lyra has no idea that Morwenna sold her family's ancestral recipe, concealed her terminal illness, and sacrificed everything for her. By the time Lyra finally learns the truth and calls her "Mom," it's already too late.

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.

After being brutally murdered—her body dismembered and scattered—Bella's soul returns home on Christmas Eve. There, she finds her biological parents, Paul and Evelyn, doting on her adopted sister, Anna, while remaining cold and indifferent toward her, completely unaware that their own daughter is already dead. When Bella's body is discovered, Evelyn, a forensic examiner, and Paul, the police chief, lead the investigation—yet fail to recognize the victim as their own child