My Husband Killed Me In His Dreams

I stared at the words until my eyes began to sting.

She was supposed to die.

My fingers tightened around the photograph.

Who had written that?

And who was "she"?

The woman in the picture?

I looked at her scratched-out face again.

A strange uneasiness settled over me.

I couldn't explain it, but the photograph felt personal.

Not simply because Sebastian had hidden it.

There was something about the woman herself.

Something familiar.

I placed the photograph on my bedside table and tried to sleep.

I couldn't.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her standing beside Sebastian.

Then I saw the knife.

Then the bedroom from my dream.

Then the scratch on the door.

My thoughts kept circling the same questions.

Who was the woman?

Why had Sebastian hidden her photograph?

And why did someone believe she was supposed to die?

Eventually, I got out of bed.

Sebastian was still asleep.

I quietly took my phone and walked into the bathroom.

I locked the door.

Then I searched for Sebastian's name.

I had already found the old article, but this time I searched more carefully.

I added words like wife, death, mansion, and ten years ago.

Page after page appeared.

Most were useless.

Then I found another article.

The headline made my heart stop.

BILLIONAIRE SEBASTIAN BLACKWOOD LOSES WIFE IN TRAGIC INCIDENT

I opened it.

My eyes moved quickly over the screen.

Sebastian Blackwood.

Married.

Wife.

Serena Vale.

The name immediately made my stomach tighten.

I read the article again.

Serena Vale, wife of billionaire businessman Sebastian Blackwood, was reportedly killed following a violent incident at the Blackwood family mansion ten years ago.

My hands went cold.

Violent incident.

Not an accident.

I continued reading.

The article said police had been called to the mansion shortly after midnight.

There had been blood inside the house.

A knife had been found.

Sebastian had been questioned.

The investigation had attracted attention because Serena had reportedly disappeared under mysterious circumstances.

I stopped reading.

My heart was beating too fast.

Disappeared?

That wasn't what Sebastian had told me.

He had said his first wife died.

I searched for another article.

Then another.

Some claimed Serena had died.

Others said her body had never been publicly identified.

The information was confusing.

But one fact remained the same.

Her name was Serena Vale.

I whispered the name.

"Serena Vale."

Something inside my head suddenly shifted.

A sharp pain shot behind my eyes.

I grabbed the sink.

A memory flashed.

A dark hallway.

Someone running.

Bare feet against cold marble.

A woman screaming.

Then a man's voice.

"Run!"

I gasped.

The vision disappeared.

I stared at my reflection.

My face looked pale.

"What is happening to me?"

I splashed water onto my face.

I tried to convince myself it was nothing.

A dream.

A random memory.

Anything.

But deep down, I knew it wasn't.

The next morning, I confronted Sebastian.

He was sitting at the dining table when I walked in.

He looked up from his phone.

"Good morning."

I didn't answer.

I placed the photograph in front of him.

His eyes immediately went to it.

Then I placed my phone beside it.

The article was open on the screen.

His expression changed.

"Where did you find that?"

"Does it matter?"

"Serena."

"Who is Serena Vale?"

He became completely still.

The room suddenly felt too quiet.

I watched him carefully.

He didn't ask why I was searching.

He didn't pretend not to know the name.

He simply stared at me.

Finally, he said, "She was my wife."

The words landed heavily.

I swallowed.

"Your first wife."

"Yes."

"She's the woman in this photograph."

"Yes."

"She's dead."

His eyes lowered.

"Yes."

I pointed at my phone.

"Then why does this article say she disappeared?"

He didn't answer.

"Why does it say the police never found her body?"

His jaw tightened.

"Because there were questions about what happened."

"You told me she died in an accident."

"I didn't want to discuss her."

"That isn't an answer."

He pushed his phone aside.

"What do you want me to say?"

"The truth."

His eyes met mine.

"I've already told you what happened."

"No."

My voice shook.

"You told me what you wanted me to know."

Silence.

I felt tears burning behind my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.

"Why does she look like me?"

Sebastian looked at the photograph.

For a long moment, he said nothing.

Then he whispered, "You look like her."

My chest tightened.

"How much?"

His eyes returned to mine.

"Enough."

I laughed bitterly.

"So you married a woman who looks exactly like your dead wife?"

"You're not a replacement."

"Then what am I?"

"You."

His answer was quiet.

"You are Serena."

I stared at him.

The words should have meant something.

Instead, they confused me even more.

"What was she like?"

Sebastian looked away.

"She was stubborn."

A faint sadness crossed his face.

"She argued with me about everything."

Despite myself, I almost smiled.

"Sounds familiar."

He looked at me.

For the first time that morning, something almost warm appeared in his eyes.

Then it disappeared.

"What happened to her?"

His face hardened.

"She died."

"How?"

He didn't answer.

"Sebastian."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"You have to."

"No."

His voice was firm.

I stared at him.

"Why?"

"Because some things should stay buried."

A chill passed through me.

"Maybe they should."

I picked up the photograph.

"But this doesn't feel buried."

I walked away.

⸻

I spent the rest of the day thinking about what Sebastian had said.

You are Serena.

It should have been comforting.

Instead, it sounded like a warning.

I couldn't stop thinking about the strange flashes I had experienced.

The dark hallway.

The cold marble.

The screaming woman.

The voice telling someone to run.

What if they weren't random?

What if they belonged to me?

I returned to my room and searched through the few personal documents I kept there.

Birth certificate.

School records.

Old photographs.

Nothing seemed unusual.

Then I noticed something.

There was a gap.

A huge one.

I had photographs from childhood.

School photographs.

University photographs.

Pictures from different stages of my life.

But there was almost nothing from the years around ten years ago.

I stared at the empty space in the album.

Why?

I couldn't remember.

I tried.

I closed my eyes and searched my mind.

Nothing.

Just darkness.

A headache began forming behind my eyes.

I opened my eyes again.

My breathing had become shallow.

I had always thought my memory was normal.

Now I wasn't so sure.

I picked up my phone and searched for medical records.

Then I remembered something Sebastian had said months ago when I once asked about my old documents.

Some of your records were lost.

At the time, I hadn't questioned it.

Now I wondered why.

I returned to the study.

I needed answers.

I searched the shelves again.

This time, I wasn't looking for the woman.

I was looking for me.

And after nearly an hour, I found a folder tucked behind several old files.

My name was written on it.

SERENA BLACKWOOD.

My heart jumped.

I opened it.

Most of the papers were ordinary.

Insurance information.

Medical forms.

Identification documents.

Then I found something else.

A medical record from ten years ago.

My hands began to shake before I even opened it.

I unfolded the paper.

The first line made my entire body go cold.

Patient Name: Serena Vale.

I stopped breathing.

I read it again.

And again.

The name didn't change.

My name.

Or at least, the name that had suddenly begun appearing everywhere.

I continued reading.

The patient had suffered severe injuries.

Head trauma.

Major blood loss.

Emergency surgery.

The date was ten years ago.

My heart hammered in my chest.

I turned the page.

There were handwritten notes from a doctor.

Most of them were difficult to read.

But one sentence stood out.

I stared at it.

Patient survived.

My fingers went numb.

If Serena Vale had survived...

then Sebastian had lied to me.

I looked at the photograph in my other hand.

The woman whose face had been scratched away.

The woman Sebastian once loved.

The woman everyone believed had died ten years ago.

And suddenly, the question wasn't who she was.

It was much worse.

What happened to Serena Vale after she survived?