Chapter 1

On Thanksgiving, my husband used my mother's medical bills to threaten me, forcing me to go buy condoms for him and his mistress.

The moment I stepped out the door, I ran into a serial killer.

The masked man swung his machete, hacking me down in a pool of blood.

When I opened my eyes again, the number 4 had mysteriously appeared on my arm.

My heart pounded violently. I locked the front door, refusing to go anywhere, and told my husband, Christian, with pale, trembling lips:

"There's a killer in the apartment complex!"

Christian pulled open the bedroom door, his bare chest covered in visible hickeys. He sneered in disgust. "I just asked you to buy some condoms, and you come up with a ridiculous excuse like that?"

My face was completely drained of color as I held my daughter, shivering in fear.

The moment Christian shoved me out the door, the masked stranger was already standing behind me. A machete tore through both my daughter and me.

Blood drenched the floor!

When I regained consciousness, the number on my arm had dropped from 4 to 3.

I realized that if we died with a zero on my arm, my daughter and I probably wouldn't wake up again.

This time, I gathered every ounce of strength I had, grabbed my daughter, rushed down the stairs past our neighbor's door, and sprinted straight for our family's only sedan!

As my consciousness returned, all I could hear were the sultry moans of a woman drifting from the bedroom.

Christian pushed open the door and saw me standing there, frozen.

Annoyed, he pulled a few bills from his pocket and threw them on the floor.

"Serena, why haven't you left yet? Go down to the corner store and get me a box of condoms."

Hearing his voice made me tremble all over. I pointed toward the door. "Christian, there's a maniac outside. If I go out right now, I'm going to die."

The phantom pain of being hacked to death in my previous life still burned through my flesh.

Tears spilled uncontrollably down my cheeks, splashing onto the floor.

A flicker of hesitation crossed his eyes.

Until a mocking giggle sounded from the bedroom.

Christian's tone turned even more irritable.

"Serena, what kind of crazy stunt are you pulling now? It's the middle of the night. Who's trying to kill you? With that body of yours, nobody on the street would look twice. Stop flattering yourself."

"Besides, if you drop dead, it just frees me up to find someone younger."

Snap. The tight wire inside my heart shattered.

To preserve this marriage and give my daughter a complete family, I had turned a blind eye to his cheating.

I had swallowed my pride, walking on eggshells.

I had even let him bring his mistress into our home on Thanksgiving night.

And now, my own husband was treating me with nothing but cruelty and contempt.

"It's real! I can't go out there! He's in the stairwell with a machete..."

"Enough!"

"It's Thanksgiving. Stop making up stories. If you don't bring them back, don't bother coming home tonight."

Ruffling his messy hair, he shoved me out the door in irritation.

Slam!

The heavy door locked shut.

Shivering in the cold, I stood in the dim hallway, clutching my daughter to my chest.

A wave of despair threatened to swallow me whole.

Heavy footsteps echoed from the stairs, getting closer and closer. The killer was here!

I gritted my teeth as my heart hammered against my ribs. I held my daughter tight and bolted like a madwoman toward the fire escape.

Our white sedan was parked below. If I could just reach the car, we could escape!

"Mommy, I'm scared..." my daughter whimpered softly in my arms.

"Don't be scared, baby. Mommy's here."

Panting heavily, I didn't dare slow down. I burst into the underground garage, strapped my daughter into her car seat, and jumped behind the wheel.

Thud!

The car door slammed shut. I hit the ignition, and the car shot out like an arrow from a bow.

Glancing in the rearview mirror, my blood ran cold. The masked killer had chased us down to the garage, his cold, dead eyes locked onto me.

I slammed on the gas, speeding through the night, my palms slick with sweat.

Gradually, the distance between us grew.

I let out a shaky breath, tears streaming down my face.

This time, we finally made it!

I tapped the brakes, preparing to turn right at the intersection ahead to head for the nearest police station.

Suddenly, my relief froze. My blood turned to ice.

The brakes weren't responding. They were dead.

From my blind spot, an SUV barreled up behind me—it was the killer!

Why?

Who the hell was he?

Why was he relentlessly hunting me down?

Bundled in a heavy black coat that hid every feature, the man stomped on his accelerator and slammed violently into my bumper!