My brother was widely recognized as a great hero. In an operation to protect a hostage, he was stabbed multiple times by a criminal. At his memorial service, people poured in from all over the city to pay their respects. The hall was filled with the sound of weeping. My mom fainted from the grief and had to be carried away by paramedics for emergency care. I was his favorite younger sister. But right now, staring fixedly at his black-and-white memorial photo, I suddenly let out a laugh. Because my brother was currently sitting right in front of the altar with his legs spread wide, cursing up a storm: "How could you guys use my raw, unedited photo?! Chloe, you need to change it! Right! Now!" 1 The host was reading the solemn eulogy, detailing his heroic deeds in life. "Carter Miller. When faced with a deranged attacker, he voluntarily stepped forward and offered to trade himself for the hostage. Unexpectedly, the attacker was triggered by a bystander's shout and lunged straight for the young child's left thigh. In that critical moment, Carter was the first to dive forward, shielding the child in his arms. He took five stab wounds, every single one fatal..." The entire hall was solemn. A sea of people dressed in black packed the room. The sound of crying came in waves, one after another. My mom hadn't been able to take it and had fainted. I was now the only family member left standing in the receiving line. Everyone looked at me with eyes full of sympathy, pity, and regret. "He sacrificed his life at the young age of twenty-seven," the host concluded. I gave a side-eye to Carter himself. He was hovering off to the side, legs crossed, pointing an accusing finger at his memorial portrait. "Chloe! Are you trying to piss me off to death?! Oh wait, I'm already dead!" "I told you a million times, if I ever die, you MUST use my Facetuned photo!" "I used half a can of hair gel before I left the house that day! I maintained my image until the very end of my life, and you guys picked an unedited, raw photo for my funeral?!" He was spitting invisible saliva everywhere as he ranted. Only I could see him. I tried to hold it in, but I failed. My mouth twitched, and a short, abrupt laugh escaped my lips. "Pfft." In a mourning hall filled with wailing, the sound was incredibly jarring. Everyone snapped their heads up in shock, staring at me in disbelief. Her biological brother is dead, and the sister is laughing at his funeral? It was an absurd scene. "Cough... cough..." I immediately pretended to have a violent coughing fit. Standing next to me was my brother's best friend and colleague, Liam Hayes. His eyes were bloodshot, and he turned to look at me too. I quickly lowered my head and pinched my own thigh as hard as I could. It hurt so much that tears instantly sprang to my eyes. "Cough... cough, cough, cough!" I kept up the coughing act. "I... I'm just so heartbroken... I choked on my own breath..." A deeper look of heartache flashed through Liam's eyes. Carter floated right up to my face. That semi-transparent visage was full of indignation, and he started whining to me like a brat. "Hey, my dear sister, I'm the main character today! Can't you grant me this one tiny request? Besides, look down there—my high school crush is sitting in the third row!" I didn't dare look up at him. I kept my head bowed, my shoulders trembling. Everyone thought I was sobbing uncontrollably. In reality, I was fighting for my life trying not to laugh. A hand rested gently on my shoulder. It was Liam. His voice was thick with emotion. "Chloe, if you need to cry, just let it out. Don't hold it in..." 2 "Liam, you sneaky bastard, get your filthy paws off my sister's shoulder!" "My body isn't even cold yet, and you're trying to make a move on my sister?!" "And what was that? Were you trying to give her a comforting head pat? I'm telling you, no way in hell!" While Carter threw a fit at Liam, he turned his head and yelled at me. "Chloe! You're heartless too!" "I left you hundreds of thousands of dollars in the hero's compensation fund, and you're laughing at my funeral?!" I took a deep breath, looked up at Liam, and tried to look as devastated as possible. "Liam, I'm fine." "But could you... do me a favor?" Liam immediately stood up straight. "Name it. I'd walk through fire for you." I pointed at the memorial photo. "Can we change it?" Liam froze, needing a moment to process. "Change it? To what?" I gritted my teeth. "Change it to the one from his vacation in Miami. The one on the beach with the sunglasses." Liam's expression cycled through shock and grief a few hundred times in a single second. "The one where he's wearing the hideous floral shirt, board shorts, and giving the camera the middle finger?!" He probably thought I had lost my mind. "Chloe... this picture we're using is the most... dignified one your brother had." "This is a formal memorial service. The mayor is here. The police chief is here..." "Screw dignified!" Carter was jumping up and down in frantic anger. "I don't want dignified! I want to look hot!" I stared directly into Liam's eyes, my tone dead serious. "I don't care. It needs to be changed right now. My brother told me this is his one and only dying wish." Liam reached out and touched my forehead with the back of his hand, then touched his own. "No fever. Have you actually lost your mind?" "My brother also said that if you don't help him change it, he'll visit everyone in your office in their dreams tonight. He's going to tell them how you steal a roll of toilet paper from the company bathroom every day before you go home, and how you used the company's color printer to print four massive SAT prep books for your nephew!" Liam stared at me with wide eyes, looking like he had literally just seen a ghost. "How... how do you know about that?" "Only your brother and I knew about that!" I kept a perfectly straight face. "Exactly. Because my brother just told me." 3 The photo didn't get changed in the end. After all, Carter's actions as a heroic bystander had made headlines across the entire city. The mayor was there. The press was there. There was no way Liam or I had the guts to swap the memorial portrait for a guy in a floral shirt flipping the bird. Carter was so pissed he didn't speak to me for the rest of the day. He just floated up to the ceiling beams, dangling his legs and looking completely dead inside. It wasn't until that night that he finally broke. I was sitting on a bench in the hospital corridor, peeling an orange. Carter squatted next to me, staring longingly at the orange, and swallowed hard. It used to be his favorite fruit. "Just give me one slice. Just one." He held out his hand. I peeled off a slice and handed it to him. The slice of orange passed right through his palm and hit the floor. Carter froze for a second, then his face crumpled into a grimace. "Forgot. I can't eat this stuff anymore. When you visit my grave next week, leave some for me so I can absorb the essence." I suddenly didn't feel like talking. I picked up the fallen slice, blew the dust off it, and popped it into my mouth. It was a little sour. The tears I hadn't shed over the past few days suddenly fell all at once. "Hey, hey, hey! Don't cry!" Carter panicked, clumsily trying to wipe my tears. His fingers passed right through my cheeks, leaving behind a faint, icy chill. "It's just an orange! I don't even want it anymore, okay?" The hospital room door opened, and a nurse walked out. "Your mother is awake. You can go in now." I wiped my eyes and pushed the door open. My mom lay on the bed, her face ashen. She looked like she had aged ten years in the span of a few days. The moment she saw me, tears slipped from the corners of her eyes and soaked into her pillow. "Chloe, your brother... is he really gone?" "Tell me... how much did it hurt him?" Carter reached out, wanting to hold Mom's hand. But his hand passed right through the blanket, right through her skin, grasping nothing but air. It only left behind a draft of cold wind. My mom shivered and pulled the blanket tighter around herself. "Why is it so cold..." "He must have felt so cold when he left us." Muttering to herself, my mom broke down into devastating sobs. Tears streamed through her fingers as she covered her face. Realizing he had only made it worse, Carter quickly pulled his hand back, looking completely lost. His eyes turned red, and he turned to me. "Chloe! Tell Mom I'm right here! Tell her it didn't hurt! Tell her I'm doing great!" "Those stabs were so fast I didn't even have time to process it before I died! It really didn't hurt!" Mom couldn't hear him. She only saw me standing there with a numb expression, staring into space (at Carter). The hospital room door was suddenly pushed open, and a crowd of relatives swarmed in. Uncle Dave sighed. "Chloe, this family is going to have to rely on you from now on." "That's right," Aunt Sarah chimed in. "Your brother was a hero. You're a hero's sister. You can't let him down." Suddenly, Aunt Brenda lowered her voice. "Carter died a hero. That compensation fund from the city must be a massive payout, right? You two are just a widow and a young girl now. You need to keep it safe. Don't let outsiders scam you out of it." My mom was still crying, completely oblivious to what was being said. I glared at my aunt. What was she trying to pull? Carter floated right up to Aunt Brenda's face, circling her and yelling in her ear. "That money is for my sister and my mom! When my dad died, you completely dodged the fifteen grand you owed him! Pay us back! Pay us back! Pay us back!" I asked her coldly, "Aunt Brenda, what exactly are you trying to do?" "Chloe, what kind of attitude is that? I'm just looking out for you!" "Think about it. Your brother is gone, your mom's health is failing. Is it really safe for a young girl like you to be holding onto such a massive sum of money?" "What if some bad guy tricks you out of it?" "What I'm saying is, let your Aunt Brenda hold onto it for you. I'll invest it. When you get married, I'll give it back to you as your dowry..." Carter let out a furious laugh. "Bullshit! I traded my life for that money, and you're already scheming to steal it?!" I scoffed out loud. "Hold onto it for me? You mean put it toward the down payment for your son's new house?" Aunt Brenda's face changed. "Watch your mouth, young lady! I am your elder!" Carter hovered right in front of her, pointing at her nose. "Elder my ass! You think because there are fewer people in our family now, you can just throw away all your shame?!" Aunt Sarah and Uncle Dave stepped in, shielding my mom from Aunt Brenda. "Brenda, give it a rest. Carter just passed away. If you had an ounce of conscience, you wouldn't be bringing this up right now." My mom went limp again, unable to speak, sinking back into the mattress. Seeing my mom stay silent, Aunt Brenda grew even bolder. She actually reached for the purse sitting on the nightstand. "Martha, the bank cards are in here, right? What's the PIN? We're family, it's not like I'd ever hurt you." Rage rushed to my head. I shoved Aunt Brenda hard. Taking advantage of the push, Aunt Brenda dramatically threw herself onto the floor and started throwing a massive tantrum. "Ouch! She hit me! A niece hitting her elder!" "Carter is dead, you have no one to back you up anymore! It was bad enough you guys were stingy before, but now you dare bully your poor relatives?!" "I can't live like this!" Carter was shaking with absolute fury. For the past few days, he had been entirely semi-transparent, but right now, a faint red glow began to emanate from his form. His body was slowly becoming more substantial. "Trying to touch my sister? Over my dead body!" Aunt Brenda's cursing grew even more vicious on the floor. "That short-lived brat Carter! Did he forget his dad died trying to be a hero too?! I told him a million times to mind his own business!" "Look what happened! Threw his life away!" "Serves him right!" "He's just cursed! A curse to his parents!" Before she could finish her sentence. Smash! A loud crash echoed through the room. The water glass on the nightstand had seemingly thrown itself onto the floor, shattering right next to Aunt Brenda's feet. I watched as Carter rushed to the window and began furiously gesturing at the tightly locked latch. Even though he couldn't touch physical objects, everywhere he moved left behind a trail of freezing air. And perhaps fueled by his explosive rage... Bang! Whoosh! The window violently flew open. Freezing wind howled into the room. The overhead lights began to flicker wildly. On and off. On and off. Aunt Brenda's wailing stopped instantly. She stared in horror at the window that had opened by itself. She was sitting far away from it, yet she felt a bone-chilling draft blowing directly onto the back of her neck. Because Carter was hovering directly behind her, his face dark as thunder, intentionally flying back and forth through her body. "Aunt Brenda... is the money you leached from our family fun to spend?" "Keep talking trash, and I'll visit your house every single night to terrorize you!" "Aunt Brenda, I'm so cold... how about I borrow some of your life force to warm up..." Aunt Brenda couldn't hear him, but she started shivering uncontrollably. She instinctively grabbed her own neck, her teeth chattering loudly. I stared at her with ice in my eyes. "Aunt Brenda, are you cold? My brother is standing right behind you." "He says if anyone dares to target me and my mom, he'll take my cousin down to hell to keep him company." "After all, he died with a lot of resentment." Aunt Brenda screamed in sheer terror. She scrambled off the floor on her hands and knees and bolted out of the hospital room. "GHOST!!!" Peace returned to the room. The lights stabilized. Aunt Sarah tucked the blankets tightly around my mom and turned to me. "Chloe, don't worry. You're the sister of a hero now. They won't dare try anything." Uncle Dave nodded in agreement. "Exactly. If you ever have trouble, you call me. I'll bring your two cousins over, and we'll see if she tries to use force on you!" I gave a bitter, strained smile. "What hero's sister? I'm not that noble. My brother was just a guy working a nine-to-five. If I had a choice, I would have rather he been a coward!" Carter looked as if he had expended every ounce of his energy. He had become even more transparent than before. He collapsed onto the floor, panting heavily. My heart tightened. While Aunt Sarah and Uncle Dave were busy comforting my mom, I lowered my voice and whispered. "Carter! Are you okay?" Between gasps, Carter squeezed out a few words. "I'm fine... just suddenly felt really tired. Lost my steam." "Was that cool just now?" "Did I give off main-character-in-a-horror-movie vibes?" I rolled my eyes at him. Uncle Dave and Aunt Sarah slipped a silver coin under my mom's pillow. It was an old family superstition—putting a silver coin under a sick person's pillow would help them recover faster. Carter gathered his strength, floated back over to my mom, and gave her an invisible hug. Watching his futile gestures made my chest ache. I turned and walked out of the room to fill the thermos with hot water. Carter followed me, floating right by my ear, whispering secretively. "Chloe, let me tell you a secret. I have a secret stash of money!" "Go home and look under the insoles of the autographed sneakers on my display shelf. There's a debit card there. The PIN is your birthday. I was saving up to buy you a car, but I guess it won't be enough now." "Go take it out. Buy Mom a nice massage chair first." "Use the rest to get yourself some spa treatments. Look how haggard you've gotten these past few days, tsk tsk. You're a hero's sister now, you need to look beautiful when you cry for the cameras." I held the thermos, gripping the edge of the sink. "Carter, shut up." "What? What's with the attitude!" Carter floated next to me, playing with the steam rising from the hot water. "Why haven't you moved on?" I turned to look at him, at his childishly playful profile. "They say if a spirit still has lingering attachments, they can't move on." "Carter, what is your lingering attachment?" 4 My brother froze. His usual goofy grin flickered in the air for a second. His eyes darted around, and he leaned back in mid-air, shoving his face close to mine with exaggerated dramatic flair. "Oh no! You caught me!" "Of course I have one! That anime I was watching—the author is dragging it out so much, I never got to see the finale!" I curled my lip and rolled my eyes. "Just because of that?" Carter righted himself, doing a half-twirl in the air. "Well... obviously there's more than that!" He cleared his throat, pointed a finger at me, and started lecturing. "The main reason is you!" "Me?" "Duh! Look at what a mess you are!" Carter drifted back a bit to look me up and down. "Chloe, look at yourself. You're a young woman in her twenties, and you haven't washed your hair in days, have you?" "And this outfit—I don't remember you owning a gray hoodie? Wait, is that your white hoodie, just stained with a layer of grime?" He dramatically covered his nose. "How can I, a remarkably handsome and dashing brother, rest in peace knowing I have such a slob for a sister?" If this were the past, I would have already taken off my shoe and hurled it at his head. He would have yelled playfully while catching my weapon with one hand, looking incredibly smug about it. I looked down at the hoodie I was wearing. It really was filthy. "Chloe? Hello! Did you go mute?" "Alright, alright... I'm not actually judging you. I just think... you need to pull yourself together." His voice grew quieter. "Carter, did you forget you don't even have a physical body anymore?" I snapped back at him. "I'll wear whatever I want, and I'll wash my hair whenever I want. Try and force me to wash it, I dare you." Hearing me snap at him, Carter visibly let out a sigh of relief. "Heh! You little brat. Give you an inch and you take a mile." "Carter, if you hadn't jumped in to take that knife... would you regret it?" Carter suddenly fell quiet. After a long time, he rubbed his nose and offered a strained smile. "Regret it? Yeah, of course I'd regret it." "When the first knife went in, it really fucking hurt." "I was thinking, my little Chloe isn't even married yet. Mom hasn't gotten to hold a grandchild yet. I barely even got to wear those sneakers I saved up forever to buy..." "But, you know..." He shrugged. "That kid was right behind me, crying so hard his voice was gone." "If I hadn't shielded him, the rest of those stabs would have gone right into him." "He was what, seven? Eight? He was so tiny." "When Dad died, his last words were that sometimes, reacting to danger is just pure instinct. I used to wonder how our dad, who was just a regular factory worker, could be so brave." He suddenly slapped his thigh. "Ah, whatever, let's not talk about it! It's in the past! I'm doing great right now! I don't have to wake up early for work, I don't have to revise proposals because the client is an idiot, and I can supervise you 24/7!" His tone suddenly turned a little pleading. "Chloe, when you have time, can you go check on that kid for me? Honestly, if I had been just one second faster, he wouldn't even have..." The fact that he was able to say it out loud finally lifted the heavy stone off my chest. I nodded at him.
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