My death wasn't enough. To protect Ryan, my brother and Vivian conspired with our parents. They painted my murder as a suicide, claiming I had taken my own life after a shameful affair.
When I opened my eyes again, the stench of blood and the phantom pain in my skull vanished.
I was back.
I had returned to that fateful New Year's Eve—the very moment Vivian proposed desecrating Grandmother Henson's remains.
——
"Vivian, why did you bring Grandmother Henson's ashes home? That's incredibly bad luck!"
My brother's voice pulled me from my daze. The familiar scene confirmed it: I had been reborn.
Vivian's voice cut through the room like a serrated knife. "What do you know? Grandmother Henson loved Ryan more than anyone when she was alive. Once I press her ashes into dice, Ryan can toss them whenever he's stuck. His great-grandmother will make the choices for him."
Her eyes gleamed with fanatic light. "Besides, Ryan has a weak constitution. If he gets sick, I can soak the dice in water to make bone-ash soup. It will bless him!"
My brother choked on his tea, visibly disturbed. He turned to me, his expression pleading.
"Alice, you're the only college graduate in the family. Talk some sense into her."