The Day I Died, He Married Her

Chapter 12

I sat in the passenger seat, propping my chin on my hand as the warm air from the car heater blew against me, stirring ripples in my drifting soul.

So, my body had been discovered this quickly.

The snowplow workers had sharp eyes, didn't they?

Good. At least they left me a pretty corpse.

I glanced at Ethan Winters.

His face was deathly pale, his gaze fixed blankly ahead. His hands on the steering wheel trembled violently.

After a long silence, he fumbled to turn off the car's news broadcast.

I frowned at him. "Why did you turn it off? I wanted to hear more details!"

His breathing was ragged, his lips quivering uncontrollably. His eyes slowly darkened with a crimson hue.

"It can't be..."

His voice was barely a whisper, his fingers shaking so badly he could barely keep them still. "It can't be Rachel. She was always so afraid of pain... so afraid of the cold. It's impossible..."

Fool.

I was never afraid of the cold. Or pain.

When I told you I was cold, I just wanted you to hold me tighter.

When I said I feared pain, I just wanted you to spoil me a little more.

But never mind. Even if I told him now, he wouldn't understand.

In the dead of winter, the ground was icy, wet, and slippery.

Yet he drove like a madman, speeding at 120 mph, racing out of the city toward the outskirts of Yonkers as if he had a death wish.

Even as a ghost, his reckless speed terrified me—I was afraid I might die a second time.

By the time his car screeched to a halt outside the Winters' ancestral home, a crowd had already gathered, murmuring among themselves.

"How tragic… She looks so young."

"What a cruel fate. Why would she die here? This place has been abandoned for years."

"She looks familiar… Isn't she the daughter of the Summers family who used to live here?"

"That's her! Wasn't she that Winters boy's sweetheart?"

"Oh! I remember now! They grew up together, childhood sweethearts. Once, I caught them kissing behind the courtyard wall. The girl was so embarrassed, she ran off."

"But… didn't the Winters boy just get married yesterday?"

"The bride wasn't her, was it?"

Ethan stumbled out of the car, deaf to their whispers, staggering through the crowd.

I followed him into the courtyard.

Police had cordoned off the area around my body with caution tape.

There I was—leaning peacefully against the locust tree, my face pale as porcelain, like a delicate doll.

In my hands, I clutched the pair of clay figurines, my lips stained with dried blood that had darkened to a deep crimson.

Huh.

Poetic, in a morbid way.

Ethan stood frozen, his eyes bloodshot, lips trembling. A raw, guttural sound escaped his throat—something between a sob and an animal's whimper.

Then, ignoring the officers' shouts, he lunged forward and pulled my lifeless body into his arms.

"Rachel… wake up!"

"Stop sleeping, Ethan's here."

"Are you mad at me? Is that why you won't answer?"

"I was wrong." His voice shook, tears streaming down his face. "I'll never again assume I know what's best for you."

"Open your eyes… please. Look at me."

I floated in front of him, just like when we were kids, and stuck out my tongue playfully.

"Boo! Scared you!"

But this time, he didn't look up.

He could no longer hear me.

He could no longer see me.

Not ever again.