The two words continued to hang in the air while Mira could not help but think her ears had to have picked up on the wrong words.
Because there was absolutely no way the word husband ca out of this man’s mouth.
She stared at him, her mouth slightly open, while her brain felt like a computer that had just been unplugged.
The man, on the other hand, remained seated beside her, perfectly calm. It was like he’d just told her the sky was green and was now waiting for her to agree.
His expression was unreadable, but there was a smugness in his eyes, as if he was saying, you’re asking sothing you already know about.
The initial shock began to muffle, boiling into sothing hot and angry in her chest.
"No," she finally whispered, the word scraping out of her throat.
His eyebrow lifted a fraction of an inch, like he was asking a silent question.
"No," she said again, louder this ti as her voice gained strength from the pure ridiculous insanity of it all.
"Never. I would never, ever marry anyone. And definitely not soone like you who looks at like I’m a bug he’s about to step on."
Mira didn’t bother waiting for a reply. The panic and confusion seed to give her the strength her new tired body shouldn’t have as she fumbled for the ridiculously heavy and polished door handle, yanked it open, and practically fell out of the car.
She expected him to stop her. To grab her or even say sothing. But he did none of that.
She stumbled back and slamd the door shut. Through the tinted window, she could make out his silhouette and she could tell he hadn’t moved an inch.
And she could have sworn that she saw the faintest ghost of that cold, terrifying smirk on his lips yet again.
Why on earth isn’t he saying anything else or trying to explain himself? Heck! I don’t even know his na!
The thought of it all was more frightening than if he had. It was as if he was saying she was prey and he was the predator anyway.
Mira stord back into her hospital room, her heart trying to beat its way out of her chest. She could not help but start pacing while her mind raced.
Husband. Husband. HUSBAND!
It was insane. The last ti she checked, Lorena Sanders was famous for her string of celebrity boyfriends and her quotes about never settling down. She always changed n like she was changing clothes!
So how on earth would she be married, and how on earth would that have happened without anyone knowing about it?
It made no iota of sense.
And then her mind went to one of the nurous questions from the paparazzi that stuck with her.
Lorena committed suicide too. And if so, does that an she already died too? Or was she also stuck in another person’s body, trying to understand what was happening?
She went into the bathroom and stopped in front of the mirror, staring at the gorgeous haunted face staring right back.
Her soul. Lorena’s body.
None of it was making any sense at the mont, but one thing was sure. This body was in so much trouble right now and she needed to do sothing now that she owned it.
I’m Mira Carter. I’m broke. But now I’m in her body, she might be hated for whatever reason right now but she’s still rich.
Her body and face are still flawless as well, so she definitely still has everything I never had.
A wild, desperate idea flashed like a bulb in her head.
Why on earth was she freaking out about this all? Why was she even caring about so darn husband when she could just... leave?
She could simply grab everything that belonged to Lorena Sanders right now and run.
This ti, she wouldn’t be the poor girl everyone walked all over. She’d be soone with power, with the resources she needed. She’d just hide for now.
Fuck the husband! Fuck the scandals! This is my second chance at life and I’m taking it!
Her eyes landed on a sleek black garnt bag hanging on the closet door, and with trembling fingers, she unzipped it.
Inside were outfits that probably cost more than her old rent. She settled for a simple pair of dark, impeccably tailored pants and a silky cream-colored blouse.
She imdiately got out of the horrible hospital gown and slipped into the clothes. They fit perfectly. Of course they did. They belonged to this body after all.
She looked in the mirror again and the woman staring back was elegant. Almost untouchable.
A slow smile spread across her face, Lorena’s face, and for the first ti, it felt like her own.
Mira had been seeing a sleek, expensive purse by the bedside table so she rummaged through it, and she was more than elated to find Lorena’s wallet in there, stuffed with a platinum credit card, two other cards, and a driver’s license.
Her heart hamred with excitent.
"This is it!"
She marched out of her room, head high, trying to channel every icy Lorena Sanders movie character she’d ever seen.
But a nurse stepped in front of her. "Miss Sanders! You’re not yet discharged! You can’t just leave."
Mira stopped and fixed the woman with a look so cold it could freeze hell. She channeled all her pent-up anger and confusion into it.
"Move, please," she said, her voice low and surprisingly steady.
The nurse blinked, taken aback. But she quickly recovered as a nasty look crooked her face. "Well, I guess monsters heal fast," she muttered, just loud enough for Mira to hear. "The devil sure always lands on her feet."
Mira could not even understand the resentnt deep enough to let the words sting, so she simply leaned in as a cruel, sharp smile spread across her lips.
"Careful," she hissed. "The devil you gossip about can buy and sell your entire life."
The nurse’s face flushed bright red. She seed to want to talk but she had no coback, so she simply huffed and stord away.
Mira’s smirk widened. "Yeah, that’s right," she muttered. She felt invincible.
Her eyes seed to catch another nurse with her phone up recording, but Mira could not care less.
She slipped out a side entrance while ducking her head and hailed the first cab she saw.
She slid into the backseat, ignoring the way the driver eyed her in the rearview mirror a little too long. He definitely recognized her.
"Where to?" he asked in a flat tone.
"Nearest ATM," Mira said, trying to sound bored and rich. "You’ll wait. I’ll pay cash."
The driver just nodded, but she noticed him pick up his phone and start texting.
But Mira simply assud he was telling his friends about so A-list celebrity he was driving. She didn’t care.
She clutched the platinum credit card in her hand like a lifeline as she looked out the window.
"This is it! God definitely heard my prayers and answered. This ti I’m rich. I’m powerful. No one would dare step over ."
She started to imagine stacks of cash, a one-way ticket to sowhere no one knew Lorena Sanders. A beach, a new na. Freedom.
She was so done being poor and powerless.
The cab finally stopped at a bank and Mira practically floated to the ATM, her heart singing.
This was the mont. Her mont of escape.
She slid the card and typed the first pin that ca to her mind, Lorena’s birthday, one that she had seen on the ID.
And then, she prayed that she was lucky enough for the pin to be exactly that.
The machine beeped successfully and her heart soared.
"It worked!"
She pressed withdraw and a certain amount, and then imagined the whirring sound of cash coming out.
The screen flashed instead and a ssage popped up.
"INSUFFICIENT FUNDS."
She blinked. What? She must have typed it wrong, because the money she pressed was not even that much. She canceled and decided to try again, this ti a lower amount.
INSUFFICIENT FUNDS was what the screen read yet again.
No no no no.
Her throat tightened, her stomach dropped to the floor. With a shaking hand, she decided to press balance first.
The machine whirred and printed a tiny slip of paper. Mira imdiately snatched it.
"AVAILABLE BALANCE: $0.00"
Mira had to read through over and over again to make sure she was seeing right. The receipt crumpled in her fist as she felt like the world had just pulled a rug out from under her feet.
Her world, her imagined shiny new world, shattered into a million pieces.
"What the hell?" she whispered to no one at all.
Lorena Sanders was completely, utterly broke?
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