I died for three days. My boyfriend got a new girlfriend in two.
She's wearing my pink cardigan, sitting at our first-date table, having a candlelit dinner with my Zane. My apron on her body, my sangria recipe on her lips, even our private nickname "Z" rolling off her tongue.
I'm Harper Wells, 20, Olive Garden server, killed in a car crash. She's Brielle Kim, 22, Instagram influencer, my perfect replacement.
The kicker? The night I died, I was rushing back to tell Zane I was pregnant. I had chocolate cake, photo album, even a voice memo practicing how to say "we're having a baby." But when I called saying I had important news, he said: "Harper, I'm with Brielle right now, she's having a crisis and needs help. Can we talk tomorrow?"
I died pregnant with his child in the rain while he was comforting another woman.
Now this Brielle didn't just steal my boyfriend—she stole my section, my customers, my uniform, my cocktail recipe, even our romantic traditions. My coworkers watch her live-post from our "first date spot," wearing my clothes for photos, using the hand signal I taught Zane to say "I love you."
Three days. My entire identity completely overwritten by a girl with a good camera in three days.
But now I'm back, and I'm remembering every detail from that night. Including why Zane didn't answer my calls. Including when they really started. Including...

She Inherited My Boyfriend

Tyler quickly scrolls through Zane's messages with Brielle.
Monday: "Great first day! Thanks for all the help."
Tuesday: "Want to grab coffee after shift?"
Wednesday: "Last night was amazing."
Thursday: "Can't stop thinking about you."
Friday: "You free tonight? Have something special planned."
"S...

Chapter 6