I Died. Then He Saw Me Again

Before the divorce, I wrote fairy tales.

After the divorce, I exiled myself to Detroit and became a bestselling horror novelist.

My readers asked why my style changed so drastically. I told them, "Before you die, you have to get a little wild."

The basement of this villa was my forbidden zone.

Until the agent brought in a new tenant, Ethan Hayes, my ex-husband, whom I hadn't seen in four years.

He still had that cop's sharp gaze, steady and stern, but beside him was a five-year-old boy whose eyes were exactly like his.

We had only been divorced for four years.