I'm Dead, but She Wants Me to Take the Fall

Charlotte Blake sat at the dining table, absent-mindedly poking at her food. Her mother, Margaret Carter, assumed work was wearing her down and put a spare rib on her plate.

Just then, Charlotte's phone buzzed. It was her secretary again.

"I'll take this call," she said, stepping out onto the balcony. She lowered her voice and said, "Go ahead."

"Ms. Blake… We still haven't located Shane Foster. No one answered the door when we went to his last known address, and his former supervisor said he'd never returned to work after his release."

"What the hell am I paying you for?" Charlotte spat through gritted teeth.

"A grown man doesn't just disappear. Keep digging. Check every place he goes and question all his friends and coworkers."

The person on the other end responded hesitantly. Charlotte hung up and took a deep breath, then turned to meet Margaret's questioning gaze.

"Lottie, what's wrong?" her mother asked. "More trouble at the company?"

"Ah… Yes. It's nothing, Mom. Just a small issue. I need to go back to the office and handle it."

Charlotte forced a smile, picked up her bag, and stood to leave. Her father, Richard Blake, lowered his newspaper and frowned.

"Is this about Leo Cane again?" he asked. "I've told you to stay away from him. All these years, he's done nothing but cause you trouble."

"I know, Dad. It's really not about him. It's the company project," she said, brushing him off with a wave.

Charlotte didn't even finish her meal as she slipped on her shoes and headed out the door. The moment it closed behind her, the smile fell from her face. She pulled out her phone and dialed a familiar number, her voice softening the moment the line connected.

"Don't worry. It's going to be fine. I'll find Shane. He can't hide forever."

She listened for a moment, then replied, "Yes. All the evidence is ready. He'll have to admit it."

The person on the other end spoke again, and her tone grew even gentler. "I promise you, nothing will happen to you."

I hovered behind Charlotte, listening as she spoke softly to the person on the line, and couldn't help but laugh. No one else could draw such gentleness from her, except Leo, her first love. I could tell her frantic search for me was really for him.

Half an hour later, she appeared in front of the old apartment building, her heels clicking sharply against the pavement. She knocked on my door, but no one answered. Undeterred, she knocked a few more times, and still—nothing.

"Shane! Get the hell out right now. Quit playing dead," she shouted. "You really think you can hide from me? I'm telling you, you…"

The loud pounding of the door immediately drew the neighbors' attention. Suddenly, the door across the hall creaked open. One person peered out with a frown.

"Who are you looking for? No one's lived here for years."

Charlotte sneered. "I'm looking for Shane. Is he hiding inside?"

My neighbor paused, taken aback. "You mean Shane Foster? He… He passed away five years ago."

"Passed away?" Charlotte's expression froze, then she scoffed. "Who are you trying to fool? A man like him would never have the guts to die."

"It's true," my neighbor said earnestly.

She went on, "I heard the victim's family from the case he was involved in was waiting for him the day he was released. They took him and… Well, he was missing for three days.

"When they found him, his body was beyond recognition. By the way, what's your relationship with him? How could you not know something that serious?"

Everything my neighbor said was the truth, but Charlotte didn't believe a word of it. In her mind, I was a coward, so why would she accept such a story?

She folded her arms, rolling her eyes dismissively. "Pretty convincing story. How much did he pay you? Is it really worth covering for him like this?"

"What's your problem? I'm just telling you the truth. I have no reason to make this up," my neighbor shot back.

"Truth? I'd be a fool to believe you." Charlotte took a step forward, her voice turning shrill. "Tell Shane that there's no use in hiding. If he doesn't contact me within three days, he won't get a single cent of child support for that bastard."

My neighbor was rendered speechless. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but Charlotte had already turned and walked away. The sharp, angry clicks of her heels echoed through the stairwell as she rushed away.

However, the bitter truth would always escape her. The person Leo had killed that night in a drunk-driving accident was in fact her own child, the one she had scorned as a bastard.