The Obituary That Married Me

Chapter 1: The Woman Who Died The first time Isla Hart learned she was dead, she was standing in line for coffee. “Large caramel latte for” The barista frowned. “Um… Miss?” Isla looked up from her phone. “Sorry, your card was declined.” “That’s impossible.” She tried again. Transaction Declined. A few people behind her started complaining. Feeling Embarrassed, Isla pulled out another card. Declined. A third. Declined again. “There must be a mistake.” The cashier gave her an apologetic smile. “Maybe call your bank?” “I will.” Leaving the café empty-handed, Isla immediately dialed customer service. After verifying her identity, the representative suddenly went silent. “Hello?” “…I’m sorry, ma’am.” “What’s wrong?” “Our records indicate this account holder is deceased.” Isla laughed. “I’m sorry?” “It says here that Miss Isla Hart passed away yesterday at 8:42 p.m.” The smile disappeared from her face. “…Excuse me?” “I’m sorry, ma’am. Your accounts have already been frozen.” Isla frowned. “Frozen? Why?” There was a brief pause before the representative spoke again. “Our records indicate that the account holder passed away yesterday.” Silence. “I’m sorry… what did you just say?” “The account is registered as belonging to a deceased customer.” A laugh escaped her before she could stop it. “That’s ridiculous. I’m standing on the sidewalk talking to you.” “I understand how confusing this must be.” “No, you don’t. Check again.” “I’ve checked twice.” Her fingers tightened around the phone. “There has to be another Isla Hart.” “The information matches your date of birth and identification details.” A cold feeling settled in her stomach. “So what am I supposed to do?” “You’ll need to visit one of our branches with a valid form of identification. They’ll be able to investigate further.” Before she could argue, the call ended. For a long moment, Isla stood there, staring at the dark screen. Dead? The word echoed in her mind. Someone, somewhere, had declared her dead. And every system seemed to believe it. “Miss, we’ll need you to come with us.” “What? Why?” “The identity you’re using belongs to a deceased citizen.” “I’m not using an identity!” Isla snapped. “I am Isla Hart!” People were staring now. Phones were already coming out. One guard lowered his voice. “If this is some kind of fraud, cooperating will make things easier.” Fraud? She wanted to scream. Instead, she dug into her bag and pulled out her passport. The manager arrived. He opened it. Compared it to his screen. Then his face turned pale. “…This can’t be.” “What?” “You need to see this.” He slowly rotated the monitor toward her. Across the screen, in bold red letters, were three words. STATUS: DECEASED Date of Death: Yesterday. Cause: Pending Investigation. Her knees nearly gave out. She stumbled out of the bank in disbelief. None of it made sense. She hadn’t been in an accident. She wasn’t sick. Yesterday she’d gone to work, eaten dinner alone, watched a movie, and fallen asleep. So who had died? Or… Who wanted the world to believe she had? Her phone buzzed. It was her best friend, Naomi. The moment Isla answered, Naomi burst into tears. Her phone buzzed. Naomi. Relief washed over Isla. Finally, someone who could prove she wasn’t losing her mind. She answered immediately. “Naomi.” A sob greeted her. “Where are you?” “I’m at the bank.” “…No.” The single word was barely audible. “What do you mean, ‘no’?” “Where are you… really?” Isla frowned. “I just told you. I’m standing outside the bank.” Naomi’s breathing grew uneven. “No,” she whispered. “You can’t be.” Her heart beating fast, mind thinking of a lot of things all together “Naomi, you’re scaring me. What is going on?” Silence. Long enough for Isla to wonder if the call had dropped. Then Naomi spoke again, her voice shaking. “Isla…” “Yes?” “I went to your funeral this morning.” Everything around Isla seemed to stop. The traffic. The conversations drifting down the street. Even the air in her lungs. “…What did you just say?” Everything around Isla stopped. The traffic. The voices. Even the wind. “…What?” “I saw your coffin.” Naomi sobbed harder. “I watched them bury you.” Cold spread through Isla’s body. “No…” “There were flowers everywhere.” “No.” Naomi was crying too hard to stop. “Your parents were there.” Isla shook her head as if Naomi could see her. “You’re lying.” “I wish I was.” “No.” “I watched them lower your coffin into the ground.” A sharp pain gripped Isla’s chest. “Stop.” There were so many people,” Naomi said between shaky breaths. “Your parents… your cousins… even people from work.” Isla pressed a hand against her forehead. “Naomi, stop. This isn’t funny.” “I’m not joking.” A lump formed in Isla’s throat. “Then whose funeral did you go to?” “I thought it was yours.” Silence stretched between them. Then Naomi took a slow, unsteady breath. “There was someone else there.” “Who?” “The man standing beside your coffin.” Isla frowned. “What man?” “The one everyone kept offering condolences to.” “I don’t understand.” Naomi hesitated. “They called him your husband.” Isla let out a nervous laugh. “My husband?” “Yes.” “I’ve never been married.” “I know.” “Then why would anyone say that?” “Because…” Naomi’s voice cracked. “He signed all the paperwork.” A chill raced down Isla’s spine. “What paperwork?” “The funeral arrangements.” Another pause. “And the burial permit.” Isla’s grip tightened around her phone. “Under what name?” Naomi whispered the answer. “Adrian Vale. Husband of the deceased.” For a heartbeat, Isla forgot how to breathe. “That’s impossible.” “I wish it were.” “I don’t know anyone named Adrian Vale.” “I didn’t think you did either.” The silence that followed was louder than anything either of them could have said. For several seconds, Isla remained frozen, the phone pressed against her ear. A husband? Someone had buried her. Someone she had never met. Beloved Wife of Adrian Vale. She stared at the words until they blurred. Wife? She had never even heard that name before. With trembling fingers, she opened the obituary. Then she saw the wedding photograph. A man in a tailored black suit stood beside her. His arm around her waist. A wedding ring on her finger. They looked like a happily married couple. Only… She had absolutely no memory of that day. Or the man smiling beside her. Across the city… Inside the top floor of Vale Global Holdings… A man stood before floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the skyline. His assistant entered quietly. “Mr. Vale.” The man didn’t turn around. “Has she seen it?” “Yes.” “And?” “She’s exactly where you predicted she’d be.” A faint smile crossed his lips. “Good.” The assistant hesitated. “Sir… what if she remembers?” This time, Adrian Vale turned. His icy gray eyes held not a trace of emotion. “She won’t.” “And if she does?” He picked up the framed obituary from his desk. His thumb brushed over Isla’s printed photograph. Then he spoke six chilling words. “Then we’ll bury her again.” End of Chapter 1