Too Late, Mr. Sanchez

When she woke again, she and Jocelyn were lashed tight to chairs. Before them stretched an abandoned warehouse, and a scar-faced man with a cigarette clamped between his teeth, his whole face twisted with menace, shouted toward the door: "Ralph Sanchez, last year you cost me two of my brothers. Today we settle the account."

"I'm a fair man. You killed my brothers, so I touch your people. Even, isn't it? Today, your wife and your mistress — you only get to walk out with one."

Ralph's gaze wandered between Sarah and Jocelyn.

Jocelyn's face was frozen in terror, as if she might faint at any second.

Sarah, by contrast, stayed calm, her expression serene.

Ralph pressed his lips together and looked at Sarah. Something like guilt flickered in his eyes.

"I want the one on the right."

The one on the right was Jocelyn.

All at once Sarah remembered something Ralph had said to her in her last life: "Why don't you just go die?"

But why should she be the one to die?

Just as the kidnappers moved to untie Jocelyn, Sarah spoke, cool and even. "Since you're Ralph's enemy, you should strike where it hurts him most. And clearly, I may be his wife, but I'm not the person he cares about."

The scarred man froze for a beat, then clapped his hands and roared with laughter. "Well said. You've got some nerve."

He raised a hand, signaling his men to release Sarah.

Sarah worked her wrists loose, walked out of the abandoned warehouse, and left Jocelyn's terrified screams behind her.

"No! Don't come near me!"

"Jocelyn!"

Watching Jocelyn take the blows, Ralph lost his composure and charged in with his men.

Sarah watched only for a moment before she left. They had brought all of this on themselves.

The police arrived in time. Ralph got away with a broken arm, and Jocelyn with nothing worse than minor injuries.

Her flight left the next day. Sarah returned to the Sanchez house one last time, and after confirming there was nothing she wanted to take, she pushed open the door only to find bodyguards, fully assembled, blocking her way.

Ralph stepped out of the shadows, his voice low and heavy:

"Sarah, Jocelyn lost a big patch of skin off her arm. She hasn't stopped crying. Could you, could you give Jocelyn a graft? The doctor says out of all the available donors, only you and she are a match."

Sarah refused without hesitation. "No."

She let out a short laugh, her voice like a blade. "Ralph, when she locked me in that freezer, why didn't you tell her to stop? She gets one cut and you're so heartbroken you want me to patch her skin? Why don't you tell her to give me back my child?"

Ralph's expression turned cold. "Sarah, Jocelyn suffered in your place. You owe her this."

At his signal, the bodyguards pinned Sarah down, hauled her into the hospital, and got her onto an operating table.

"Get off me!"

"Ralph, this is unlawful confinement! Have you lost your mind?"

Ralph tried to soothe her. "Sarah, I'll make it up to you."

Sarah fought with everything she had, but it changed nothing. When the graft blade came down, all she felt was cold and numb.

After the long procedure, Sarah drifted under the anesthesia until the next day.

Her last thought before going under was that this time, unlawful confinement plus deliberate bodily harm — this time no lawyer, however good, could save Ralph.

When she woke, she was on her feet at once, rushing toward Jocelyn's room, only to reach the doorway and find it empty.

Ralph's assistant walked in and explained. "Mrs. Sanchez, Mr. Sanchez took Miss Winfield to the temple to pray for blessings."

Sarah gave the faintest nod. "Fine."

She lingered no longer and turned to leave.

"Mrs. Sanchez, where are you going?"

Sarah didn't look back. "Stop calling me Mrs. Sanchez," she said flatly.

On the way, she sent the wedding footage to Ralph's archrival.

"Want a chance to knock Ralph down a peg? Here you go."

Then she set up a scheduled social-media post. The recording of Jocelyn throwing herself down the stairs, the full account of the freezer incident, the recording of the thugs, that whole session of the family's rattan cane — all of it would go public.

Because she knew that the moment this broke, Jocelyn would play the victim to milk sympathy.

One life over again, and she had Jocelyn figured out down to the bone.

There was no reason she should be left torn to pieces while those two walked away untouched.

Then she opened her chat with Lawyer Simmons. "Lawyer Simmons, I want to sue Ralph for unlawful confinement and deliberate bodily harm. The evidence is in your inbox."

Last of all, Sarah sent to Ralph's inbox a paternity test showing that the child in Jocelyn's belly belonged to another man.

Outside the hospital, Sarah flagged down a taxi.

"To the airport."

Her flight was about to leave. Before boarding, she switched off her phone.

The freshly grafted skin on her arm was still oozing blood, but it no longer hurt. Sarah walked into the cabin and did not look back.