The Widow's Gambit

I knew my husband, Josh Perkins, had faked his death and taken on his younger twin brother's identity—but I never said a word. Instead, I went straight to the commander of the military district and filed an official report of my husband's death, requesting his name be permanently removed from the service rolls.

In my last life, my brother-in-law died in an accident. Josh gave up his rank as regimental commander, abandoned his own name, and stepped into his brother's shoes—all to spare his fragile sister-in-law from becoming a widow.

Back then, I recognized him immediately. I confronted him and demanded to know why he was pretending to be a dead man. But Josh just looked through me, cold as a winter morning.

"Riley, I know you're grieving Josh. But I'm not him. Don't mistake me for my brother."

He shielded that delicate sister-in-law of his behind him, then shoved me into the icy river and warned me not to harbor delusions.

Later, our five-year-old daughter cried, asking why her daddy didn't want her anymore. For that, she was dragged to the cowshed for "reflection"—left there, starving, for three days and nights.

My mother-in-law called me a curse, a jinx who'd killed her son, and threw my daughter and me out with nothing but the clothes on our backs.

Josh made sure everyone knew I'd "gone mad"—that I was lusting after my brother-in-law before my husband was even cold in the ground. The whole town turned their backs on us.

That last winter, I wandered the streets with my girl, dazed and numb, until the cold finally took us both.

But when I opened my eyes again, I was back. Back to the very day Josh buried his old life and stole his brother's.

"Riley, please accept my condolences. I never imagined Josh would suffer such a sudden accident…"

Josh's eyes were red, his expression filled with grief as he looked at me.

When they carried in my brother-in-law's body, I immediately burst into tears, playing along with the moment and calling him my husband.

Caleb's face was pale and stiff—he was unmistakably, irrevocably dead.

He and Josh looked identical. No one suspected Josh had stolen Caleb's identity.

After crying for a while, I wiped my eyes and said, "We can't leave the body out for long. We should hurry and have it cremated. May his soul rest in peace."

Josh agreed instantly—so eager that it was as if he couldn't wait to destroy the evidence.

As he moved the body, I saw the narrow, thin scar between his thumb and forefinger.

In my previous life, that very scar confirmed that the one still breathing was Josh.

This time, I pretended I hadn't seen a thing.

In that life, both Josh and Caleb were on disaster relief duty when Caleb suffered a fatal blow to the back of the head and died on the spot.

To prevent Catherine from becoming a widow, Josh abandoned his own rank as regimental commander