Three years after my death, Alex Pierce got engaged to the woman he truly loved. At the engagement party, he finally thought of me. “Where’s Emma Reed?” he asked, a trace of mockery in his voice. “She’s always been the type to steal the spotlight, never one to keep quiet. So why is it that on my engagement day, she hasn’t caused any trouble? No dramatic entrance, no noise—nothing.” His words stunned me. He didn’t know I had died. And surely, he didn’t know that even after death, I hadn’t found peace. My body was stolen. My corneas, my heart, my kidneys—all of it harvested and sold to some underground laboratory for profit. In the end, I became nothing more than a piece of her—the woman he adored. Her perfect nose, her delicate ribcage—they were mine. When Alex learned the truth, it broke him. He spiraled into madness, hunting down everyone who had hurt me, unleashing his wrath on them one by one. This man, who once despised me, ended up on his knees at my grave, crying and begging for forgiveness. He squandered his fortune, trading everything for redemption. But I didn’t care. He disgusted me. He polluted the path to my next life.
Alex Pierce, the rising star of the business world, had just gotten engaged to Lila Hayes, the daughter of a powerful tycoon. The engagement party was extravagant, attended by the most influential figures in Belmont City. As the night went on, guests toasted the couple, their congratulations ranging from heartfelt to blatantly insincere. Alex remained cordial, thanking everyone as he scanned the room, his sharp eyes searching for someone. When he didn’t find what—or rather, who—he was looking for, his expression darkened. With a cold sneer, he broke the silence. “Where’s Emma Reed? Why isn’t she here? She’s never been one to miss a chance to make a scene. Did she finally grow up and decide to behave, or is she sulking somewhere, planning something big? Or maybe,” he said with a mocking laugh, “she’s too much of a coward to face me?” The room fell silent. Every guest froze, their eyes darting between each other. There were those who didn’t know the truth, those who smirked at the drama, and those who looked at him with pity. Lila, clinging to Alex’s arm, gave him a soft, reassuring smile. “She’s young,” Lila said gently, her voice sweet and soothing. “Probably off on another one of her adventures. We sent her the invitation weeks ago—maybe she forgot because she’s traveling.” That only made Alex’s expression darker. His jaw tightened, and his hand gripped his glass so hard it was a miracle it didn’t shatter. His voice was cold as ice. “If she doesn’t want to come, fine. It’s better this way. She’d only ruin the evening anyway.” The tension in the room was suffocating, the silence deafening—until a deep, steady voice cut through it like a blade. “She’s not coming.” Alex turned sharply, locking eyes with the speaker. For the first time in years, I saw my brother, Noah Reed. The man who had always been stoic and composed now looked at Alex with pure disdain. “What do you mean, she’s not coming?” Alex asked, his voice faltering for the first time. There was fear in his eyes—fear that he didn’t understand, or didn’t want to face. Noah’s gaze was unwavering. His words were slow, deliberate. “She’s dead.” The glass in Alex’s hand slipped through his fingers, shattering against the floor. His lips moved, but no sound came out. His throat bobbed as he tried to speak, but all he managed was a hoarse whisper. “Impossible. This is just another one of her games. She’s always been a liar.” Noah, clearly irritated, clapped his hands once, the sound sharp and commanding. “Do I look like I’m joking?” Before Alex could respond, the doors to the ballroom burst open. A group of men in black suits stormed in, their faces cold and unreadable. Without hesitation, they began smashing everything in sight. The carefully arranged champagne tower toppled, shards of glass and golden liquid spilling across the floor. The once-pristine venue descended into chaos as guests screamed and scrambled to get away. The wives of wealthy businessmen, who usually prided themselves on their elegance, were now tripping over each other, slipping on the wet tiles as they fled. In the middle of the chaos, Alex stood frozen, his brows furrowed in disbelief. He didn’t trust Noah’s words, but he also didn’t dare challenge them. Lila, her carefully curated composure slipping, glared at Noah with barely concealed rage. “What the hell are you doing?” she shouted, her voice shrill. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? This is my engagement party!” Noah’s smile was cold, his eyes darkening. “Miss Hayes,” he said, his voice low and menacing, “don’t you know exactly what I mean?”
My Spirit Stood Behind Lila Hayes, Watching the Chaos Unfold I sighed as I watched the scene around me spiral into disorder. Lila, visibly shaken, instinctively stepped back—straight through my incorporeal body. My brother, Noah, didn’t hesitate. He raised his hand and slapped her hard across the face. Afterward, he calmly pulled out a handkerchief, wiping his hand as though he’d just touched something filthy. It was a heavy slap. Her nose was crooked. When the men in black finished smashing everything in sight, Alex finally snapped out of his stupor. His gaze darted between Lila’s swollen, tear-streaked face and her now-bent nose. Quickly, he stepped in front of her, shielding her, his eyes blazing with fury as he glared at Noah. “What the hell are you doing?” Alex demanded, his voice sharp and shaking. “Our families have no grudges against each other! Why are you ruining my engagement party? And what’s this nonsense about Emma being dead? Maybe you should stop throwing around accusations and go figure out if she ran off with some loser instead of dragging my fiancée into your lies!” Behind him, Lila whimpered, clutching her face as she leaned pitifully against Alex. But I could see the glint in her eyes—the calculation, the malice. Noah glanced at Alex, his expression cold and unbothered. “We’ll see about that.” With that, he turned and walked away. I reflexively lifted my foot to follow him but froze in place, fear gripping me. For as long as I could remember, I’d been trapped, tethered to Lila’s presence like a ghost bound to its captor. Every time I tried to leave the area she occupied, I was struck with unbearable, lightning-like pain that left my soul writhing in agony. For three years, I’d endured this torment, watching others like me—young girls, children, even the elderly—trapped, beaten down, and desperate to return home. Just like them, I had only one wish: to go home. Today, I decided to try again. This time, there was no resistance. My soul broke free of the invisible shackles with ease. The searing pain I’d braced for never came. I was free. Finally, I could go home. A wave of overwhelming emotion hit me, and my vision blurred. I followed Noah to his car, climbing in behind him. As he drove, I noticed him pull out an old, worn wallet—the soft pink leather faded with age. It was the first gift I had ever made for him, back when I’d learned how to do crafts. He had kept it all this time, taking care of it as if it were something precious. I leaned closer and saw him staring at a family photo tucked inside. In the picture, Dad looked young, Mom radiated beauty, and Noah, barely a teenager, had a boyish face untouched by the weight of adulthood. And there I was: a chubby-cheeked little girl, sitting in Mom’s lap with a big, carefree grin. I sighed. Those were the days when life was simple, when happiness was easy to find. When we got home, my black-and-white photo and urn sat at the center of the table. Surrounding them were offerings of fruit and snacks—all my favorites. Mom lit three sticks of incense, her hands trembling as she whispered, “Emma, sweetheart, if you’re not doing well, come to us in a dream. Tell us what you need. We’ll send you more offerings, more money, anything to make sure you’re okay out there.” Her voice broke as she continued. “Just the other night, I dreamed of you crying—crying so hard it broke my heart. You said you wanted to come home. Oh, Emma, if only we hadn’t gone abroad, or if we’d sent Noah back sooner, would you still be here with us? Would you still be safe?” Her tears flowed freely now, and I reached out instinctively to wipe them away. But my hand passed right through her. Mom had always been so meticulous about her appearance, but now her once-black hair was streaked with gray. Noah crossed the room in long strides, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “It’s not your fault, Mom,” he said firmly, though anger boiled beneath his calm tone. “It’s their fault—the Hayes family, the Pierces. They’re the ones who destroyed her. They cremated her body so quickly, without a second thought, before we could even see her one last time. All they left us with was ashes.” At the mention of ashes, Mom’s grief turned to fury. She pounded her fists against her chest, screaming, “Those monsters! We trusted them! They didn’t just kill my baby—they robbed her of peace, even in death. They’re murderers!” Noah’s hand tightened on her shoulder, his voice low but resolute. “Don’t worry, Mom. Everyone who hurt Emma will pay. Every single one of them. The Hayes family, the Pierces—they’ll give back what they owe us. What they owe her.” I floated above them, staring at the urn that held what was left of me. A chill ran through me, colder than anything I’d ever felt. I was dead. I knew that. But hearing them talk about my cremation, about how my body had been burned without dignity or respect, filled me with dread. Why? What was I afraid of? I couldn’t remember how I died. The details were blurry, slipping through my fingers like water. Was it… unnatural? Later that evening, Dad came home. The family gathered around the dinner table, but the atmosphere was heavy, the air thick with unspoken sorrow. Mom’s eyes were swollen from crying. Dad’s face was lined with exhaustion. Noah’s jaw was clenched, his anger barely contained. Grief and hatred had consumed them, leaving scars that wouldn’t fade. I wanted to tell them, I’m okay. I’m home now. I’m right here with you. But no matter how hard I tried, they couldn’t hear me. They couldn’t see me.
My Soul Drifted Aimlessly, Yet Somehow I Found Myself Back with Alex Pierce It seemed Lila Hayes had rushed off to get her nose fixed, leaving the mansion unusually quiet. Alex was in his study, sitting at his desk, but he wasn’t working. His eyes were glazed, staring blankly ahead, the only light in the room coming from his phone screen. Curious, I floated closer. He was drafting a text message—for me. I watched as he typed and deleted, over and over again. At first, he wanted to ask if I was doing okay, then if I had finished school. But in the end, all he sent was a short, hesitant message: “Are you back in the country?” But I couldn’t reply. I couldn’t return to him. As time passed and the screen remained silent, his patience wore thin. I could see the anger rising in his expression. Convinced I was playing some sort of game with him, his frustration boiled over. He grabbed his phone and hurled it onto the floor. The screen shattered into pieces as he muttered, “Emma Reed, you better never reply to me again. Don’t even bother.” His voice grew louder, trembling with barely-contained rage. “I can’t believe I even let myself consider the idea that you were dead! What a joke. You’re just a pathological liar, always have been!” I sighed, regret washing over me. How had I ever fallen for someone like Alex Pierce? Someone so temperamental, who flew into a rage and smashed things whenever things didn’t go his way. But he hadn’t always been this way. There was a time when Alex was different—when he was kind, patient, and full of warmth. Back then, he was the kind of person whose smile could light up an entire room. Though he was decisive and commanding when it came to business, he was soft-spoken and considerate when it came to people. He had a way of making everyone feel seen and valued, like sunlight breaking through the coldest winter. It was during those years that my parents had been dealing with trouble at their company overseas, and my brother was busy with school. I was sent to live with my parents’ close friends—Alex’s family. But his parents were constantly busy, and I hardly ever saw them. For all intents and purposes, Alex was the one who raised me. I was only a child, and the kids at school weren’t kind. They teased me relentlessly, saying my parents had abandoned me, calling me an unwanted stray. I didn’t understand how cruel words could be back then. All I knew was that I felt completely and utterly alone. I started to withdraw, believing their words, believing that no one wanted me. But Alex was always there. He’d pull out a lollipop and sit beside me, patiently coaxing me out of my sadness. “You’re not unwanted,” he’d say with a gentle smile. “If no one else wants you, I do.” He became my safe harbor, my everything. For years, my world revolved around Alex Pierce. In my youth, he was my light, warm and steady, chasing away the shadows. But these past three years, following Lila Hayes like a ghost, I saw a side of Alex that I barely recognized. He had become volatile, cruel, and petty. His temper flared over the smallest of things, and he would lash out without hesitation. His words cut deep, dripping with venom, and every little inconvenience seemed to set him off. This wasn’t the Alex I had known. This was someone bitter and broken, someone who reeked of anger and resentment—a stench that clung to his very soul. As I watched, Alex swept everything off his desk in a fit of rage, sending papers, books, and pens crashing to the floor. And yet, even in his fury, he couldn’t stop talking to me. “Emma Reed, you’ve really grown bold, haven’t you? I gave you an out, and you wouldn’t take it!” “You think you’re so clever, don’t you? Just wait—when the time comes, don’t come crawling back to me, begging for forgiveness!” I stood in front of him, staring, my heart heavy with a sorrow I couldn’t express. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to reply. It wasn’t that I was ignoring him. It was because I was already dead.
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