Introduction

The antiseptic smell of the hospital and the relentless rain were the last things I remembered from my past life. That' s where it ended-my body hollowed by grief, my spirit eroded by depression after losing my baby in a hurricane.

But on my deathbed, a final, cruel truth echoed from outside my room: my husband, Mark, and his childhood sweetheart, Lisa, conspired to destroy me. They admitted using their own daughter, Chloe, as bait in the storm, knowing my "bleeding heart" would save her, ensuring I' d miscarry and become a "barren mule."

They rejoiced in how I' d raised Chloe, their daughter, completely oblivious to their monstrous scheme. I died with their laughter ringing in my ears, my last breath a ragged gasp of pure, undiluted hatred.

Then, I gasped again, a deep, full breath. My eyes snapped open. I wasn' t dying. I was in my living room, the wind howling, a news anchor warning of a Category 8 hurricane.

My hand flew to my stomach-a faint, familiar warmth. My baby was still there. I was still pregnant. I was alive, reborn to the day it all began.

The trap was being set again. I knew who was out there, waiting to be "saved." My nine-year-old son, Ethan, tugged my sleeve, pointing with manufactured fear.

"Mom, look! There's a little girl out there! In the water! She's going to drown!"