Second Chance, Deadly Trap

One moment, I was just Sarah, pulling weeds from my tomato patch under the hot Nebraska sun, living the quiet farm life I' d painstakingly built.

The next, a chilling wave of memory, raw and horrifying, washed over me – memories of another life, a past I' d lived and died.

And with that horrific clarity, I saw him again: Mark, my husband, the man who disappeared seven years ago, now limping up our driveway, playing the pathetic, broken-down prodigal son.

My heart didn't leap; it solidified into a cold, hard stone, because I remembered everything he'd done in that other life.