On the day Ethan Hunt announced his engagement to my sister, I sat silently in the front row of the grand hall.
He spotted me in the crowd and, inexplicably, let out a low sigh of relief.
Luna, finally done with your little tantrum? Apologize properly, and I might consider
Every guest in the room looked on in horror, confusion etched on their faces as they wondered who he was addressing.
Because I was already dead.
Today marked one week since my deaththe day tradition says a spirit might linger close to home. My haunting,if you will.
The day before I died, Ethan broke up with me.
Because he was going to marry my sister.
Mustering the last of my courage, I asked him, "Ethan, please. Don't marry her?"
Ethan's dark brows furrowed, his expression one of deep impatience. His large hand tightened painfully around my waist.
"Luna, if you need money, just say it. This pitiful act is beneath you."
"Have you forgotten why you're even here."
"Do you really love money that much? Love stealing what belongs to someone else? How utterly pathetic?"
My expression dimmed, the light in my eyes fading.
I hadn't forgotten.
I existed because my sister, Serena Sinclair, was born with a fragile heart. She couldn't handle... certain strenuous activities.
But our parents, the Sinclairs, were desperate not to miss this chance to secure an alliance with the powerful Hunt family.
So, they sent me, the "burden," to "serve" Ethan in Serena's stead.
Yes. Serve.
A completely unequal, degrading word.
But when the chasm of wealth and power is that vast, when your own parents see you as less than human, concepts like dignity become meaningless luxuries.
"Your sister will be discharged soon, well enough for an engagement and a wedding."
"You, the stand-in, need to disappear. Don't you dare dream of stealing Serena's future."
"What kind of life does Serena deserve? What kind do you deserve? Know your place."
My mother's venomous words echoed in my ears, a constant, cruel reminder.
My heart ached a dull. Familiar throb. I forced a bitter laugh and tightened my arms around Ethan's neck, playing my part one last time.
"Yeah, I guess I am running a bit low. Give me another fifty thousand."
The dim lighting of the room hid the tears welling in my eyes.
No one would ever believe that the replacement had fallen in love with the prince.
"Seeing you get engaged... makes me want to clean up my act, too."
"Consider that money my farewell gift. Payment for all the years I spent... keeping you warm."

The day I died.
Ethan had a really terrible temper.
Hearing me say I wanted to "go straight" and marry someone else, his face turned to stone.
He pulled away , the sudden distance leaving me utterly hollow.
Then, he gave me two choices, "Take back what you just said, or get out."
He'd posed choices like this before, usually it was "Apologize, or get out."
I always chosen the first option.
Because when he said "get out," he meant it. He would make me stand outside the door. All night.
But this time, I chose the second option without a heartbeat of hesitation.
Before I slipped off the bed, affecting an air of nonchalance, to pack my meager things, I kissed his lips one last time and gave him my brightest smile.
"Ethan, thanks for everything these past three years. Goodbye."
Setting aside everything Ethan had given methe clothes, the jewels, the trinkets of a kept womanmy actual personal possessions were pitifully few.
After all... someone with no real home never dares to accumulate too much.
You learn to travel light
By the time I finished packing, a pale dawn was bleeding through the curtains.
I pulled my suitcase, tiptoeing out of the bedroom.
Ethan was already there, dressed in his loungewear, waiting for me in the living room as if he hadn't slept.
He flung a check onto the glass coffee table.
Fifty thousand dollars.
His face darker than I'd ever seen.
A strange intensity flickered in his eyes. His lips parted, and he actually spoke again,
"Luna. Apologize now, and you can still take it all back."
"You wanted money? Fine, here it is."
The effect was like a meteor hitting Earth. I nearly dropped my suitcase.
Ethan Hunt. Scion of the Hunt dynasty.
People spent their lives scrambling to appease him, offering concessions, begging for scraps his mercy.
When had he ever offered someone an easy way out?
But even with this monumental, unprecedented honor laid at my feet, I never intended to take that step down, I couldn't.
"Ethan," I said, my voice frighteningly level and sincere, "I wish you and my sister a happy marriage."
I turned away, the smile still fixed on my face.
And then, the tears came. Hot, silent and fast.
My knuckles turned white gripping the suitcase handle. A choked sound escaped mesomething between a sob and a laugh.
Well. Lost a lover. Gained fifty grand.
It was enough. It would be enough for Nana's surgery.
She could live healthy for a long time yet.
A long, long time.
Later... my Nana didn't get to the hospital in time.
Just half an hour short.
She died on the operating table. And I I walked to the bridge and jumped into the icy, winter-swollen river below.
I went to be with Nana.

I died.
My soul floated upward... into a place of diffuse, gentle light.
I looked up at the figure sitting there, stirring a giant pot. God, I guess? I gave a pale, weak smile.