I Am The Real Missing Heiress
Language: en
The screech of twisting metal was still echoing in my skull when I opened my eyes to find a man kneeling by my hospital bed, his face a mask of practiced devotion. He was holding a ring—a cheap, thin band that looked like it had been salvaged from a discount bin—and asking me to spend the rest of my life with him. "Say yes, Mara!" a voice chirped from the bedside. "You’ve been waiting seven years for this. Don't keep him hanging!" My head throbbed, a dull, rhythmic ache behind my eyes. For a moment, the world blurred, and then the memories hit me—not just the crash, but the suffocating…