He turned around and smiled at me. The wind from outside stirred the sheer curtains, and sunlight filtered through my body, illuminating him. "Thank you," I said softly. He shook his head. "I had a gravestone made for you, in the old garden. Do you want to see it?" "Of course!" I agreed immediately, a strange excitement bubbling up inside me. After all, how many people get the chance to see their own tombstone? But a thought crossed my mind. "Why did you place my grave in the old garden? Isn't that your family's place?""You once told me you loved the sunflowers that bloom there," he replied. I had said that—though even I had almost forgotten. I looked at him curiously. "How is it that you can see me?" Vincent pulled out a broken pendant from his pocket. "When the pendant shattered, I guessed something had happened to you. When I saw your body... I almost couldn't hold onto my scalpel." So, it was the pendant that allowed him to see me. I wanted to think more about
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'd always thought I was careful, that I had taken every precaution. There was no way I could get pregnant. But now, it seemed like Charles had done some tampering. He must have switched out my birth control pills. He had wanted this all along—to make me pregnant. And yet, I had told him before that I wasn't ready for children. Growing up, I'd never had enough to eat, which left me severely anemic. The thought of pregnancy terrified me. It wasn't just risky; it could be fatal. One mistake and I could lose everything—both the baby and my life. I was scared to death of getting pregnant. He had nodded and acted understanding. But behind my back, he had done this. I shifted my gaze to them, still struggling to believe what I was seeing. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe it was all just a misunderstanding, an accident.But then I heard Charles's voice. "But no matter what, we have to wait until Sabrina gives birth to the child before we can divorce." "But I'm mad jealous!" Arianna whine
"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
The door to the hall swung open, and a tall figure stepped in. It was Vincent Casper—the city's youngest and most accomplished forensic expert. He was also Professor Lynn's neighbor, and I had met him a few times during meals with my mentor. Vincent quickly stepped forward, gently helping Professor Lynn to her feet. From his pocket, he retrieved the medication she frequently took and administered it to her with calm precision. Watching this, I finally breathed a sigh of relief. "Who are you?" Arianna's tone was sharp, her expression impatient as she glanced at Vincent. Charles, on the other hand, looked startled, even excited, at the sight of Vincent. His reaction confused me—had they met before? My heart tightened in fear. If the two of them had some sort of connection, would Vincent still testify on my behalf? Charles leaned close to Arianna, whispering something. I edged closer, trying to catch their words. "That's the guy I told you about, the one rumored to be foolin
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
Vincent remained calm, his tone steady. "Calm down. We'll do this one at a time." He pulled out another document from his stack. "This," he said, holding it up, "is a copy of the manuscript Arianna posted online, claiming she wrote it herself." Then he reached for a file folder. "And here," he continued, opening it with a deliberate pause, "is a collection of Sabrina's handwritten works from past competitions." The room seemed to hold its breath as Vincent made his next statement. "After forensic analysis, it was confirmed that both were written by the same person." His words were like arrows piercing through the silence, striking right at the heart of the matter. Arianna's face turned ashen, and she averted her eyes, unable to meet his penetrating gaze. "So, Sabrina didn't plagiarize! Arianna had lied about everything?" someone from the crowd finally asked the question on everyone's mind."Yes!" Vincent's voice rang with authority. "Sabrina never plagiarized. Every single