Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 63289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Ryan blinked. “They’re. . .not yours. . .”
I slung the panties at him. “Told you. I am not fucking your husband, so keep sleuthing!”
Claire touched her forehead. “Maya, this was so unnecessary on so many levels.”
I glared at her. “I have now died twice and repeated this fucking moment three times so excuse me if I don’t practice decorum.”
Claire widened her eyes. “What?”
“For all I know, I can do whatever the hell I want and some guy will just show up and kill me, and I’ll return. And none of what I did before will even matter. None of it! The diamond rose will disappear.” I touched my lips. “The kiss. . .”
Bernard shook his head. “I have so many questions.”
“Me too, Bernard.” I leaned back in my seat. “Me too.”
Tears spilled from Ryan’s eyes.
Breathing in and out fast, Horace tore off his mask. “I. . .feel. . .like I’m. . .having a. . .heart attack.”
M.J. sang, filling the air with vibrant lyrics that no one probably was listening to.
Shi glanced my way a few times, but overall everyone kept their gazes off me. By now she had fixed the mask on her face.
There was a minute where I spotted Bernard whispering something to Claire, and her patting his lap.
Who is killing me? And what did I do to deserve it?
When the limo pulled up to the Manor, I was the first one out of there.
Fuck all of them! Fuck this limo! Fuck this party!
I stepped out, avoided the puddle, and stomped off.
No one rushed after me.
Surely, they were just as done with me as I was with them.
I didn’t even glance over my shoulder to see if Ryan had decided to go to the party this time or not.
Who the hell is trying to kill me? I doubt I know anyone at this party, so is it one of them? My so-called friends?
How could I not think one of my friends were the ones behind it. That made way more sense than some crazy person deciding that I was the one he wanted to kill.
Even more, the person kept wearing a mask and huge black cloak. Each time it happened, I didn’t really spend time trying to assess the height.
For all I knew, it could have been a woman instead of a man. That meant that all of my friends would be suspects.
I climbed the grand steps leading to the mansion’s entrance.
I need to figure out who keeps trying to kill me. If I do. . .then maybe this moment will stop repeating itself.
That thought calmed me. Whereas once I assumed I was cursed, now I guessed that I was being given some divine blessing.
Does God want me to figure this out? Perhaps, he saw all of this as unfair and was like. . .nah. . .let me give her a chance to solve it.
Then, everything should be fine.
Right?
In the end, I couldn’t think of any other option. If I discovered who killed me and stopped them, then I should be able to continue the night and see the next day.
I would see tomorrow.
For these past several years, I had been in a rush, meeting deadlines and trying to quickly get things done.
Back then, the idea of tomorrow loomed with unknown fears and more mounting responsibilities. Dread always filled me. Tomorrow was a dark shadow hanging overhead. It kept creeping closer and closer with each passing minute, reminding me of my immortality and how fast time went by.
And I wasn’t just talking about work. The clock had been ticking on getting married and having children. The clock had been ticking on my mother’s gradual aging, having more grays in her hair than black.
In the depths of many nights, I found myself dreading tomorrow’s light. Many moments, I lay in bed with the weight of tomorrow’s worries pressing heavy on my heart and tearing me apart.
And now. . .all I yearned for was tomorrow.
Because now, tomorrow was something else. It was a blank canvas, waiting to be painted with colors of new hope and dreams. It was a new day, with new opportunities to create, explore, and play in this huge world that I could no longer access.
Now I understood that tomorrow was a gift, not to be dreaded but opened.
Not to be feared, but hoped for.
I got to the top of the stairs with a newfound confidence filling my chest.
If I solve my own murder mystery, then I will see tomorrow.
The door opened.
Ethan stepped out and almost bumped into me. “Ms. Johnson? You’re here?”
How did he know it was me? I’m wearing a mask.
Before it made sense for him to recognize me by the limo. The Manor’s staff would know who was coming on and off of the property. Surely, somehow it was announced when our limo appeared.
But he spotted me with the mask on as I was by the door.