When I woke up, my memory stayed at the age of 18. They told me that I was 28 years old and a successful crime novelist.
Until I received an anonymous package containing the manuscript for my future novel titled How I Killed My Husband.
The perfect crime described in the manuscript is exactly the same as the details of the unsolved case in our city last week.
I turned my head and looked at my husband who was preparing breakfast for me in the kitchen. He gave me a gentle smile in return.
Intention: Take back the pen of your own life in the destiny written by others