Blurb：
In the sterile silence of St. Augustine Medical Center morgue, Meredith Calloway commits an unthinkable act. Her husband, Garrett Ramsey, is dead. But grief is a luxury she can't afford. Defying his final wish to keep her away, a wish orchestrated by his parents Clarence and Beatrice Ramsey and his assistant Bryce, Meredith uncovers a chilling truth. He was waiting for another woman, Corinne Taggart. Now, using Garrett's own lifeless finger and her blood, Meredith forges his signature on a Share Transfer Agreement. This is not a story of sorrow, but of a woman's calculated revenge. Dive into a psychological thriller of betrayal, lies, and one woman's fight to reclaim what was stolen from her.Content：
§PROLOGUEThe smell hit her first.
Antiseptic and something colder, the sterile bite of refrigerated air.
Meredith Calloway stood in the morgue of St. Augustine Medical Center, the silence a heavy blanket broken only by the low hum of ventilation.
Her husband, Garrett Ramsey, lay on a stainless-steel gurney, his body covered by a stark white sheet.
Gone.
The word was a flat, dull thud in her mind.
A doctor had pronounced it just an hour ago, the culmination of a year-long battle that had hollowed out their lives.
But grief was a luxury she couldn't afford right now.
Not yet.
She peeled back the sheet, exposing his face.
Even in death, he was handsome, his features settled into a serene mask that belied the calculating mind beneath.
Her eyes fell to his hand, resting pale and still at his side.
Meredith took a deep, shuddering breath, the refrigerated air burning her lungs.
She knelt, ignoring the searing pain from her knee.
The fabric of her slacks was torn, the skin beneath raw and bleeding from a fall on the hospital steps just moments ago.
An accident born of haste.
Of desperation.
Carefully, she took Garrett’s hand.
It was cold, terrifyingly so, with the first hints of rigidity setting in.
She lifted his index finger.
Then, she did something that would have shattered the woman she was yesterday.
She pressed his cold, dead finger against the bloody wound on her own knee.
The crimson smear was obscene against his pale skin.
Her own blood, serving as a makeshift ink pad.
From her purse, she pulled a single folded document.
A Share Transfer Agreement.
Her hands didn't shake.
They were preternaturally steady as she unfolded the paper and located the signature line at the bottom.
Meredith guided his finger, stained with her blood, onto the paper.
She pressed down.
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