I died on a Tuesday. By Sunday, my widowed surgeon husband was holding hands with a girl whose chest beats with my heart. He livestreams smiles. She posts couple vlogs. The internet calls them “mom & dad.” Only I know the truth: the billionaire daddy behind her bought my death—and the transplant. Now I haunt the living as Liam, the man I loved, unspools a cold, surgical revenge that will slice through a city’s glossy façade: a hospital, a mansion, a viral lie—and a love story too dark to bless. When the operating lights flare one last time, blood, law, and love collide. This isn’t a triangle. It’s a crime scene—and my pulse is the weapon.
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1
A year after my unnatural death, my husband showed up at my grave with his new girlfriend.
A ghost from the next headstone patted my shoulder and told me to let it go.
I shook all over.
Because his new girlfriend was living on my heart.
For a whole year Liam Shaw came every week. He brought offerings, even fresh flowers.
The neighbors in the cemetery said devotion like his was rare.
I gave a bitter little laugh.
Liam brushed his thumb over the photo on my headstone, slow and careful, eyes heavy with grief and longing.
Who would have thought.
The man who once slept hugging my grave had found a new girlfriend the first week after I died.
And they were already inseparable.
I had seen the girl before. She was his patient, a pretty little thing.
When I was alive she came to see Liam almost every day. If her chest felt tight, she wanted a consult. If it felt fine, she still dropped by for an ECG.
She liked Liam. She knew he was married and came closer anyway.
Once, I was using Liam’s phone when her message popped up.
[Dr. Shaw, would you mind one more girlfriend?]
Liam pulled the phone from my hand and typed back, face blank.
[I would.]
Liam would not cheat. I was sure of that.
He had poured everything into medicine since he was a kid. It took everything I had to win him over, and in all that time I never saw him fall for anyone, male or female.
Me included.
Liam did not love me. I had always known.
He said yes when I proposed because he was used to having me at his side.
And now he had slipped into a new relationship without missing a beat.
The girl got out of the car. Her nails and lips were no longer blue. Looked like her congenital heart problem had been “fixed.”
They laced their fingers together in front of my grave.
“Ava, I’ve got good news. Liam and I are getting married next month.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of him for you.”
“Be happy where you are, okay?”
I sat on my headstone, grinding my teeth.
This was not the Liam I knew.
He took out a wet wipe, lifted her hand, and carefully cleaned the dust off her index finger.
As if he could not bear to let her touch even a speck of ash from my grave.
I pinched my own arm and pitied myself.
Liam stayed ten minutes and turned to go. When they passed me, something familiar fluttered in my chest.
Only it was not in my body. It was inside Liam’s new girlfriend.
I moved closer.
I heard the beat I knew by heart. One, two, three…
The neighbor ghost patted me again, still trying to comfort me, while I stood there stunned.
Because the heart pounding in that girl’s chest was mine.
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