Anning's POV
Being poisoned had never exactly been on my to-do list.
"Ann, are you listening to me?" a familiar... unfamiliar voice called.
I blinked, the darkness clouding my vision slowly cleared, and I found myself staring at the man standing beside me. I took in every feature of his face.
He still looked the same. He still smelled nice. He was still the bastard that killed me.
The last thing I remembered was coughing up blood at the festival.
So...
Why was I here?
Wasn't I supposed to be unconscious? Or dead? Honestly, I wasn't too sure which one sounded more believable anymore.
But that wasn't even the strangest part.
No.
The strangest part was that... I wasn't me.
Okay, that sounded ridiculous, even inside my own head.
A few feet away from the cliff stood... me. My real body.
Meanwhile, I was standing beside Henley, my husband. The man who murdered me.
A chill crawled down my spine.
"N-no... you can't do this to me!" I watched myself scream. "This is murder!"
