Their Deaths Were Faked, But Not Mine

My younger brother, Nick Sutton, pushed the door to our villa open while raising his camera. "We're home, Chuck!"

When I heard his voice, I headed straight to the door. It was a sight I had imagined numerous times before I died, that they would return safely and tell me that what happened at the beach was just a misunderstanding.

As long as they were still alive, they could blame me or make me beg for forgiveness, and I would never be mad at them for it.

However, my outstretched hand went through the shoulder of my mother, Mary Lester.

I could no longer hug them.

The living room was dark, and only a few white candles, which had been almost burned out, were left. Four funeral portraits were placed on the table along with a birthday cake that had gone moldy. The cream on it had melted, and there were five names written on it along with the words 'Family will always be together'.

Nick was not frightened by the funeral parlor atmosphere in the house but laughed out loud instead. "I knew that Chuck would have a funeral and put up an altar for us."

My father, George Sutton, nodded approvingly. "Looks like hiding ourselves for ten days was worth it. He finally knows how it feels to lose his family."

Mom picked up her portrait and frowned unhappily. "Why did Chuck choose this picture? Nick might end up having nightmares at night."

I remembered the afternoon I was picking portraits. I went through all the family albums, making sure to choose a photo of Dad where he looked dignified and a photo of Mom where she looked beautiful. Nick loved smiling, so I picked a photo where he looked happiest.

Keira Green's portrait was the one taken on the day of our engagement party.

I was worried that they would not be happy with their portraits on the other side, so I made sure to wipe away every dust on the frames.

Nick leaned in close to Keira. "Keira, what do you think Chuck would do first when he sees us? Will he hug our mom first or apologize to us first?"

Keira looked at her portrait and replied with indifference, "He'll have to explain what he was doing out at sea first. If I don't teach him a serious lesson, he'll emotionally blackmail me with his birthday or a breakup."

Her face fell as she took out a ring from under the portrait. "Who gave him permission to take off this engagement ring that I gave him?"

I floated toward her and reached out for the ring instinctively, but my finger went through the back of her hand and the silver ring. I had pawned off that ring to put together enough money to fund a volunteer search and rescue team. I sold my car after that and used most of the money to continue funding the rescue, while using a portion of it to buy the ring back from the pawn shop.

Before I left, I sat staring at Keira's portrait for a long time before finally leaving the ring there.

Nick was about to turn on his laptop when he accidentally kicked a frame. "Why is there another portrait here?"

He flipped the portrait over, and his smile froze on his face. It was my portrait, and I was wearing a white shirt. There was a note under it: [You may have left first, but don't worry, I'll be there with all of you very soon.]

Mom grabbed the note and tore it in half. "Chuck is getting too much! It's one thing to put our portraits together, but why would he add his into the mix?"

The torn notes floated through me and fell to my feet.

Nick was the first to speak up. "Chuck must be hiding somewhere to scare us. He knew we'd check the security cameras, which is why he left all of these behind."

Dad nodded. "No one is allowed to look for him. He doesn't have money and has nowhere to go. He'll come back once he realizes he can't keep this up."

Keira remained silent. All she did was clutch the ring even tighter.

There were five portraits on the table, but four of those people had returned safely. I was the only one who had been dead for seven days.