Shock of My Death

It's been a week since I died, and finally, someone found my body. The fire had devoured everything in its path, leaving nothing behind. The authorities couldn't identify me by my belongings, so they had to wait for the DNA results to match me with missing persons reports. Somehow, my soul drifted to where my husband, Charles Lambert was. I thought he'd be frantic, desperate to find me after my disappearance. But the first thing I heard him say wasn't panic or grief. "Hasn't she been hiding all this time because she feels guilty? Ari, don't be scared. When she comes back, I'll make her get on her knees and apologize to you." His expression was cold and indifferent. But his voice—his voice was soft and gentle as he cradled Arianna Quinn, his childhood sweetheart, in his arms. It was a tenderness he had never shown me. Not once. He could barely speak two words to me without sounding annoyed. But here he was, murmuring to her like she was the most fragile, precious thing in th

"I picked this out just for you. Do you like it?" Charles said gently. "It's beautiful! Put it on me, Charles!" Arianna chirped. "Of course," he replied, slipping the necklace around her neck as if it were the most natural thing in the world. I glared at the two of them, my heart pounding with a fury I couldn't act on. If only I could take solid form, I'd tear their smug, deceitful faces apart. When had Charles gained the right to use my money? The money I had worked so hard to save—the money I had set aside to donate to an orphanage. "By the way, Charles, do you want to come to tomorrow's apology event?" Arianna asked casually, as if it were just another social gathering. "Of course! I'm still her husband, after all. If she's holding an apology event, I have to be there!"I was stunned. What apology event? How could I, a person who was now nothing more than a shadow, be attending any sort of event? "She better apologize to you in person," Charles continued, his voice

Charles stepped in front of Vincent, blocking his way. The two men faced each other, tension thick in the air. But the sight of the nearly six-foot-three Vincent towering over Charles's five-foot-eight frame was so comical that I couldn't help but snicker. Taking advantage of the fact that no one could see me, I perched casually on the table, chuckling to myself. But the moment I let out that laugh, Vincent's gaze snapped in my direction, sharp and focused, as if he had heard it. For a brief moment, it felt like we were locked in eye contact. A cold shiver ran down my spine, and I instantly jumped off the table, startled. Then, I noticed the faintest smile tugging at the corners of Vincent's mouth. He smiled! Could he see me? The realization nearly brought tears to my eyes. But now wasn't the time to test my theory.Suddenly, the reporters Arianna had summoned swarmed in, their presence overwhelming like a horde of zombies closing in. They encircled Vincent, microphone

"No! You're wrong! What you're saying doesn't make sense!" Arianna clung to her last hope, desperate to grab onto anything that could save her. "If Sabrina was already pregnant, why would Charles still want to kill her? Wouldn't that be unnecessary?" Vincent, as though expecting the question, let out a cold laugh and turned toward Charles. "Shall I say it for you, or would you prefer to say it yourself?" At this, Arianna panicked and grabbed Charles's arm, shaking him frantically. "Say something! It wasn't you! Tell them it wasn't you, Charles!" But Charles stood there, motionless, as if his soul had been drained. He gave no response, no reaction—just a blank stare. His silence made everything clear to the onlookers. Yet Arianna couldn't understand. She refused to accept the truth. "Say it, Charles! How could you be jealous of that boring, rigid Sabrina? You always said she was dull and that's why you didn't like her! Wasn't it she who kept making up excuses about changing her