I knew my husband, Ryan Prescott, faked his death and took on his twin brother’s identity, but I never exposed him. Instead, I went to the military commander, informed him of my husband’s supposed demise, and requested his military discharge. In my previous life, my brother-in-law died unexpectedly, and my husband resolutely abandoned his position as a Battalion Commander to impersonate his twin, all to prevent his sister-in-law from becoming a widow. I recognized him as Ryan, and confronted him about why he was impersonating his younger brother. Ryan, however, denied it adamantly, coldly pushing me away. “Eleanor, I know you’re devastated that my brother is gone, but you can’t mistake me for him just because he’s dead!” He shielded his delicate sister-in-law, pushed me into an icy river, and warned me against delusional thoughts. My five-year-old daughter cried, asking why her daddy didn’t want her, and was locked in a cowshed to reflect, starving for three days and nights. My mother-in-law cursed me as a jinx who brought death to her husband, throwing my daughter and me out of the house penniless. Ryan even spread rumors that I had gone mad, coveting my brother-in-law immediately after my husband’s death. I was scorned and despised by everyone, clinging to my daughter, numbly dying in the bitter cold of winter. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my husband began impersonating his brother. …
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