The Forensic Artist's Revenge

From the back cover

My sister Tiffany, an aspiring Instagram model, stood before me, her eyes glittering with ambition.

News of tech billionaire Elijah Vance's wife, Anna Reid, first missing, then found dead in what was called an accident, had shaken our small town.

"Chloe," she whispered, her voice low and urgent, "you're a forensic reconstruction artist, right? I need you to make me look exactly like Anna Reid."

Then came the chilling confession: "I arranged her little 'accident,' sis. It was easy."

My refusal was met with a terrifying snarl as she lunged, brutally assaulting me until darkness swallowed everything.

I gasped, jolting upright, back in the exact moment before her deadly attack, the horrifying memory of my own murder by my sister still searingly fresh.

The naive, kind-hearted Chloe was gone, burned away by betrayal and the cold reality of my family's capacity for evil.

I realized my own parents, in that brief glimpse of a future, had covered up my death, protecting their precious Tiffany.

A bone-deep chill settled in me, replacing the disbelief with a hardened, calculated fury.

How could my own sister, my own flesh and blood, be so utterly monstrous, willing to commit murder and then attempt to extinguish me for her twisted ambition?

The profound injustice of it all fueled a chilling resolve I'd never known.

Meeting her impatient gaze, I managed a neutral expression.

"Yes," I said, the single word a quiet promise of a future Tiffany couldn't possibly imagine.

She wanted to walk into the fire, and I, reborn from the ashes of her betrayal, would be the one to light the match.

I would become the architect of her destruction, using my very skills to set the stage for her downfall, turning the fearsome Elijah Vance into a weapon against her.