Forty-Nine Days of His Fake Amnesia Chapter 03
The death certificate was printing when Evan picked out a celebration cake with Mira.
Mira pointed at the sample book. “Ninety-nine pearls. One for each grievance.”
Evan flipped a page. “Tacky.”
She pouted. “Fine. Ninety-nine white roses. I want her to hand-deliver them.”
“Fine.”
I stood at the shop entrance. Watched them debate petal colors.
Meanwhile, the healers at Moonlight Medical were pulling the sheet over my face.
Evan’s Beta, Caleb Rowe, showed up shaking.
“Where’s Luna Naomi?”
The nurse handed him the form. “Eight twenty-seven. Confirmed. Sign here.”
Caleb went white. “Dead? They said it was minor injuries.”
The healer looked up. Cold.
“Shattered sternum. Ribs through the lung. Hemorrhagic shock. Brought in too late. How long did you people wait?”
Caleb couldn’t speak.
He called Evan.
Rejected.
Called again. Voicemail.
Third time. Evan picked up, annoyed. “Caleb. Make it fast.”
Caleb choked. “Alpha Evan—Moonlight Medical needs you here. Luna Naomi…”
Mira’s voice from the background. “Sweetie, what about this white dress? Like we talked about?”
Evan’s tone warmed instantly. “Beautiful. You look good in anything.”
Caleb gripped the phone. “Alpha Evan. It’s urgent.”
Evan went cold again.
“Tell Naomi she can play sick, but she’s pushing it.”
Caleb’s eyes burned. “She’s not playing. The healers need your signature.”
“Signature for what?”
“Death—”
Mira’s soft sob cut through.
“Sweetie… maybe I shouldn’t have come back. Naomi’s dragging out the hospital. She must hate me.”
Two seconds of silence.
Then Evan’s voice came back. Colder.
“Caleb. Put her on.”
Caleb stared at the morgue door. Lips white.
“Luna Naomi can’t take the call.”
“Then tell her this.” He bit off each word. “Ten tonight, I go public with Mira. If she’s smart, she posts her own statement. Says these forty-nine days were voluntary. No victim act.”
Caleb froze.
“Alpha Evan…”
“Just do it.”
The line died.
I floated beside Caleb. Watched him sink to the floor. Covered his face.
His phone buzzed. Highpine’s PR chief.
“Alpha Evan wants the apology post on Luna Naomi’s account. You have the password.”
Ten minutes later, my social media updated.
[I, Naomi Greer, voluntarily participated in the couple’s therapy program. Due to personal emotional instability causing misunderstandings, I hereby apologize to Mira Bellamy.]
The comments blew up.
[So her coma was fake after all.]
[She can’t handle losing. Trying to frame Mira with public opinion.]
[Mira, don’t let this crazy woman get to you.]
Inside Moonlight Medical, nurses wheeled my body to the morgue.
Inside Hot Springs Lodge, Mira held her phone. Smiling. Eyes wet.
“Sweetie. Naomi finally apologized.”
Evan glanced at the post. Indifferent.
“It’s about time.”
Mira leaned her head on his shoulder.
“Will you stay with me tonight? I don’t want to face the cameras alone.”
Evan shut down my account page. Ruffled her hair. “Okay.”
The apology post trended on PackNet.
The death certificate sat in a law enforcement officer’s hand.
His face was pure iron.