Page 70 of Silent Snowfall

That grizzly tone laced with a thick New York accent was one I never expected to hear again. The coat fell from my fingertips as my legs began to move of their own accord. I rushed into the kitchen, only to slam into a wall of muscle.

The masked man grunted but quickly side-stepped to block me.

“Rose! Is that you?” the ghost asked.

A myriad of feelings slammed into me. Grief and betrayal were there. But mostly horror. I felt like I was drowning, suddenly unable to breathe.

Andy stood behind the counter, gun shaking in his grasp as he looked between me—

And the masked man who felt like my rock in this storm.

My hand flew out to tangle with his gloved one. The masked monster squeezed mine. It was an instant reassurance despite this shift in reality.

“How?” I croaked with what little air was left in my lungs.

“Rose, get away from him!” Andy whispered hoarsely.

I shook my head and took a pained gulp. “How the hell are you here?”

My husband—my dead husband—shook his head. “I’ll explain. Everything. Just move away from him!”

I tightened my grip on the masked man’s hand. “Not happening.”

Andy brandished his gun. “I’m saving you, you stupid woman! Get away from him and let me get him out of your life.”

I took a step forward and one to the side. My masked intruder tried to push me away, out of the line of fire, but I batted his hand back while giving the gloved one I held a firm squeeze.

“You’re supposed to be dead, Andy.” I drew myself up tall, letting the strongest of the emotions rise to the surface. “We had a funeral. It’s been over a year. But now you’ve come back?”

My dead husband opened his mouth to speak.

“How fucking dare you,” I hissed. “How dare you abandon us!”

Andy narrowed his eyes. “I would have told you sooner! But you didn’t need to know what was happening.”

“I didn’t?” I sneered. Screw him. “You left us. You don’t have a right to be here.”

“Fine, you want to know?” he scoffed. “It wasn’t safe for me in New York. I was able to track you down when I found out you’d moved to Jersey.”

I shook my head. Unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable. All this time….

I glared at my husband. I’d been with him for nearly a decade. I’d put my body through the birth of our twins, and I’d kept our house together just for him to vanish.

He’d been somewhere with sun. Andy’s skin was bronzed, the brown of his hair streaked with gold highlights. He was fit with more muscle than he’d ever had. He looked healthy, and if this situation was different, he might even be happy.

While we, his family, had been struggling, grieving, and lost.

“Why now?” I demanded. “Why not stay dead?”

Andy scooted around the counter, one hand outstretched to me. Ha! As if he could coax me away from the one good thing that had come into our lives.

“I got in with a bad crowd, Rose,” he stammered. “I had to fake my death and get out of the city. The only way they would believe I was dead was if you believed it. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, Rose!”

I glared at him. “That was a shitty thing to do!”

“So shitty!” he agreed. “But it was safer that way. You don’t understand what was at stake.”

“Because you never trusted me!” I screamed at him.