My body might have already sunk to the bottom of the river, drifting aimlessly for who knows how long.

And yet, these people haven't noticed my absence.

Even Audrey, whom I've always loved deeply, failed to realize that on the day he fled our wedding, I didn't cry or cause a scene—I simply made a phone call.

How could he so easily care for another woman? Suddenly, the love I had so fiercely clung to seems utterly ridiculous.

Even as a spirit, I can still feel heartache.

Watching them smile so blissfully together, I am overcome with nausea, compelled to retch—yet, nothing comes out. After all, I'm already dead.

I...