Chapter 9 - The Ghost Returns
The blinding light instantly and painfully blinded Sarah, forcefully causing her to quickly raise her arm defensively to protect her eyes.
As her vision slowly adjusted to the intense, overwhelming glare, a dark figure smoothly emerged from the deep shadows.
It was undeniably her supposedly dead husband.
He was calmly sitting upright in a brand new, highly advanced, powerfully motorized wheelchair.
He surprisingly looked slightly bruised and heavily battered, but he was undeniably, impossibly, fully alive.
"How is this even possible..." Sarah loudly gasped, dropping her cell phone as her weak knees drastically threatened to completely buckle.
The man offered a chilling, completely emotionless, terrifying smile.
"Did you honestly and truly think a ruthless, self-made billionaire wouldn't have a solid contingency plan for a treacherous snake sleeping in his bed?" he asked incredibly smoothly.
He slowly and deliberately wheeled himself closer, his intense eyes heavily burning with a righteous, utterly cold fury.
"My severe paralysis was undeniably real, Sarah, but it was absolutely never as permanent as I instructed the expensive doctors to officially tell you," he shockingly revealed.
He had secretly and incredibly miraculously regained partial movement in his upper arms and core months ago through rigorous, incredibly private physical therapy.
"When I finally realized you and Mark were maliciously conspiring against me, I secretly hired an elite tactical team to aggressively track your every single move," he calmly explained.
He had smartly worn a specialized, highly durable protective Kevlar vest securely beneath his heavy winter coat on the exact day of the fateful trip.
His extremely loyal private security team had been patiently waiting in a stealth motorboat cleverly hidden directly beneath the misty rapids of the deadly gorge.
"I willingly let you push me off that massive cliff, Sarah, strictly because I ultimately needed completely undeniable proof of your actual murderous intent," he concluded triumphantly.
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He confidently pointed to a very small, constantly blinking red light safely mounted on a tripod set up high in the dark corner of the massive garage.
"And now, I brilliantly have a complete, high-definition confession heavily recorded on tape, perfectly documenting your pathetic little rescue mission for your treacherous accomplice."
