THE GIRL WHO DIED TWICE
Chapter One: The Woman at the Funeral
The first time Amara attended her own funeral, she was twenty-six, alive and utterly confused.
Three days earlier, an anonymous message had appeared on her phone:
“If you want to discover the truth about your family, come to St. Peter’s Church on Friday. Wear black. Don’t let your mother see you.”
Curiosity led her there.
Inside the church, mourners surrounded a white coffin decorated with roses. Then she spotted Nathaniel, her fiancé, standing beside it.
“Forgive me, Amara,” he whispered. “I promised I would protect you.”
Her blood ran cold.
Why was he mourning someone with her name?
Before she could question him, her mother noticed her and screamed.
“You’re not supposed to be here!”
Amara stepped forward. “Whose funeral is this?”
Suddenly, a voice came from behind her.
“Ask your mother why she buried me twice.”
Amara turned.
A woman stood at the entrance.
Same face. Same eyes. Same scar.
It was as though she was staring into a mirror.
Nathaniel closed his eyes and whispered:
“God help us. The wrong sister is alive.”