He Chose the Fake Sister, Now He Weeps at My Casket

A blizzard night. My car broke down in the middle of nowhere, and my legs had already lost all feeling.

With purple, cracked fingers, I dialed my fiancé, Silas.

Through the phone came the cozy crackle of a fireplace, and the sweet giggles of the fake heiress, Stella.

"Silas... save me... Route 82..." I gasped, my voice fading.

"Harper, this jealousy game makes me sick," he snapped. "Stella only sat in your passenger seat, and you play disappear? Go freeze to death out there. Don't bother us!"

Beep.

He hung up. Followed by a ruthless block.

He didn't know it wasn't a stunt for attention. It was my last SOS in this world.

When my body was dug out of the snowdrifts, frozen stiff along with the cheap engagement ring he bought on a whim, that arrogant man dropped to his knees on the icy morgue floor, sobbing uncontrollably.

Too bad, I could never see it again.

Harper's POV

The blizzard tearing through Aspen was a killer.

Route 82 was a total dead zone, and the wind slung ice like shattered glass, quickly burying my beat-up Ford under a sprawling white grave.

The heater had choked out two hours ago. The engine followed.

I was curled into a tight ball on the driver's seat, wearing nothing but jeans and a paper-thin cashmere sweater. I did have a heavy sub-zero parka before we left. But the moment Stella squeezed out a few crocodile tears about her broken zipper, my mother literally ripped the coat right off my back. She draped it over her precious adopted daughter without a second thought.

"Your sister is fragile, Harper. You've got a strong constitution. Just crank the heater in your car and stop being so selfish."

I could still see the freezing disgust in my mother's eyes.

They didn't know my heater was broken. They didn't care. Stella had claimed she needed "alone time" to chat with my fiancé, Silas, practically banishing me to this scrap-metal junker. Right now, the whole happy family was cruising up the mountain in a luxury Range Rover loaded with snow chains and heated leather seats.

Inside my car, the temperature had plummeted to twenty below zero.

Thick frost swallowed the windshield. The biting sting in my fingers had faded into a terrifying numbness. My skin was a sickly shade of purple, the flesh cracking white at the knuckles. Extreme hypothermia. I knew exactly what was coming.

My phone screen flickered weakly in the dark. Two percent battery.

Zero cell service. 911 wouldn't connect. My only lifeline left was the satellite emergency contact.

Silas.

My fingers were as stiff as wood. I pinned the phone between my palms and practically smashed the call button. Every jagged breath I took felt like inhaling crushed glass, making my lungs violently seize.

Ring... Ring...

After what felt like an eternity, the line clicked open.

"Harper, are you seriously still doing this?"

Silas's voice bled through the speaker, heavy with exhaustion and annoyance. But beneath his scolding, I heard the soundtrack of a perfect, cozy evening. The sharp pop and hiss of a massive fireplace. The delicate clink of wine glasses. And Stella's signature, honey-sweet giggle.

"Silas..." My voice was a shredded whisper. I sounded like a ghost. "Save me... Car died... Route 82. Black Pine junction... I'm freezing..."

"Oh, for God's sake, drop the pathetic victim act!" Silas scoffed, his tone dripping with venom. "You really think putting on this zombie whisper will make me ditch Stella to come coddle you? Grow up, Harper. You're twenty-two! Stella took my passenger seat, so you deliberately pull a disappearing act? Do you have any idea how sick your jealousy is?"

"I'm not... acting..." A tear slipped from my eyelashes, crystallizing into sharp ice before it even reached my chin. "Silas, please. I can't feel my legs..."

"Sister? Are you still mad at me?"

Stella's voice suddenly pierced the line, thick with an exaggerated, fake sniffle. "I'm so sorry, it's all my fault. I shouldn't have been so scared of the cold. I shouldn't have taken your coat... or Silas's front seat. Please just come back. Mom and Dad are waiting for you to carve the turkey. Stop this childish tantrum."

"Give me the phone, Stella. Stop humoring her." Silas snapped. He swallowed her bait whole, and his voice turned to absolute ice. "Listen to me very carefully, Harper. If you don't drag yourself up to this cabin and apologize to Stella in the next thirty minutes, this engagement is over. You want to freeze outside throwing a pity party? Fine. Freeze. But keep away from us."

"Silas," I gasped, forcing out my absolute last breath into the microphone. "I'm... actually dying..."

"Then die."

Click.

The line went dead. Then came the cold, automated operator. Number unavailable.

He had blocked me.

In a minus-thirty-degree blizzard, the man I had loved for ten years casually severed my last thread to life.

The screen went pitch black. Dead battery. Dead silence.

I slumped against the steering wheel, my chest heaving as the white plumes of my breath vanished into the freezing dark.

And then, the agonizing cold just... stopped.

A bizarre, blazing heat flooded my veins. It felt like I was trapped in a furnace. Paradoxical undressing. My dying brain was completely misfiring, sending panicked, faulty signals to my destroyed nerve endings. It was the body's final, tragic illusion before the end.

My stiff, claw-like fingers started desperately tearing at the collar of my sweater. God, it's so hot.

In those final minutes, my life flashed by in jagged, painful pieces.

Being brought back to the Davis family at five years old. Finding out I was the real daughter, desperate for my parents' love—only to get cold stares while they hugged their precious Stella.

In that agonizingly lonely world, Silas had been my only anchor. My protector. We started dating at fifteen, and I thought I had finally found a safe harbor.

Until Stella realized I was happy.

She had cried to him. "Sister took my place in the family... is she going to take you away from me, too?"

And just like that, he was completely swayed.

For ten long years, I had played the obedient dog. I begged for my parents' affection. I begged for Silas's loyalty. I even bent over backward to please Stella. All just to scrape up a crumb of validation.

Now I knew. When you are unloved in this world, even drawing breath is considered a mistake.

"Good..."

My frozen, cracked lips managed to curl into a tiny, stiff smile.

My vision washed out into pure white. The crushing pain evaporated, replaced by an overwhelming sense of lightness. Like I was floating.

Just like you wanted, Silas. I'm dead. Now nobody will ever bother you again.

My heavy eyelids slowly slipped shut. My heart gave one final, hollow thump against my ribs.

Then, absolute silence.