Erased, Not Forgotten

I died in Montana, exiled to a sanatorium by my husband, the President, who called me "unstable" because a broken heart dared to challenge his polished image.

One moment I was staring at a cracked ceiling, the next I was a ghost, bound to my husband, Julian, watching him sign documents in the Oval Office, oblivious to my spectral presence.

He had no idea I was dead, no idea I was trapped, a silent witness to his new life with Savannah Reed, his predatory mistress, who now occupied my White House, my roles, and even my family's legacy.