They Said They Loved Me, But I'm Already Dead

I died on the day my family threw a lavish birthday banquet for the fake heiress.

While I was being held by their enemies, making desperate call after call, they were celebrating Diana Henson.

"Today is Diana's birthday. I don't want to lose my temper with you, but if you insist on being this stubborn, don't bother coming back to the Henson family."

Those were the words from my own flesh and blood. My biological parents, my biological brother—they all treated me like the villain. Because of what he said, the kidnappers tortured me for seven straight hours.

In the end, I stopped fighting. I died on a sunny afternoon, but all I felt was cold.

"With resentment this heavy, if it isn't resolved, you'll become a vengeful ghost. I'll give you seven days. Remember—you're already dead. Only those who feel guilty toward you can see you."

——

I stood and walked out numbly. A sudden burning sensation made me gasp.

"Hey, you're already dead!"

I turned slowly to look at the corpse on the ground. Covered in blood. The white dress had long since turned red.

By the time I reached the Henson estate, darkness had fallen. I carried an oil-paper umbrella, completely out of place. Inside, speakers blared, and the air was thick with laughter and celebration.

"Mom, Dad, big brother—is it really okay to ignore Fiona? What if she really was kidnapped?"

"If she'd actually been kidnapped, would she have time to keep calling us? Forget about her. Today, you're the star."

Mom and Jordan Henson stood beside Diana as she cut her cake, their faces soft with affection.

I'd almost forgotten how many years it had been since they'd looked at me that way. All I could remember was the last call the kidnappers made on my behalf.

"Let her die first, then come collect the body!"

I touched my chest. My heart had clearly stopped beating. So why did it still hurt?

"God, you scared me! Diana, why is your sister just standing there like a ghost? And carrying something meant for the dead?"

I stepped inside. Their frowns deepened. Some covered their mouths.

"What is that smell!"

"Ugh..."

Mom glanced at my dress with open disgust. Maybe because it was mixed with so much else, the bloodstains didn't show anymore.

"It's Diana's birthday, and you show up looking like this. When will you ever learn?"

"Fiona, don't play these kidnapping games anymore. You worried Mom, Dad, and Jordan."

Diana's words made everyone remember my so-called kidnapping. They pointed and whispered, and my parents took her words as proof I'd staged the whole thing. But I didn't rush to defend myself like I used to.

I just nodded and admitted fault.

"I understand. Sorry for the trouble. It won't happen again."

"What kind of act is this now?"

Jordan was clearly irritated, convinced I was stirring up drama. He grabbed my hand—then recoiled from how ice-cold it was. He pointed at my umbrella.

"Throw that thing out. You brought it on Diana's birthday on purpose, didn't you? If you really want to die, then die somewhere else. Don't come back."

Even now, those words made my whole body ache. I lowered my head, throat bitter.

"Mom, if I died... would you all be happy?"

"What, threatening us now? Fine—if you want to die, do it far away from here. Don't scare Diana."

I knew they didn't like me. They thought I wasn't as accomplished as Diana, couldn't make them proud like she could, couldn't be sweet and charming like she could.