1 Two years after my death, my wife needed me to go to prison for her one true love again. She showed up at my old apartment with a fabricated confession, only to find it empty. Frustrated, she had no choice but to ask the neighbors where I was. But the neighbor just told her: "Him? Oh, he's long dead." "I heard he went through hell in prison. Was out for less than two days before he collapsed. They couldn't save him." My wife, Nina, refused to believe it. She was convinced it was a trick I'd cooked up with the neighbor to deceive her. She rolled her eyes and scoffed. "So he does a few years in prison and now he's playing the victim? Please." "Do me a favor and give him a message," she sneered. "If I don't see him in three days, he can forget about me sending another dime for that little brat." Nina spun on her heel and stomped away, her heels clicking angrily down the hall. The neighbor just shook her head and sighed. "But... that poor child was killed in a hit-and-run a long time ago. The driver's still out there..." … The metal security door of my old apartment rattled with a series of thunderous bangs. I floated in the air, watching Nina and her precious Ian standing there, her high heels looking sharp enough to punch a hole through the steel. "Leo, you get out here! Don't think I can't find you just because you're ignoring my calls!" she shrieked. "Don't you understand how urgent this is for Ian? How can you be so heartless? Are you just going to let him rot?" It had been five years since I'd last seen her, not since the day I went to prison. And the first time she finally thinks of me, it's to ask me to take the fall for her beloved Ian. Again. Ian stood behind her, sunglasses perched casually on the back of his head, the same devil-may-care look on his face. "Nina, maybe he's not home? Maybe we should just... let it go?" "Impossible! Where else would a con like him have to go? He's hiding from me, I know it!" she seethed. "Leo! Get out here!" Her teeth were gritted, and she kicked the door with even more violence, the noise finally startling our old neighbor, Mrs. Gable. She opened her door, frowning. "Who are you looking for? Nobody's lived here for a long time." Nina shot her a sidelong glance. "I'm looking for Leo. Is he out?" "Leo?" Mrs. Gable's expression shifted, becoming complicated. "Oh, him... he's long dead." I saw Nina's face freeze for a fraction of a second before the mask of disdain slid back into place. "You can't be serious. A guy like Leo wouldn't just..." "This isn't something to joke about," Mrs. Gable cut in. "He died two years ago, just a couple of days after he got out of prison. Doctors couldn't save him. Who are you to him?" "He... how could he..." Nina's words caught in her throat, the color draining from her face. Ian tugged on her sleeve. "Nina, forget it. If he's putting out rumors like this, he's obviously still holding a grudge about that business two years ago. He's not going to help me. Let's just go." That one sentence was all it took to erase any doubt from Nina's mind. She was instantly certain I was faking my own death just to avoid helping them. Just like that, she sneered. "A grudge? What right does he have to hold a grudge? I gave him more than enough money. He should be grateful." I floated above them, my very soul trembling with rage. Money? I never saw a cent of that money. It was supposed to be for our daughter, Lily, for her college fund. But two days after I was locked up, the account was wiped clean. If it hadn't been, Lily wouldn't have… she would have had the money for the doctors. Ian sighed dramatically. "It's alright, Nina. If he wants me to go to prison, I'll go. I'm not afraid of that. I just can't bear to be separated from you..." Nina's heart melted instantly. She squeezed his hand. "Ian, don't worry. I won't let them take you away from me. I will find him. He has to take the blame for this." Looking at their sickening display, I wanted nothing more than to lunge down and strangle them both. But I was just a ghost, a transparent whisper. I could do nothing. After comforting Ian, Nina turned back to Mrs. Gable, her tone sharp. "Ma'am, please pass on a message to Leo for me. If I don't see him in three days, he can forget about me continuing to fund that little brat of his!" Mrs. Gable stared at her, baffled. "But... the child was killed in a hit-and-run a long time ago. The driver's still at large..." Nina rolled her eyes and stomped her foot. "Right. Keep up the act. He spends a few years in prison and suddenly he's the star of a tragedy." She grabbed Ian's arm and stormed off, muttering, "He's hiding somewhere. I'll find him if it's the last thing I do." As they left, the agonizing memories came flooding back. Two years ago, Nina had come to me just like this. Ian had killed someone in a drunk driving accident, and she knelt before me, sobbing, begging me to take his place. "Leo, it's just for three years. It'll go by so fast..." "This new project is crucial for Ian's career, he can't have a criminal record! Please, just help him this one last time, please?" "I'll give you money, I promise. And I'll take care of everything for Lily. I'll send her to the best schools!" "Please, Leo… I’m begging you…" Looking at her tear-streaked face, and thinking of our daughter, I agreed. I still loved her. I was stupid enough to think this grand sacrifice might somehow save our marriage. But prison was a living hell. It was like the other inmates were following orders. During rec time, they would corner me in gangs. They stole my food, poured water on my bunk, sharpened toothbrushes into shivs and stabbed me in the thigh. I was constantly hungry, constantly bruised. The guards looked the other way, sometimes even throwing me in solitary for no reason. Three years. For three whole years, I endured it like a dog, my only hope the thought of seeing my daughter, Lily, when I got out. But on the day of my release, the only thing waiting for me was the news of her death. She had been crossing the street when a car ran a red light and sent her flying. Because there was no money to pay the medical bills, she had missed the critical window for treatment. I found out later that the bank account was empty. The money had been withdrawn just days after I was incarcerated. And Lily had never gone to any "best school." Nina hadn't looked after her at all. I knelt in the hospital morgue, staring at Lily's pale little face, and a mouthful of blood rose in my throat. The next day, my heart stopped beating. "Daddy..." I spun around. The translucent spirit of my daughter stood behind me. She tilted her head, her big eyes filled with confusion. "Why did Mommy call me a brat? Am I not your and Mommy's little girl?" I knelt to hug her, but my arms passed right through her ethereal form. "Of course you are, Lily. You're Mommy and Daddy's precious girl..." "Then why doesn't Mommy want us anymore?" Lily's voice cracked, on the verge of tears. "I miss Mommy so much..." I looked in the direction Nina had gone, a bottomless well of hatred churning in my soul. She had not only destroyed me, but she also felt nothing for the death of our child. She couldn't even bring herself to believe Lily was ours, calling her a brat from beginning to end. Suddenly, I felt my spiritual form grow heavy. A formless force was pulling me, tethering me to Nina's car. It seemed my soul was bound to this heartless woman. Nina was driving, a phone pressed to her ear. "Find Leo. I want him found, dead or alive." Ian asked worriedly, "Nina, what if he's really dead?" "Impossible," she snapped. "He was so reluctant to do a few years in prison. He's too much of a coward to die. Besides," she added confidently, "we still have Lily. He wouldn't dare disobey me." I floated in the back seat, looking at Nina's perfect profile, and I wanted to laugh. Yes, in her eyes, a person like me didn't even have the right to die. Lily had somehow followed me. She rested her head on my lap. "Daddy, does Mommy not like me?" My eyes stung. I forced a smile. "No, sweetie. Mommy is just... busy." "She's so busy... I waited for her every day. But she never even called me..." I turned away, unable to let my daughter see the twisted agony on my face. Did you hear that, Nina? Our daughter waited for you until the day she died. The car stopped in front of a high-end restaurant. Nina linked her arm through Ian's and walked in, a sweet smile on her face, as if the earlier drama had never happened. I followed them, watching as Ian pulled out her chair, watching as she blushed at his attention. "Nina, thank you so much for this," Ian said. "If it wasn't for you, I don't know what I would have done." Nina took his hand gently. "Don't thank me. I would do anything for you." The scene was a knife in my heart, and yet, it was so familiar. Years ago, I had pursued her just like that. She was a young woman with a ponytail, running frantically through a business park. I reached out to steady her as she nearly fell, but my coffee spilled all over her, soaking the investment proposal she had spent two weeks preparing. On a whim, I handed her my own proposal. "Take it. I wasn't going to pitch today anyway." She stared at me, raindrops clinging to her eyelashes. In that moment, I knew I was lost. I pursued her for eight months. I knew she still had a place in her heart for her college sweetheart, the one she'd been forced to break up with. I knew his name was Ian. I knew his family disapproved of her and had sent him abroad. But I figured that had nothing to do with my feelings for her. So I began my clumsy but earnest pursuit. I brought her breakfast every day, stayed with her at the office until the early hours, remembered every one of her cycles. But every time she got drunk, she would just cry and ask me, over and over, "Ian is coming back, isn't he?" Then came the stormy night. She had a fever of 104. I carried her, delirious, to the hospital. When she woke up, she looked at my unshaven face and said, "Leo, let's give it a try." Everything after that seemed to fall into place. The first year of our marriage was the happiest time of my life. Our small company started to take off, and Nina got pregnant. She would rub her belly and say, "Leo, we're going to be parents." I'd spin her around in joy. We were so happy. When Lily was born, I thought we would be together forever. But it all shattered the day Ian came back. It was a Wednesday. I'll never forget it. When Nina got the call, she knocked over her glass of milk, her lips trembling as she whispered, "Ian's back." The days that followed were a blur. She started "working late" frequently, coming home with the scent of an unfamiliar men's cologne. Ian aggressively inserted himself back into our lives, slowly chipping away at my place in her heart. She was seven months pregnant at the time. But all she could think about was Ian. After Lily was born, she didn't even look at her, wanting to send her straight to an orphanage. She didn't want our daughter, but she didn't want the stigma of abandoning her either, so she told everyone the baby had died. Over time, she started to believe it herself. I secretly intercepted the person she'd hired and brought our daughter home, hiring a nanny to care for her. I always held out hope that one day, she would go back to being the woman who had loved me. Then I would tell her our daughter was alive, that I had raised her well. But not only did her love never return, Lily was branded with a name she didn't deserve. One day, I came home early and found Nina and Ian sitting together, a stack of photos on the coffee table. "So, this is your 'client dinner,' Leo? This is your 'work'?" she shrieked, flinging the photos at my face. "Cheating on me is one thing, but having a child behind my back? Have you no shame?" Every photo was a meticulous fabrication by Ian. A normal business lunch with a female client was doctored to look illicit. A visit from my own cousin was labeled a "secret rendezvous." There were even pictures of me taking Lily to the amusement park, twisted into proof of my "illegitimate child" with another woman. I tried to explain, over and over, but she wouldn't listen. In her mind, only what Ian said was true. "Daddy, are you crying...?" I was lost in the past when Lily's small voice brought me back. I shook my head. How can a soul cry? But this feeling, of being slowly flayed alive, was worse than death itself. It was a pain so deep, I had simply gone numb.
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