Novel & Cerita Fake Death

“Twenty-three minutes.” ‎ ‎ ‎You’re a ghost,” he rasped. ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎“No, Marcus. Ghosts don’t breathe. I do.” I took a step closer. ‎ ‎"You can't do this," Marcus said. But his voice was shaking. "You're legally dead. You have no rights." ‎ ‎"Actually," I said, "I'm very much alive. I faked my death to escape an abusive marriage. That's not illegal. And I've been documenting your crimes for eighteen months. I have witnesses and evidence. And I have absolutely nothing to lose."

“This family thrives because we don’t tolerate failure. Do not let me down.” “We won’t,” Alexis said confidently. *** Meanwhile, in a small apartment on the outskirts of the city, Sophia sat across from Mr. Vale. The room was cluttered with documents and photos, the tension palpable as they brainstormed. “We need a body,” Sophia said, her voice steady despite the weight of her words. “If I’m going to fake my death, it has to be convincing.” Vale leaned back, rubbing his temples. “Do you have any idea how dangerous that is? Finding a body that matches your description isn’t exactly easy.”

She immediately answered, "Is Alex okay?" "Yeah, look, I am telling you this just so you don't ruin it for me," I started to explain, "I kind of faked Alex's death. So when they arrange the funeral, try to show up, shed a few tears as well to make it more convincing so your dear husband doesn't get suspicious." And I am sure if Cara sees her there, she'll go bash crazy which will make this whole death fiasco a bit more convincing. "Oh," She said in shock, "Okay. I will."

It’s ironic how four months will just be gone in a single night. “Rest in peace,” I murmur, setting the forged passport inside before closing the lid. Identity number twenty-seven now Officially deceased. A smile ghosts across my lips. It always feels a little ridiculous holding tiny funerals for women who never existed. But then again most of them had lived more interesting lives than the real me. I kick off my heels, retrieving the miniature USB drive hidden inside the hollow heel. It lands softly in my palm. “So,” I whisper.“You were worth killing for.”

Keeping me grounded while waiting to loot bodies like the ghouls we were. "Are we really doing this?" I whispered. “The way Faking our deaths with real dead bodies?” “It’s the freedom. If there are no bodies, then they’re going to keep searching. They need proof. Final, irrefutable proof." "This feels wrong. These were people. They had lives." "They did. And now their deaths have a purpose. It’s better than most people get.” I looked at him. I forget sometimes how different we were. How he could justify things that left me with a sick feeling in my stomach.

And I will pay you for it without question. I saw his pupils flicker. Money. Temptation. I pressed again, in a lower voice: —All I want is a fake death. You stop my heart for a few minutes, you make them believe that I am dead. Then you announce my death to my family. The rest... I'll take care of it. He swallows hard. — But… what about the body? What will we do with the… body, in the coffin? A cold smile appeared on my face.

Blake, who had been listening quietly, suddenly perks up. “James Dean?” Blake repeats, exchanging a glance with Demitri. I laugh, incredulous. “Why are you looking at me like I just said the name of an alien?” Demitri leans back, his eyes locked on me with unsettling intensity. “Because the James Dean we know, the one who supposedly died, didn’t actually die. He faked his own death.” My stomach twists, the casual confidence I had starting to unravel. “No,” I say, shaking my head. “My uncle is dead. I know he is.”

He laid it on the vanity beside the laptop and flipped it open. A death certificate stared up at me. Name: CLARA KANE Status: DECEASED Date of Death: 3 YEARS AGO Cause: COMPLICATIONS FOLLOWING NEUROLOGICAL TRAUMA I stared. The seal was real. The signatures were real. My stomach lurched. “This is a fake,” I said. “It’s legal,” he replied. “Which is what matters.” Anger flared, hot and blinding. “You declared me dead,” I said. “On paper. To who?”

Tiffany put on a show of pulling me up, feigning sympathy. "Celeste, the dead can't come back to life. We need to move forward." Phineas handed me a document and said, "This is Dylan's will. You're his sole beneficiary." I wiped away a tear and straightened up. So, not only had they staged a fake death, but they had even prepared a will? How suspicious. I quickly skimmed through the document. "All debts incurred during my lifetime will be assumed by Ms. Celeste Harper."

It was death! TBC...