After I Died, My Fiancée Married a Murderer

On the day my fiancée married her new boyfriend, my body, buried underground for two years, was finally discovered. At the time, all I clutched in my hand was a peace charm bearing my fiancée’s name. The onlookers sighed and lamented that someone who had loved so deeply would be separated from his beloved by life and death. They wondered how heartbroken my fiancée would be when she heard the news. A bitter ache stirred in my heart. How could she be heartbroken? The girl who had promised to be with me for all eternity had already become another man’s wife. But later, when she learned of my death, she went mad with grief. On a stormy night, she crawled on her knees all the way up the mountain from its foot, praying only that she could bring me back.