care? You did it all for me!”
His friends chimed in. “Good riddance! Finally
free!”
“Too bad we missed the grand finale. I was
gonna have someone dump pig’s blood on
her at the competition!”
Ethan exploded, tackling them. “It’s your fault
she’s dead! Your stupid pranks!”
“You’re the one who wanted to prank her!
You’re the killer! Remember the laxatives in
“You’re the one who wanted to prank her!
You’re the killer! Remember the laxatives in
her tea? Making her miss her defense?”
Ethan, outnumbered, ended up in the ER.
My dad’s assistant gave me the final update:
Ethan was a pariah, self–harming, obsessed
with his “dead wife.” He’d erected a
tombstone for me, constantly visiting, the
logo of our game tattooed on his chest.
Everyone knew: Ethan Parker, the “widower,”
haunted by his lost love.
I laughed, continuing my physical therapy in
France.
Two years later. I launched my game studio in
Two years later, I launched my game studio in
France. Ashes of the Realm was ready. I
submitted it to the International Game Design
Awards under the name “Anna Jones.”
It won gold. A hit in China and overseas.
The first Chinese game designer to ever
achieve this.
The auction was in three days.
Dad was worried. “Aren’t you afraid Ethan will
find you?”
He was infamous in Beijing, the “mad
widower.” No one dared mention my name.
“He’s the one trapped in the past, not me. I’m
not afraid of anything anymore,” I said. He
smiled. “Good. If that bastard comes near
you, I’ll end him.‘
99
He’d seen every sketch of Ashes of the
Realm. He’d know.
He just never imagined I’d faked my death.
The day after the award announcement,
Ethan stood at my studio door. Gaunt, suit
hanging loose, the phoenix tattoo peeking
from his collar. The “prank 100” ring on his
finger. His eyes, dark and haunted.
“Livvy Moon,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “Congratulations on the award.”
The nickname made my skin crawl.
<
The nickname made my skin crawl.
He held out the green journal, a strained smile
on his face. “Your dream came true.”
He thought this scrapbook of our past could
win me back. I’d seen Brittany’s notes inside.
It was a lie.
