Six Years Too Late

Six years ago, I was accused of kidnapping Fiona Carter’s adopted younger brother, Ryker Carter.

The kidnapper insisted I was behind it. I begged Fiona for help, but she looked at me with pure disgust. "Xavier, you broke Ryker’s leg. This is the punishment you deserve!"

Six years later, Fiona came to the prison to take me home, only to be handed a death certificate. She refused to believe it. "Xavier, even if you run to the ends of the earth, I’ll find you!"

Later, she knelt in front of my grave and personally severed Ryker’s tendons.

I developed acute myocarditis just one year into my sentence.

After I died, my soul lingered inside the prison.

On the day I was supposed to be released, I saw Fiona Carter.

Six years had passed, yet she still carried that same quiet, untouchable elegance. She stood there holding my death certificate, her eyes bloodshot. "How could he be dead?"

Beside her, Ryker Carter pursed his lips. "Fiona, do you think Xavier Blake just doesn’t want to see me? Maybe he faked the death certificate. Forget it. I should just head back first. I don’t want to upset him if he sees me."

"Don’t go!" Fiona’s expression darkened. "Xavier’s always been good at pulling tricks like this. I don’t believe he won’t come back! Let’s go!"

She turned and walked off. Behind her, Officer Reece Davis shook his head at her retreating figure. "She looks perfectly normal. How does she not have a brain? Who fakes a death certificate?"

I was forced to follow Fiona, a bitter smile tugging at my lips. "Fiona, since you hate me that much, shouldn’t you be setting off fireworks to celebrate now that I’m dead?"

Bang!

She slammed her fist against the seat. Ryker clung to her arm. "Fiona, don’t be mad. I’m fine."

"Ryker, this is what he owes you. Six years in prison clearly taught him nothing! He thinks he can run from responsibility? I won’t let him! Take us to Southridge Apartments!"

My heart lurched.

"Fiona, I’m already dead. Why are you going to bother my family? Stop the car. Don’t go there!"

Panic surged through me. I grabbed at her arm and even rushed toward the driver, trying to stop him. However, it was useless.

As the neighborhood drew closer, my heart sank bit by bit.

The luxury car pulled up in front of a rundown apartment building. Fiona stepped out and went straight upstairs, knocking on the door.

"What are you doing here?!"

The moment my sister, Alannah Blake, saw her, her temper flared. She clenched her fists, pointing toward the door. "We have nothing to do with each other anymore. Get out!"

Fiona shoved past her and walked straight inside. "Where’s Xavier?"

In the cramped living room, her gaze landed immediately on the memorial altar. My portrait sat there, framed beneath a thin curl of incense smoke. She froze.

I followed behind her and let out a quiet sigh. "Fiona, I told you. I’m dead. Why won’t you believe it?"

"Fiona, Xavier is dead. He’s been dead for five years! Haven't you had enough? You had him wrongfully imprisoned, and he died in there. What else do you want now?!"

Fiona stared at my portrait for a long time before speaking coldly, "Xavier loves his little tricks. Tell him to come see me within three days. If he doesn’t, he’ll face the consequences."

Alannah was furious. "Then go tell him yourself! Evergreen Memorial Park. Plot 46, Row C in Section 3! Go say it to him in person!"

Fiona only warned her, "Xavier needs to atone. If he doesn’t show up, I have plenty of ways to make you regret it."

"You monster! Get out! The biggest mistake my brother ever made was meeting a venomous woman like you! Get out!" Alannah broke down, screaming hysterically.

Fiona said nothing, turning to leave. The door slammed shut behind her, cutting off Alannah’s choked sobs.

My soul was dragged along after Fiona. Even then, I could still hear Alannah crying, trying to hold it in. She was the closest family I had left in this world.

"Fiona, if you dare hurt her, I won’t let you go, even as a ghost!" I bared my teeth at her, but I couldn’t do a thing.

Fiona climbed back into the car to head home, dragging me along to a place I hadn’t set foot in for years—a place I once called "home". It was the villa where she and I had lived together for three years. Yet, even in a house built for two, a third person had always occupied the space between us.

Despite its vast size, the villa had always felt like it was closing in on me.