The Dead Bride, Late Regret

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On my wedding day, my mother got down on her knees, begging me to give my fiancé to my younger sister.

My brother urged me, "Come on, Jenny, don't be difficult. Polly has depression, she can't handle this kind of stress."

My dad just slapped me across the face. "Quit your crying, you're bad luck, a real jinx! Why couldn't it have been you who died back then?"

It's okay. I will die.

But when news of my actual death hit them…

My brother's usually cold face showed a flicker of panic: "No wa