Your Regret Doesn’t Bring Us Back, Don

Three o’clock in the afternoon, Anthony came back from his meeting and changed.

He emerged in a crisp black suit, white shirt, the silver family crest catching the light on his cuffs.

He’d taken care with his appearance today, like he was going to meet someone important.

Was it me? I didn’t know.

Evelyn had changed into a dress and even put on makeup.

Perhaps she wanted her own radiant image to stand in stark contrast to my miserable end.

I hated her with every fiber of my being, but there was nothing I could do.

I screamed at her like a madwoman, but she couldn’t hear me.

She gazed at Anthony with that same innocent face.

“Let’s go, Anthony,” she said, linking her arm through his and smiling up at him. “I’ll come with you to the banquet.”

So they were going to a banquet. It seemed Anthony had completely forgotten about me.

Anthony nodded and started walking out with her.

Suddenly, the butler burst through the door, his face twisted with panic. “Don Anthony!”

Anthony stepped back in annoyance. "What’s all this shouting about!"

Evelyn chimed in, acting as if she were the mistress of the house. “That’s rude. Have you forgotten the manners my father taught you?”

The butler frantically straightened his clothes, but his neat outfit did nothing to conceal the shocked expression on his face. “Don Anthony, blood is pouring out of the attic…”

The butler was terrified, his whole body shaking.

Anthony was stunned. “Blood?”

Evelyn cut in, “Oh? Did Amelia go into labor?”

At Evelyn’s words, Anthony, who had been tense, relaxed. “What’s there to panic about? She’s just in labor. Just have someone take her to the hospital.”

The butler stammered, “But… but she’s lost too much blood. Something’s wrong, Don Anthony! It’s not just a little. A large pool has seeped out from under the attic door. Do women really bleed that much during childbirth?”

Anthony’s brow knitted, a flash of concern crossing his expression.

Evelyn quickly covered her mouth and let out a gasp. “From what I know, women don’t bleed that much during childbirth. Isn’t that amount a bit exaggerated? Could it be that…”

The moment her meaning sank in, the concern on Anthony’s face hardened into ice.

“Her theatrics aren’t over. Amelia staged that blood—fake, all of it—just to get released from the attic. Too bad she doesn’t know that women don’t lose this much blood in childbirth. She’s exposed herself.”

The butler tried desperately to explain. “That’s not it—”

“Enough. I’ll go up and see for myself what game Amelia is playing.”

Anthony’s anger was unmistakable. He shook off Evelyn’s arm.

He hissed through clenched teeth, “Amelia, you’d better be telling the truth. If this is another lie—if you’re not in labor—I’ll lock you in there for good.”

I watched Anthony stride toward the attic and let out a bitter smile.

The butler followed, his face pale, his steps growing slower.

I followed them back to the place where I had died.

I looked at Anthony, so elegant and composed, and questions formed in my mind.

Anthony, when you see my body, what will you do?

Will you still believe all those lies Evelyn told you?

When they reached the foot of the attic stairs, the butler suddenly spoke up. “Don Anthony…”

Anthony turned around.

The butler pointed at the stairs and whispered in terror, “The stairs…”

Anthony looked up.

What was on the stairs?

And then he saw it.

Blood—dried, rust-dark—streaked from the attic door down the steps like a river.

My blood.

I never realized I had lost so much blood.

I thought the blood in the room was all there was, but it had flowed all the way out and down the stairs.

Anthony froze.

Evelyn was also stunned, but she recovered quickly.

She covered her mouth and gasped. “Oh my God! How is there so much blood?! Is this real?”

Anthony snapped in anger. “Amelia! You’ve gone too far with this act!”

With that, he stormed up the stairs, reached the attic door, and kicked it open.