Dangerously Promoted

Dear reader. I'm Megan Hardy. I am a 38-year-old mother of twins. Eight years ago, I was murdered by someone. Well, that's what they all thought had happened. They all believed it was obviously my body in the burnt-out wreck. Now, I hunted for my killer. Whoever that may be.

I live in the suburb of Candle Park with my hard-working husband Josh and my beautiful twins Amber and Cory. They attend our local school. I love them so much. But let me tell you what happened.

It began after years of study as well as raising the twins, I had recently graduated as an Architect, and now worked at a junior level with Drummond Architecture in the city. My boss Steven insists my input has helped win a contract for a new alternative energy driven estate. So, with this success, comes the reward of promotion. My family celebrates of course. Josh is proud of my skills and only encourages me, after many years of putting everyone else first. It all sounds normal, right? Of course it does. But the following day after my promotion, as I was happily driving home after work, my steering wheel inexplicably comes off in my hands. No pedestrians are injured (thank God); just. I suffer a face cut and a badly jarred wrist. No broken bones. Only a broken smile. The car is repaired, and life returns to normal. But then a second more connectable incident occurs. My friend Marybeth drinks liquid chlorine from my water-bottle after working out at the gymnasium. Marybeth is overcome and eventually is taken to hospital. Now alarm bells are ringing. Things just don't feel the same anymore. Someone is trying to harm me. But with no messages or reasons put forward, the police believe it is all coincidental. Life isn't looking so rosy to me now. Josh and the police keep explaining things away, until slowly life moves on to the new normal.

Two weeks later, as I'm driving home after work, I stop to pick up a woman hitchhiker. She agrees to wait in the car as I run in for a packet of cigarettes for Josh. But before I make it back to my car, a huge explosion destroys it and that poor woman hitchhiker waiting within, is killed...in MY place. Something shifted inside me. My anger fed my determination to find my assassin. I am now a living ghost. No one knows I am still alive. Even I feel a part of me has died. I change my appearance. I am now free to spy on, and fraudulently collect, any information for my list of suspects: My friend Marybeth. The mayor. A man my husband Josh subdued at the Red Parrot Restaurant. Coworkers Michaela and Joanne. The drivers of a black sedan. Even my husband Josh which is hard to even say.

Eventually only one name remains on my list. My strength is spent. I'm ready to give in. With one last desperate roll of the dice, I discover the whereabouts and identity of my would-be killer.

All because I was... Dangerously Promoted.