My Body Has ly Been Found

"This time, I won't let it go."

Kieran’s parting threat echoed endlessly in my intangible mind. When had that man ever surrendered a single grudge?

I stood there entirely invisible, watching the irritation on Declan’s handsome face morph into a hardened scowl.

A few feet away, a sickening portrait of domestic bliss unfolded without me. Maya stood radiant, securely flanked by my own flesh and blood.

"Maya, you are absolutely incredible," Sylvia gushed, maternal pride radiating from her pores. "A handful of your pieces just pulled in billions. Unlike Serena, that completely useless girl. Her childhood teachers swore she had talent, but I never saw a single piece worth mentioning. She doesn’t possess a fraction of your worth."

Caleb leaned in, picking up the rhythm of the insults. "Speaking of which, has anyone heard from Serena? She’s not answering her phone. The girl is getting completely irresponsible, always making the family worry. I heard she went to Mistfall. Dad, Mom, I told you ages ago not to spoil her so much. She makes a mess of things and just takes off without a word. She's so selfish."

"Dad, Mom, Caleb, please don’t be too mad," Maya interrupted softly, offering them a flawlessly constructed look of gentle concern. "Perhaps Serena just wanted some time to clear her head."

"When she comes back, you had better make her apologize!" Caleb shot back, letting out a harsh scoff. "If you ask me, she needs a good beating to finally learn her lesson."

Staring at Maya’s immaculately crafted mask of sweet innocence, an overwhelming urge seized me. I wanted to physically claw that fake expression off her face.

But they absorbed every sugary word she dropped, bathing her in blind trust.

Surviving a lover's betrayal was one thing, but enduring the viciousness of my own blood felt like sheer torture.

Sylvia carried me for nine months. How could she speak of me with such casual venom?

Art had always been my world. Then came that horrific afternoon on Maya’s birthday. Sylvia violently barged into my private studio, hurling open cans of paint directly across my works and physically ripping my canvases to shreds.

She screamed that Maya was in the hospital, nearly dead, while I sat there painting like a cold-blooded monster.

That was the moment I understood her resentment. She honestly believed that I should have been the one to disappear, not Maya.

Maya and Declan engineered this entire catastrophe, yet my family blamed me for everything without a second thought.

Now, even as a ghost, I listened to them strategize about beating me when I returned.

I reached up to touch my cheek. Not a single tear fell, yet the phantom ache in my chest was unbearable.

Beyond the windows, heavy snow began to drift down, a haunting replica of the weather I witnessed right before I died.

When would they finally figure out that I was already gone?

Time blurred, and soon the massive gallery scandal detonated across the news. Both Maya and I were heavily trending.

Posts branding me a disgusting fraud while praising the genius heiress's three-billion-dollar generosity dominated the internet. The public opinion was a unified landslide against me.

I hovered just behind Declan’s shoulder, watching his thumb scroll rapidly. The further down he went, the tighter his brows furrowed.

Maya gently slipped her hands around Declan’s arm. "Declan, I didn't expect things to blow up like this. Maybe we should have the trending posts taken down?"

"Taken down? Why should they be?" Sylvia stepped closer, draped in exorbitant luxury, but her words were absolute ice. "The netizens aren't wrong. Serena boldly took credit for work that wasn't hers, and now the truth is out. She deserves it. If she didn't want this, she shouldn't have done it."

She grasped Maya’s hand, squeezing her fingers affectionately. "Everyone is praising our Maya for being beautiful and kind. Why spend money to take down a trending topic that's only helping Maya's reputation? Our Maya is going to be a world-renowned artist, someone whose name will go down in history."

"Mom is right," Caleb agreed instantly. "Serena brought this on herself. The worse she looks, the more perfect Maya will seem. Controversy only brings more attention, and she'll be even more famous."

My physical body was barely cold, and my reputation ruined. Yet my family expertly wrung out my last drops of value to pave a golden road for Maya.

When I painted, Sylvia relentlessly berated me, accusing me of throwing my life away on useless garbage.

But now, she glowed with pride over Maya’s talent, perfectly content to trample directly over my corpse to lift her up.

Sylvia never actually hated painting. She just loved Maya, and everything Maya did was flawless in her eyes.

I survived my lover's betrayal, but nothing prepared me for the pain of being backstabbed by my own family.

Maya turned her wide eyes back up to my husband, biting her lip. "Declan, what do you think? Should we take down the trending posts? After all, Serena is still your wife. If she sees it in Mistfall, she might feel really hurt."

Declan had been slightly irritated, but the reminder of my unannounced departure brought a cold, dark look to his face.

"Hurt? She brought this on herself."

Declan stared at his phone, completely devoid of empathy. "Leave it up. If she’s embarrassed, she can come back sooner!"

After all these years growing up together, all I'd earned was his ruthless dismissal.

Both the Vances and Sterlings held the power to wipe the internet clean, but they happily sacrificed my reputation for her sake.

Is this what family is supposed to be?

I curled up in the corner, listening to their heartless remarks, watching them laugh together as a picture-perfect family.

In that devastating moment, I realized I was the one who was supposed to disappear all along.

I have no idea how much time passed, but when I finally lifted my head, the scenery violently shifted.

Declan and the Vances vanished. I found myself standing in a pitch-dark, suffocatingly damp basement.

Where was I? I had never set foot here before.

I was at the start of a long, dimly lit hallway. The ancient stone walls were lined with deep cracks, worn down by decades of decay.

Faint light from nearby candles flickered over my body, but there was absolutely no shadow cast against the rock.

The corridor was completely deserted, the silence incredibly eerie.

At the very end of the passage, a small stone chamber came into view. I quickly made my way toward it.

From a distance, I spotted a heavy stone bed. A woman was lying flat on top of it.

Who would be lying here in a place like this?

The closer I stepped, the faster my phantom heart pounded.

When my vision finally sharpened into focus, a wave of visceral horror washed over me.

She had absolutely no breath left in her body. Her chest remained perfectly still, and her eyes were tightly shut.

The lifeless woman lying on that cold stone... was me.