1 It had been exactly six years since I died a miserable death in a cold prison cell, taking the fall for my older brother’s adopted sister. Today, my brother Grant actually came looking for me again. He wanted me to confess to a crime committed by Roselyn’s younger brother, a kid they had sent away years ago. He claimed the boy was too young and couldn't handle the harshness of being locked up. Grant said it so casually. He told me I already had experience behind bars, so going back in wouldn't feel foreign to me. But he waited and waited, and I never walked out of those prison gates. Assuming I had been released early for good behavior and was just hiding from him out of spite, Grant stormed back to our family estate to demand answers. Instead of finding me, he walked right into my best friend Jenny. She was standing in the middle of the old living room, setting up a memorial for the sixth anniversary of my death. Faced with Grant’s relentless interrogations, Jenny stared at the flickering vigil candle on the altar. Her eyes were rimmed with a furious, bloodshot red. Finally, she couldn't hold it in anymore. She screamed at him. She has been dead for years! She was beaten to death in her second year serving time for your precious little Roselyn! Grant scoffed, crossing his arms. "Wow, you really put on a good show." His eyes were dripping with mockery. "How long did you two spend planning this little theatrical performance?" "It’s just seven years in a cell. Roselyn bribed half the guards in there. Hazel had the best food, the best supplies. What is she playing the victim for now?" Jenny glared at him, her chest heaving. "Every time I visited Hazel, her face and body were covered in fresh cuts and bruises. Why don't you go ask your sweet Roselyn exactly who she was paying off!" Hearing that, Grant’s face instantly frosted over. "At the end of the day, she's just jealous of Roselyn. That's why she's hiding." The moment the words left his mouth, he lifted his expensive leather shoe. Smash. The vigil candle that had been burning for six years was crushed under his foot. The wick let out a pathetic little hiss, and the flame died instantly. "What the hell are you doing!" Jenny’s face drained of color. She threw herself onto the hardwood floor. My heart clenched. I instinctively rushed forward to grab her, but my hands phased right through her trembling shoulders. I could only watch helplessly as she ignored the searing heat, desperately trying to scoop up the spilled hot wax with her bare hands. "Don't touch that, Jenny! You're burning your skin, please, none of this matters!" I hovered around her in an absolute panic, crying out. But Jenny’s desperation only seemed to piss Grant off even more. "How long are you going to keep up this pathetic act? I don't have time for your bullshit!" Like a madman letting off steam, he swept his arm across the altar. Offerings, the incense burner, my few remaining belongings. He smashed them all to pieces. "Hazel is just hiding to watch Roselyn suffer, isn't she? She is absolutely vicious!" As he ranted, Grant’s gaze suddenly caught the wooden casket sitting behind the ruined altar. For a fraction of a second, his eyes faltered. It was a flicker of nervousness, something he would never admit to feeling. "Let's see if it's actually Hazel in this box." "Don't you dare touch her!" Jenny shrieked, lunging at him, but Grant shoved her hard to the ground. He flipped the casket lid open. His pupils shrank. No body. No ashes. Just my favorite white dress folded neatly inside. "Tch. I knew it. All a lie." "That's because you didn't even leave her a body! I had to make a cenotaph just to give her a place to rest!" Jenny sobbed, her voice tearing at the seams. "Pure nonsense," Grant sneered, his eyes as cold as a blade. "Oh, by the way. Your husband should be getting his termination email right about now." Jenny’s head snapped up. "With your family's income cut off, I imagine your mother in the ICU won't last long before the hospital kicks her out. Are you absolutely sure you want to keep lying to me?" No. Grant couldn't do this. I screamed into his ear with everything I had. "Did you forget that after Mom and Dad died, it was Jenny’s mother who fed us? She knitted your winter sweaters by hand! Have you lost your mind!" Grant’s face was twisted with hostility. "I really don't get it. You are both pregnant. How can you sit there and watch Roselyn stress out, running around with a baby bump just because Hazel refuses to show her face?" "Hand Hazel over right now. Otherwise, dead or alive, I will dig her up and make sure she never finds peace." Jenny was shaking from head to toe with pure rage. "You are an animal! She's dead and you still won't let her go." "If you don't believe me, go to the damn prison and check the records yourself. Do you think I have the power to make the whole world lie to you!" 2 I wanted to stay by Jenny’s side to comfort her, but my ghostly form was pulled against my will, tethered to Grant as he drove to the prison. "Hazel? Oh, her. She died six years ago." Grant’s face darkened dangerously. "Look at you. Bribing state officials now." "No wonder Jenny dared me to come here and ask. You guys had this perfectly rehearsed!" Looking at Grant’s furious expression, I actually found it laughable. If I had that kind of power, how would he have forced me into prison in the first place? Seven years ago, on the night of my birthday, Grant stormed into the house. He used Jenny’s sick mother as leverage to force me to take the fall for a hit-and-run Roselyn committed. He promised Roselyn had only made a mistake and swore he would get me the minimum sentence. But standing in court as my defense attorney, Grant completely waived the right to argue my case. I desperately tried to hire another lawyer to appeal, but Grant froze every single cent in my bank accounts. When I confronted him, screaming until my lungs gave out, he just looked at me like I was being unreasonable. "If a lawyer actually defends you, the prosecutors will dig deeper. They'll find out you weren't the one behind the wheel." "You're going to prison anyway. What does a few extra years matter? I've handled everything. Inside, you'll live just as comfortably as you do on the outside." But from my very first day as an inmate, I was at the absolute bottom of the food chain. Anyone could use me as a punching bag. Scars, both visible and hidden, mapped my entire body. I begged the guards over and over to call my brother. The only answer I ever got was, "Your brother says he's too busy. Stop bothering him." Back in the present, the guard on duty took a deep breath, trying to handle Grant’s arrogant attitude. "Look buddy, the system logs are crystal clear. Six years ago, Hazel died from a fatal puncture wound to the throat with a sharp object." Grant paused for a second, then actually laughed. "This fake database page you guys coded is pretty impressive. But if you're going to lie, at least make it believable. Where would someone get a sharp weapon inside a maximum security facility?" "Besides, Roselyn comes here every year to drop off money and gifts for Hazel. If she's dead, why haven't we ever received a single notice?" The guard finally lost his temper. "I don't know any Roselyn. Hazel is dead! Deceased! Do you speak English?" Grant’s face turned ugly. "You really won't drop the act until it ruins you. The warden and I go way back. Keep lying for her, and I'll have him fire you before lunch." The guard crossed his arms, stepping up to the glass. "Wow, you are a piece of work. If you're so sure, go ahead. Call the warden. Have him run the search himself." "If he finds anything different, I'll hand over my badge and walk out myself!" Seeing the guard’s unwavering confidence, a flicker of doubt finally crossed Grant’s eyes. Right then, his phone buzzed. [Grant, come home quickly. Roselyn is having bad cramps.] Forgetting the guard completely, Grant spun around and practically sprinted to his car. The moment we walked through the front door of his penthouse, I saw my fiancé, Tristan. The man I hadn't seen in seven years. 3 This was the man who once promised to love me until the end of time. Now, he was gently rubbing Roselyn’s swollen pregnant belly, treating her like she was made of fragile glass. "Grant, did Hazel agree to take the charge?" Looking at Roselyn’s pale, tear-stained face, Grant swallowed hard, overcome with guilt. He couldn't speak. Roselyn’s eyes immediately welled up. "Why wouldn't she agree? That is my baby brother! He had such a hard life growing up in foster care. He's only nineteen. His life is just starting!" In that moment, I felt a bitter sting of envy. As a sister, she was far more devoted to her brother than my own flesh and blood ever was to me. "Don't cry, Roselyn. I swear to you, I will find Hazel." My phone buzzed in my memory. [Hazel, you need to confess for Roselyn’s brother right now. If the stress hurts Roselyn or the baby, I will never forgive you.] For seven years, I dreamed of Tristan coming to find me. I never imagined the first message he'd send me would be that. Roselyn suddenly bit her lip, leaning heavily on the couch to stand up. "Forget it. If Hazel really hates us that much, I'll just go to prison for Toby." She cradled her bump with one hand. "I'm pregnant. It's not like they can give me the death penalty." Tristan panicked, pulling her securely into his arms. "Hazel is so sick and twisted. You are carrying a child. How could she possibly let you go to a place like that." I looked at them, a hollow, tragic smile forming on my lips. When I took the fall for Roselyn all those years ago, I was pregnant too. Did anyone ever care about my pain? "Relax. I've already sent my best investigator to track down her rat hole. Even if I have to tear this city apart brick by brick, I will drag her out." Grant turned to look at Tristan. "Roselyn’s due date is coming up. Do you have everything ready?" At the mention of the baby, Tristan’s entire demeanor softened. "Absolutely. The trust fund my parents left behind, and that beachfront villa down the coast. Everything is secured for the baby." My chest tightened. [Hazel, this trust fund and the beach house... even if you two don't make it, my parents wanted you to have them.] Those things were supposed to be for our child. Watching Tristan give them away felt like a rusted knife carving out my soul. "With an uncle like you looking out for us, we don't have to worry about a thing," Roselyn cooed, leaning into Grant. Grant stayed silent for a moment. "Once we find Hazel and sort out your brother’s case, I'm going to step back. I won't visit you as much anymore. Tristan will take good care of you." Roselyn froze. "I owe Hazel too much for these past years. Moving forward, I want to properly compensate her. I want to finally be a real brother to her." How rare. Grant was actually willing to distance himself from his precious adopted sister. Back then, when Roselyn offended one of his highest-paying corporate clients, Grant didn't scold her once. Instead, he ordered me to go apologize, forcing me to drink with the client until my stomach bled to save his contract. It was a shame his guilt came far too late. I couldn't accept his compensation from the grave. "What is there to compensate? She brought this all on herself. Hazel actually committed a hit-and-run and fled the scene. To this day, I can't believe I was blind enough to think she was the kindest girl in the world." Hearing Tristan’s words, Roselyn’s eyes darted away shiftily. Grant cleared his throat, staring at the floor. "Back then, she actually had the nerve to run to my place, crying that you guys were trying to frame her. Thank God I didn't fall for her lies. I called you secretly so you could drag her away. If she had escaped, she would have forced Roselyn to take the blame." I snapped my head toward Tristan, my phantom heart ripping into shreds. That night, Jenny told me she was close to finding security footage proving I wasn't at the scene of the crash. She told me to hide. The only person I trusted to keep me safe was Tristan. All these years, I thought I just had bad luck when Grant found me. I never knew it was the love of my life who personally handed me over to hell. Grant’s phone rang. [Boss, I can't find a single credit card transaction or digital footprint for Hazel. It's like she vanished off the face of the earth. I'm starting to think... maybe something really did happen to her?] "Grant, Hazel is hiding so well. She must be really angry and refusing to help us." The tiny shred of worry that had just sprouted in Grant’s eyes vanished the second he saw Roselyn’s tears. "Prison taught her a few tricks. She knows how to commit to a bit. But a living, breathing person has to eat and drink." Grant’s eyes turned venomous. "I know exactly where to find her. There is only one person in this world who would go to these lengths for her." When Jenny opened her front door, she thought it was Ryan coming home from work. The moment she saw Grant, her face twisted with pure disgust. "What the hell do you want? Here to repent to Hazel? Let me tell you, you are way too late." She tried to slam the heavy oak door in his face, but Grant forced his way in with a cold shove. Locking the deadbolt behind him, he started kicking open bedroom doors. "Come out! Stop hiding, Hazel! Get your ass out here right now!" Finding nothing, Grant turned into a rabid beast. "Jenny, where the fuck are you keeping her." Jenny’s knuckles turned white. "You really want to know? If you're so desperate to see her, go to hell!" Grant spun around, his cold gaze locking onto Jenny’s massive, nine-month pregnant belly. "I heard you begged the heavens for this baby. Walked up ten thousand temple steps on your knees just to get pregnant, right?"
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