I DIED FIVE YEARS AGO. My life is perfect. Perfect husband. Perfect baby. No one knows who I am. The story I give them doesn't belong to me. It belongs to the girl I killed. Mornings, I teach yoga. Afternoons, I work in the orchard. My husband calls me Savanah. He has no idea who I am, or was. But one man does. One man knows exactly who I am. Everything is about to change and my perfect life will be over. OR, WILL HIS. One phone call. One dark night. By morning, one person will be dead on The Day He Found Me. Will it be him, or me?