I never thought the boys would cling to me like I was their own mother—until their father noticed the scar only his dead wife should have had.

Morning came too soon.

I woke up in Andrew's bed, with Noah curled against my chest and Liam's arm thrown over my waist.

Andrew was sitting in the armchair by the window, watching us.

He had been awake all night.

I could see it in his eyes.

"Good morning," he whispered.

"Good morning," I whispered back.

Noah stirred.

He opened his eyes, blinked, and smiled when he saw me.

"Mommy," he mumbled.

My heart felt full to bursting.

Liam woke up next.

He sat up, rubbed his eyes, and looked at Andrew.

"Is she really staying?" he asked.

Andrew nodded.

"She's really staying."

A knock on the door.

We all froze.

"Andrew?"

Vivian's voice.

Sickly sweet.

Calculating.

Andrew stood up.

He smoothed his shirt.

"Stay here," he said quietly to me. "Let me handle this."

He walked to the door and opened it just a crack.

I couldn't see Vivian, but I could hear her.

"Darling, are you feeling better? Last night was... upsetting. I've made breakfast. The boys need to eat before their lessons."

"The boys aren't going anywhere today," Andrew said. His voice was carefully neutral. "And neither is Elena."

There was a pause.

"Elena?" Vivian laughed, sharp and bitter. "Her name is Maria. You're still playing along with this fantasy?"

"Her name is Elena," Andrew said, cold and final. "And until I say otherwise, she is a guest in this house. She will be treated with respect. Is that clear?"

Vivian didn't answer for a long moment.

When she did, her voice was ice.

"Perfectly clear. I'll have the maid set an extra place at the table."

She walked away.

Andrew closed the door and leaned against it.

He let out a breath.

"She's furious," he said.

"Good," I said. "Let her be furious. Furious people make mistakes."

We got the boys dressed.

Andrew had sent someone out overnight to buy me clothes—nothing fancy, just something that wasn't a maid's uniform.

I looked in the mirror.

The woman staring back at me wasn't the maid anymore.

She wasn't the ghost either.

She was Elena.

Scarred.

Tired.

But alive.

And ready to fight.

We went downstairs to the dining room.

Vivian was sitting at the head of the table.

The table that used to be mine.

She was wearing a cream-colored dress that looked like it cost more than I had earned in three months as a maid.

Her hair was perfectly styled.

Her makeup was flawless.

But her eyes were cold.

She watched us walk in.

Andrew pulled out a chair for me.

Then one for each boy.

He sat at the other end of the table.

Opposite Vivian.

The message was clear.

"Breakfast is served," Vivian said. Her voice was like glass. "I hope it's to your liking, Elena."

She practically spat my name.

"Thank you," I said calmly.

The boys ate quickly.

They kept glancing at me, like they were afraid I would disappear if they looked away.

Vivian watched me the entire time.

"So," she said, cutting into her eggs. "Tell me. How long did you practice? How many hours did you spend studying Elena's life, memorizing her scars, learning her stupid little song?"

I put down my fork.

"I didn't have to practice anything," I said. "I am Elena."

Vivian laughed.

It was a horrible sound.

"Prove it," she said. "Anyone can learn a song. Anyone can fake a scar. Tell me something only Elena would know. Tell me about your first date with Andrew. Where did you go?"

I looked at Andrew.

He nodded slightly.

"We went to that little Italian place on Fifth Street," I said. "The one with the red checkered tablecloths. You ordered spaghetti and got sauce on your white shirt. Andrew tried to help you clean it up and made it worse. You laughed so hard you snort-laughed, and you were so embarrassed you wanted to leave. But Andrew told you it was the cutest thing he had ever seen."

Vivian's smile faltered.

"That's in the old photo albums," she said quickly. "Anyone could—"

"After dinner," I continued, "we walked through the park. Andrew told me he loved me for the first time. And I told him I loved him too. And then he proposed. With a ring he had made himself. A tiny silver band with a single diamond that his mother had given him."

Vivian went pale.

That wasn't in any photo album.

That was just ours.

"He proposed to you on the first date?" she said, trying to sound skeptical.

"No," I said. "That was our third date. But it felt like the first because the first two we were so nervous we could barely speak. The first date, he spilled wine on my dress. The second, he forgot his wallet and I had to pay for the movies. The third, everything was perfect."

Andrew was watching me with tears in his eyes.

He remembered.

Vivian stood up.

Her chair scraped loudly against the floor.

"You researched this," she said. Her voice was shaking now. "You found someone who knew. You paid them to tell you."

"Did I pay someone to carry these children for nine months?" I asked. I looked at Liam. "Did I pay someone to know that Liam was born with a tiny birthmark on his hip, shaped like a star? That Noah refused to take a bottle for the first three months and would only nurse if I sang to him?"

Liam's eyes went wide.

He looked down at his hip, like he could see the birthmark through his clothes.

Vivian backed away from the table.

"You're insane," she whispered. "You're actually insane. Andrew, can't you see what she's doing? She's manipulating all of you. She wants our money. She wants our life."

"Our life?" Andrew stood up. His voice was like thunder. "This was never your life, Vivian. You stole it. Every single bit of it. And I'm going to prove it."

Vivian's face crumpled.

For just a second, I saw fear in her eyes.

Then it was gone.

Replaced by cold, hard calculation.

"Prove it then," she said. She picked up her purse from the table. "Prove whatever you want. But until you do, I am still your wife. And I am not going anywhere."

She walked out of the dining room.

We heard the front door slam.

Andrew let out a breath.