I wasn’t paranoid – I was dead. I couldn’t answer the phone if I wanted to.

Was that also my fault?

Hovering nearby, I watched it all unfold, my heart heavy with a bitterness I couldn’t express.

Soon, my body was brought to the lab, where Madeline began her autopsy.

I floated there, observing her as she examined me with her characteristic focus, emotions tangled inside me.

The initial report came out quickly, though the DNA test would take a bit longer. Marcus stood in front of the report, his eyes locking onto the word “cancer,” a flash of confusion and disbelief crossing his face.

He moved to a quiet corner, pulling out his phone and scrolling through our old messages.

The last one from me was from years ago. I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. Ever since Madeline had returned to his life, we barely messaged.

Marcus typed a message but hesitated before deleting it and putting his phone away. Instead, he called my best friend, Audrey.

“Is Caroline with you? If she’s done sulking, tell her to come home,” he said, his impatience clear in his tone.

Audrey, having heard his words, didn’t hold back. “I was going to ask you! I haven’t been able to reach her for three days!”

“Three days?” Marcus’s eyes widened slightly as he hung up the phone.

He stared at my contact info on his phone for a moment before finally dialing my number, only to be met with the same disconnection tone.

At that moment, Madeline approached him. “Marcus, let’s go grab something to eat. I’m starving.”

Her voice was soft and sweet, but Marcus shook his head. “I’ve got something to take care of. Next time, okay?”

I floated beside him, watching him speak to her with such gentle affection, feeling a sharp pang in my chest.

I followed him back to our home, watching as he started rummaging through the house as if looking for something. What was he searching for?

Suddenly, he pulled out a stash of pills from my bedside drawer. I remembered when I hid those from him, telling him they were just vitamins.

He didn’t know that those pills were actually my cancer medication. Perhaps it was my fault – my lies had been so convincing that even when I told him I had cancer, he refused to believe me.

I’ll never forget the way he scoffed that night when I told him the truth. “You have cancer too? Why do you always have to copy Madeline?”

That moment shattered me. I didn’t even have the right to be sick in his eyes.

Marcus’s face grew darker as he examined the labels on the bottles. His expression became more and more troubled.

Just then, his phone rang again. “Captain Parker, Madeline fainted again. She’s been sent to the hospital.”

He froze for a moment, then shoved the pill bottles into his pocket and rushed out the door.

As I floated there, watching him run to her, my heart felt heavier than ever before.

When Marcus arrived at the hospital, Madeline had already woken up, her face pale.

He quietly stepped into the room, placing the takeout container on the bedside table.

“You’re awake? I brought you some soup,” he said softly. He opened the container, releasing the fragrant steam into the air.

Carefully, he scooped up a spoonful, blew on it gently, and held it up to Madeline’s lips.

Madeline parted her lips slightly, allowing him to feed her.

I hovered in the air, watching this scene unfold, a surge of emotions welling up inside me.

Envy, bitterness, and an overwhelming sense of heartache.

I had once longed for this kind of care and tenderness, only to be let down time and time again by reality.

I thought back to the days when I lay alone in the hospital undergoing chemotherapy. Marcus had no idea.

I was too afraid of burdening his work at the police station, so I faced the pain alone.

Sometimes, when I was hungry, I’d just grab a piece of bread to get by. There was never anything like this.

As I watched Marcus gently care for Madeline, the ache in my heart intensified.

I had once been his wife, the person closest to him, yet this tenderness now belonged to someone else.

After a few spoonfuls of soup, Madeline whispered, “I’m full.”

Marcus took a wet tissue and carefully wiped the corners of her mouth, tucking her blanket in.

He stood, preparing to leave, but Madeline grabbed his hand.

“Stay with me until I fall asleep, please,” she said softly, her voice pleading.

Marcus hesitated for a moment, but eventually, he nodded and sat back down.

I stood there, watching their interaction, my emotions in turmoil.

I watched Madeline’s frail act and felt a surge of disdain.

She clung to Marcus as if afraid he might vanish at any moment. Was she really that pitiful?

No wonder Marcus was willing to stay by her side, to care for her like this.

But I knew the real Madeline. Beneath that seemingly innocent exterior lurked someone cold and ruthless.

She hadn’t killed me with her own hands, but after I died, she meticulously peeled my skin away, as though crafting an artwork. I could never forget that.

Suddenly, Madeline jerked awake, seemingly from a nightmare. She gripped Marcus’s hand tightly. “Marcus, I had a terrible dream. Am I going to die? What if the cancer can’t be cured?”

Her eyes were red, tears streaming onto Marcus’s arm. Marcus looked at her, filled with helpless sympathy and pain.

He pulled her into his arms, trying to comfort her.

A flash of slyness appeared in Madeline’s eyes, as if she had picked up on Marcus’s inner turmoil.

“Marcus, have you reached your wife yet? Maybe you shouldn’t stay with me, you should go look for her,” she said, her voice tinged with worry and urgency.

Marcus’s hand instinctively went to his pocket, feeling the pill bottle. His grip tightened.

His mind was a whirlwind of confusion.

“Don’t worry about her. She’ll come back when she’s done sulking,” he said, frustration creeping into his tone.

“Get some rest. I’m going to check with the doctor about your condition,” Marcus said, standing up to leave the room.

Madeline watched him go, a smirk of satisfaction playing on her lips.

Marcus walked out, finding a doctor. Unexpectedly, instead of asking about Madeline, he pulled out the pill bottle from his pocket.

“Doctor, can you tell me what these are?” Marcus’s voice was tense, filled with anticipation.

The doctor took the bottle and furrowed his brow.

“These are cancer medications,” he replied solemnly.

Marcus froze, his body rigid.

His voice trembled as he asked, “Cancer medication? Are you sure?”

A wave of panic and unease washed over him.

The doctor nodded, glancing again at the label on the bottle. “Isn’t this for Caroline? She didn’t come for her chemotherapy yesterday, and we couldn’t reach her by phone. What’s your relationship to her?” the doctor asked, puzzled.

“I’m her husband,” Marcus’s voice was low and hoarse.

His mind was spinning, something inside him beginning to crumble.

The doctor frowned. “She’s been coming in for chemotherapy for a while now, but I’ve never seen you here. You should really be more attentive as a husband. That poor girl always comes alone. She’d just nibble on some bread when she was hungry. You haven’t exactly been a very supportive husband.”

The doctor’s words pierced Marcus like a needle.

He stood there, his mind blank, unable to process anything.

Images of me enduring chemotherapy all alone flooded his mind... and his heart ached deeply.

Marcus’s phone suddenly vibrated, shattering the silence in the air.

He absentmindedly answered the call, the urgent voice of a police officer echoing in his ear.

“Captain Parker, the DNA results are in. You need to come to the station right away.”

He jumped to his feet, not even bothering to inform Madeline, and dashed out of the hospital room, racing toward the police station.

As he ran, a deep sense of unease settled in his chest. He could feel it – something was slipping beyond his control.

Bursting through the station doors, he was met with a heavy silence.

The officers wore somber expressions, each one reluctant to meet his gaze.

They handed him the report cautiously, their eyes filled with a silent sympathy that made Marcus’s heart race with dread.

“What are you handing this to me for? Just tell me who it is,” Marcus demanded, his voice shaking as he fought to stay composed. But the panic rising inside him was impossible to hide.

No one responded. The room remained deathly quiet, and no one dared meet his eyes.

Finally, one officer gathered enough courage to speak softly, “Captain Parker, you should see for yourself.”

With trembling hands, Marcus took the report. He hesitated for a moment before opening it, his gaze falling on the name.

Instantly, his eyes reddened, and tears welled up.