Three days after I died, my fiancé got a call to ID the body.

He just scoffed. "She's dead, so what? Call me when she's in the ground."

The cops, out of options, hit up my backup contact—my childhood friend.

He actually laughed. "She's really gone? Not my problem. Burn her or whatever."

Then my body hit the internet—

And suddenly, both of them looked like ghosts.

Frank Nixon scoffed, snapping his phone shut. He glanced at Jeff Blenman, who was busy weaving a flower crown.

"You get the call? Sienna's dead."

Jeff didn't even flinch. Still threading flowers. "Dead's dead. If you're free, go grab the body."

Frank's smile cut sharp. "You're her fiancé. Won't even deal with her body, but you want me to?"

Jeff held up the crown, like he'd just won something. "Wanna trade? You can take the title—and the wedding. Sound good?"

I just stared at him, stunned.

I didn't know why, but even dead, I was still stuck here.

Jeff's eyes smiled, but his face didn't.

That's when it hit me—he wasn't faking it. He really didn't want to marry me. He'd been dying to be free.

That's how deep his hate ran.

Frank stared at him, then let out a cold laugh. "What, you think I'm a trash can? Supposed to take whatever junk you toss? Tomorrow's Lulu's birthday. I've got better things to do than deal with dead weight."

Right then, his phone buzzed.

The ringtone stood out. His whole vibe shifted. Even Jeff looked up, watching him answer.

A sugary voice floated out.

"Frank, are you with Jeff? He's not picking up."

I knew that voice—Lulu Keller. Their forever crush.

She moved overseas at ten, came back two years ago like nothing had changed.

Even when Jeff and Frank still treated me decent, she hated me. Told me to back off.

I didn't, so she had her people corner me. I was nearly left with a wrecked face.

When Jeff and Frank found out, they warned her—one more move and she was out for good.

She backed off. Kind of. Still pulled petty stunts.

I brushed it off back then. Thought it was nothing.

By the time I tried to explain, it was already too late.

Their hearts had started leaning her way.

Jeff glanced at his phone—missed call. His brow twitched. He'd silenced it after the cops blew it up, and that meant he'd missed Lulu's call too.

Frank smirked. "Sienna's dead. He's off grabbing her body. No time to hit you back."

Jeff's eyes iced over. He stood, grabbed the phone from Frank, and said, all sweet, "Princess Lulu, don't listen to him. Your birthday's tomorrow. I'm putting something special together for you."

The room was bursting with flowers, stuffed animals, gifts—three days' worth of prep, all from Frank and Jeff.

I met them when I was thirteen. For ten years, this was my thing too.

They'd disappear three days before my birthday. I'd panic, then someone would blindfold me and walk me into this dreamworld they built for me.

That stopped the second Lulu came back.

Now it was all hers.

Lulu asked about me.

Frank and Jeff frowned in sync.

Frank scoffed. "Seriously? After all she did, you're still thinking about her? That girl never appreciated you. Just drop it. Let her dig her own grave."

Lulu's voice was quiet. "But... what if Sienna's actually dead? Jeff? Frank?"

My chest clenched. I watched their faces.

Once, they freaked out if I scraped my knee. Said they'd protect me forever.

Now Jeff just smirked. "If she's dead? Great. I'll throw fireworks. Light up the whole city."

Frank snorted. "Or better—ship her body back to wherever and pay some whackjob priest to curse her soul. Make sure she never comes near you again."

It felt like getting slammed into a freezer—numb, breathless, iced to the bone.

I couldn't wrap my head around it. The same guys who swore they'd always have my back... were now cracking jokes about cursing me.

Fireworks. Curses. All to make Lulu feel safe. Loved.

In that moment, I was actually glad they never got my body. I might've never found peace.

Lulu said she was scared, and suddenly Jeff and Frank were in panic mode, scrambling to get home.

Weirdest thing? My soul followed them. I didn't even mean to.

The second the car stopped, Jeff jumped out and booked it for the mansion.

Frank muttered a curse and ran after him.

They bought the mansion back in college—didn't want me stuck in a dorm, away from them.

Back then, Jeff and I weren't official. Lulu wasn't around yet.

It was just us three. Unbreakable. A perfect triangle.

But then Lulu moved in. Started framing me left and right. And suddenly, there was no room for me here.

I kept my distance, refused to watch, refused to care.

Still, their laughter always found me.

Lulu lost some game and flopped onto the couch, all dramatic.

Frank ruffled her hair, smiling soft. "Princess Lulu," he said.

He used to call me Princess Sienna. I couldn't even remember when that stopped. One day, he was the sun orbiting me. The next, just ice—cold the second he looked my way.

I never got why he iced me out.

So I asked.

His eyes shifted—bored to smug in seconds.

Total playboy move—he grabbed my chin, leaned in close, his breath brushing my cheek.

I turned away. He just smirked.

"You thought I was gonna kiss you?" he said. "Please. Don't flatter yourself. Compared to Princess Lulu, you're straight-up gross. Can't believe I ever treated you like you mattered."

Then came the gut punch.

"You wanna know why I'm cold? 'Cause I found the one girl I actually care about. You? You're nothing now. So do us both a favor—disappear."

That last part cut deep. And yeah, I believed him.

The next day, I told Jeff I wanted out—leave the mansion to Frank and Lulu.

But for once, Jeff didn't budge. The guy who always put me first shut me down.

Said I was being dramatic. Spoiled. That I just didn't know how to accept Lulu.

Then he ghosted me. For days.

I couldn't handle the silent treatment, so I packed up and left to clear my head.

Three days later, I was dead.

I don't remember dying. Just that when I saw my own body, I couldn't look.

It was pathetic. Horrific.

Felt like I'd dropped into the ocean's darkest trench—no light, no clue where I was headed.

I curled up, scared out of my mind—until something yanked me upward.

Jeff and Frank were charging ahead.

Frank behind the wheel. Jeff calling my phone nonstop.

Their faces were grim.

Then—busy signal.

Jeff clenched his jaw, tapping the car door like a metronome.

Frank glanced over. "No answer?"

Jeff shut his eyes, hiding whatever cold was brewing underneath.

Frank floored it. The engine growled.

"She's really going all in, huh? Even faked the ashes. Let's see if they're actually hers."

Ashes?

So my body was already gone—cremated.

Maybe once they saw the urn, they'd believe it. Maybe they'd do the decent thing and bury me right.

Then I could vanish completely.

If not... at least they'd stop acting like I was some threat to Lulu. Forget me. That'd be enough. No more cruel words. No more anything.

Half an hour later, they pulled up to the crematorium.

Jeff and Frank got out.

A staff member approached. "Can I help you?"

Jeff gave a smirk. "Sienna Smith's ashes. We were told to pick 'em up, right?"

The staff nodded, handing over a box. "We checked her records—she was an orphan. The police said you were her fiancé, so they contacted you. These are her ashes. We're sorry for your loss."

My parents died in a car crash when I was thirteen. My aunt took the insurance money and kept me around till I turned eighteen—then kicked me out.

She changed her number, moved cities, just to avoid me.

Without Jeff and Frank, I don't even wanna imagine how bleak things would've been.

They saved me. I never thought losing them would make living feel like some impossible luxury.

Jeff rubbed the urn, lips curled in some weird, unreadable smile. "These really her ashes? Not a trick?"

The staff frowned. "Mr. Blenman, we don't fake something like this. That's a serious offense."

Frank scoffed. "Oh, right. 'Cause you guys care. Sienna's ashes—sure. We believe you. Just curious—how much did she pay to stage this little drama?"

The staff stared at them like they'd lost it. His voice iced over. "If you don't believe us, hand over Ms. Smith's ashes. We'll handle it."

Jeff held out the box. The staff reached for it.

Then—Jeff let out a fake gasp.

The urn slipped. Ashes scattered across the floor.

He laughed, sharp and mean. "Oops. Slipped."

Frank snorted, totally unfazed.

He stepped on my ashes, grinding them in like dirt. "Lulu's birthday's tomorrow. Sienna can skip it. But pulling a stunt like this for attention? Sad. Tell her—if she keeps messing with Princess Lulu, she better stay gone."

I gasped, shaking. Tried to scoop up the ashes, but my hands passed right through them.

Everything blurred. And for the first time, I wondered—what if I'd never met them? How much better would life have been?

The staff stared Jeff down, furious. "Mr. Blenman, this is insane. You're desecrating a body! These really are Ms. Smith's ashes. Haven't you seen what's trending? It's all over the internet."

He pulled up a video.

Jeff glanced at it—lazy at first.

Then his smirk dropped. His face twisted.

Frank leaned in, confused—then his eyes widened. Pupils shrank. Pure disbelief.