Sitting in my living room, I couldn’t shake off the haunting images of my husband’s accident: Dan’s car engulfed in flames, him trapped inside, crying for help that never came. It had been months since his demise, but to me, it felt like just yesterday. I missed everything about Dan — his love, laughter, and the way life made sense with him around. “You can’t stay locked in this darkness forever, Maria.” I wiped away my tears and turned to Jane, sitting beside me, offering comfort. “Life’s got to move forward,” she insisted. “Think about the debts. We need to figure out how to manage them. You don’t have to deal with it alone.”

“I know…” I acknowledged, tears streaming down my face once more. “But how can I just forget Dan and move on as if nothing happened?” Jane, ever practical, suggested, “Look, you’ve grieved enough. Maybe it’s time to meet new people. Have you thought about trying Tinder?” The idea seemed absurd, but that evening, I found myself setting up a profile on the app using a stranger’s pictures. As I swiped through profiles, my heart stopped — I saw Dan’s account. It couldn’t be him, I reasoned. Someone must be using his pictures. Curiously, I swiped right, and we matched. Soon, I received a message from his profile. “Hi, what’s up?” it said. “Hi. Making lasagna. You?” I replied, trying to act normal despite my racing heart. “I knew someone who made excellent lasagna,” he responded, which made me think of Dan. “I was looking for plane tickets.” “Really?

You’re planning a trip?” I replied. “Yes, decided to take a break. Can’t choose which country to fly to,” he said. “I’ve always wanted to visit Italy,” I replied. I wanted to go there with Dan, but he never agreed because he thought Italians were too emotional for his liking. He wasn’t fond of the weather there, either. I was shocked when the stranger replied, “Don’t like Italy. The climate’s too hot, and people are too emotional. But… they know how to cook!” My heart said it wasn’t a coincidence that this man had the exact reasons for disliking Italy as my late husband. Intrigued, I continued the conversation, discussing travel preferences and hiking, a love Dan had instilled in me. Turns out, this man liked hiking, too! But things took a turn when I mentioned my “husband” and our separation, a lie to keep the conversation going. The Tinder guy suggested meeting up, and I agreed, driven by a need to uncover the mystery behind this familiar stranger. At the cafe, waiting for him, my heart raced with every chime of the door. But he never showed up. Instead,

I saw a man across the street, eerily resembling Dan, hurrying away. I tried to follow but lost him in the crowd. I immediately pulled out my phone and texted the Tinder guy. Guess what? He never replied. Confused and anxious, I drove to Jane’s, only to find a “For Sale” sign in her yard. Jane didn’t answer her phone, and her next-door neighbor, Mrs. Gilbert, mentioned Jane had rushed to the airport with a man resembling Dan. My world collapsed. Dan couldn’t just rise from the dead and run off with Jane. Could he? With my mind plagued with worries, I somehow thanked Mrs. Gilbert and returned to my car. Once inside, I called Jane’s sister. honest if you’ve been hiding something all this while,” I said as I explained everything to her. “Look, Maria, sometimes grief plays tricks on your mind—” Jane’s sister started, but I cut her off. “I know how it sounds. Just tell me what I asked!” I said desperately. “Maria, I swear, there’s nothing,” she replied. “But I’ll call and ask the family, okay? Take care.” Then, the call ended. I knew I couldn’t wait for things to be resolved. I started the car and headed towards the airport. Was Dan alive? Had he and Jane conspired together? I was determined to find out. As I arrived, I hurriedly parked my car and dashed inside the airport, my eyes scanning the crowds for any sign of Jane and Dan. There! I spotted them in the distance. Jane, with her bright red suitcase, and the man, his back to me, were heading toward security. “Jane!” I called out as I pushed through the crowd. As they reached the security checkpoint, they seemed to blend into the flow of passengers. I managed to reach the security barrier just as they placed their bags on the conveyor belt. I tried to follow them, but a security officer stopped me. “Ticket and ID, ma’am,” he said firmly. “Look, I need to get through. It’s urgent!” I explained. But the officer didn’t budge. “Without a ticket, I can’t let you through.” I watched helplessly as Jane and the man made their way through the checkpoint. Noticing my defeated expression, the security guard softened and asked if I was worried and needed help. I shook my head and stepped back. It was too late. My best friend and ‘dead’ husband approached the boarding gate, showed their tickets to the gate agent, and disappeared out of my sight. Yes, the man was Dan. I stood there, watching the plane taxi to the runway and lift off, soaring into the sky until it was just a speck of clouds. I was heartbroken once again. But this time, the heartbreak didn’t make me weak. I was bent on getting to the bottom of whatever was happening. I drove to a police station and explained everything to a detective. Detective Martinez, the officer on Dan’s case, looked into Dan’s accounts and said, “Your husband’s accounts are currently frozen due to the outstanding debts. If those are settled, the accounts will be unlocked, and we can track him… in case he makes any transactions.” I reasoned that I could repay the debts if I sold my house. It was risky, and I could lose everything, but I was prepared for whatever happened now. I sold my house to settle the debts and rented a small apartment. The cops were already watching Dan’s account for any activity, so all I had to do now was wait. Finally, a break came. One afternoon, my phone rang when I returned from the grocery store. It was Detective Martinez. He asked me to come to the station, and when I arrived, I learned the cops had tracked the money withdrawn from Dan’s accounts to Austria. I was baffled. “Austria?” “Yes. It’s a significant lead,” Detective Martinez told me. “But all the money’s gone. It was taken out in cash.” I feared losing Dan again. “Wha-What does that mean for finding my husband?” I asked. “It means we have a location to work with,” Officer Martinez replied. But it was a risky operation. The days that followed were a blur. I took a part-time job at a local bookstore to keep myself busy. Then, one day, while I was shelving books, my phone rang again. This time, Detective Martinez had good news. “Your husband has been in touch with someone in Austria, Mrs. Johnson. We found an email. It was encrypted, but we cracked it. We think it’s about… relocating again. But don’t worry, we’re working with Austrian authorities. If he tries to leave the country, they’ll know.” I felt a flicker of hope, and a few days later, I got the call I was waiting for. Dan and Jane were arrested while trying to cross the border into Switzerland. I was at the station, watching them confess. Dan revealed he was desperate when his business failed. He couldn’t handle the failure and the debts. So, he and Jane planned to fake his death using a homeless man’s body. They apologized and said they felt helpless. Dan also confessed he was cheating on me with Jane. He thought by faking his death, he could start fresh with her. Well, I’m glad he and Jane faced their karma. While their deceit caused me pain, I had closure and a chance to start fresh and move forward with my life.