Chapter 1

On All Souls' Day, the fake Marlin husband who'd bound himself to a time-traveling system and gone off to run missions in an ancient world suddenly came home.

He'd been gone three years without a single word. Everyone said he was never coming back.

But now here he was, out of nowhere, holding on to me like he'd never let go.

"Carrie, I'm home!"

That familiar scent of mint filled my nose.

With shaking hands I clutched at his clothes and asked,

"These past few years, were you all right?"

He fell silent for a few seconds. Without thinking, I held my breath.

Then I heard him say, "It's all behind me now. As long as I could finish the mission, I didn't mind how hard it got."

In that instant, it was like ice closing over me.

Because that was the safe word Marlin Barnes and I had agreed on.

If I ever asked him that question, then no matter the situation, he had to answer:

"Without my one-of-a-kind rose beside me, nothing was ever all right."

So this man wearing my husband's face was not Marlin at all.

...

My stomach clenched, wave after wave.

I forced the nausea down and tilted my head back to look at that familiar, handsome face.

He was gazing at me tenderly, his eyes full of longing.

Maybe I'd been quiet too long, because he asked, "What's wrong? Aren't you happy I'm back?"

My nails dug into the soft flesh of my palm, and the pain snapped me awake.

"I just couldn't quite believe it for a second."

The man smiled. "Well, I was gone three whole years this time. It's only natural you'd need a minute to get used to me being back."

I stared at his face, searching for a crack in it, but the man's expression stayed flawless. I asked,

"Are you hungry? What do you feel like eating? I'll make it."

"A fiery spicy stew, a stir-fried pork skillet, spicy fried chicken..."

He rattled off one spicy comfort dish after another, and the more I heard, the colder I felt inside.

Because these were all the dishes Marlin loved.

Back when I used to ask him, he'd name these same ones without a second thought.

A person's eating habits are hard to change. Was this man really not Marlin?

I watched him step inside, pull out his slippers and change into them with easy familiarity, and settle into the seat that had always been his.

Every move he made matched the old habits exactly.

For a moment I felt almost dizzy, and I couldn't help wondering: maybe he really had just happened to forget our agreement?

After all, like he'd said, this parting had lasted three years.

One hot dish after another went onto the table.

The only difference was that I'd stirred chopped scallions into the spicy stew.

Marlin loved all kinds of spicy food, but the one thing he couldn't stand was the scallions used for aroma.

He always said they had a raw stink to them, that just smelling them made him want to gag. It was a physical thing with him. Ordinarily, if a dish had scallions in it, he'd rather go without.

I gripped my chopsticks, holding my breath without meaning to, and watched the man brush the scallions aside with his chopsticks, pinch up some meat, and put it in his mouth.

No hesitation. Not even a puzzled question.

The motion was completely natural.

There was a roaring in my head, and everything inside me churned.

This man wearing my husband's face was not Marlin at all.

I bit down hard on the soft flesh of my tongue, fighting to steady the pounding in my chest, and in that moment I was filled with dread.

If he wasn't Marlin, then where was my Marlin?

Was he still alive? Could he ever come back to me?

I clenched my teeth and swore to myself that no matter what, I would get to the bottom of this and bring Marlin home.

As if he'd sensed my stare,

the man abruptly turned his head and fixed his eyes on me.

His eyes were very dark, like black glass with nothing living behind it.

"Carrie, what's the matter? Are you keeping something from me?"