I Called For Help In Cold Room But My Husband Called Me A Liar Chapter 07

I Called For Help In Cold Room But My Husband Called Me A Liar Chapter 07

The car pulled up to the chapel. Thomas laced his fingers through Sasha’s and led her to the center of the altar. A projector screen behind them flickered to life, cycling through photos of the pair.

The first year after my death: Thomas buried himself in work to numb his grief, waking screaming most nights to cradle my memorial portrait and cry.

The Second year: Sasha began lingering around his office more and more frequently, inserting herself into

every part of his life.

The Third year: Thomas boxed up every last possession of mine and asked Sasha to marry him.

His eyes lit up brighter every time he glanced at her. No one spared a single thought about where I’d vanished

The man I loved, and my own blood family, had wiped me clean from their lives entirely.
The slideshow continued. Thomas leaned in toward Sasha, his voice soft with remorse.

“I’m sorry, Sasha. I let Cecilia manipulate me back then, and it blinded me to how unfairly I treated you. But

fate brought you back to me, and I’m grateful every day.”

Sasha paused, about to reply-until a collective gasp erupted from the wedding guests. She followed their

shocked gazes to the screen, which now displayed hard proof of her mother driving my birth mother to

suicide, along with endless records of Sasha bullying and mistreating me.

All the color drained from her face in an instant, tears spilling as she collapsed against Thomas’s chest,

clutching her heart.

“Tom… I know Cecilia’s bitter enough to ruin our wedding. But she’s the one who abandoned you three years

ago, not me.”

Nolan sprinted onto the altar and ripped the projector cord out of the wall. Thomas wrapped Sasha tight in

his arms, his face dark with unbridled rage.

“Cecilia.” He ground my name between his teeth. “If I ever track you down, I’ll make you regret every choice

you’ve ever made.”

I watched his furious outburst and felt a hollow, bitter laugh bubble up inside my ghost.

The profiler who built his career on hard, unbiased evidence had convicted me entirely off one single tearful

story from Sasha.

He’d never catch me, though. Cecilia had died trapped in that freezer three years ago.

Nolan and Thomas’s security team combed every inch of the chapel stage, leaving no corner unchecked-but

they found no trace of me at all.

When an assistant reported the empty search, Thomas tugged at his tie, irritated beyond patience.

“She hates Sasha more than anything. This whole stunt’s her petty revenge for our wedding. If she refuses to come out and apologize, we’ll force her hand.”

“Release a statement claiming Mrs. Shawn was the homewrecker all along. Dig her grave up from the

cemetery grounds.”

No. Please don’t. Mom deserved peace in death; I couldn’t bear the thought of her resting place desecrated.

I threw myself at Thomas, screaming and begging him to stop-my hands passing straight through his chest yet he couldn’t hear a single word of my silent pleas.

I hovered overhead, helpless, as an assistant’s video feed played before his eyes. Mom’s ash urn lay discarded on the dirt, covered in mud and filth, strangers crowding around to spit insults and condemn her

name.