A Tally of Ninety-Nine Sorrows
I died on the day I was supposed to be officially appointed as the family's Consigliere.
While I bled out, my father, my mother, my brother Andrews, and my fiancé Bryce were celebrating my sister Windsor's homecoming.
As they raised their glasses in a toast, I was locked in the icy wine cellar, my blood-stained fingers struggling to dial my fiancé Bryce's backup phone.
The only one who answered was Bryce. "Mia, stop playing games," heâd said, his voice sharp with annoyance. "Windsor's party is important. This isn't the time for your drama."
The ninety-ninth time they had disappointed me. And the last.
I lay in a pool of my own blood as my breathing stuttered to a halt.
They thought I was just throwing a fit, hiding somewhere. That if they just taught me a lesson, Iâd come crawling back on my own.
But they didn't know. I was home the whole time.
Already dead.