Five years ago, I was the pride of the National Archaeological Institute—the top of my class, the rising star everyone admired.

But inside the darkness of an ancient ruin, my life was stolen.

My boyfriend's so-called crush betrayed me.

She whispered lies to the tomb raiders, and together they pinned me down, hammering funeral spikes through my skull and limbs.

Then they sealed me into a stone coffin, leaving me to rot in silence.

When the rescue team and police finally arrived, she played the victim.

She said I had seduced the raiders to save myself, that I had led them to the treasures.

On the ground, only my torn clothes remained. The artifacts were gone.

The world believed her.

Stephen Jackson, the man I loved, threw me away in disgust.

The Institute erased my name. My parents disowned me. My mentor turned his back. My face went up on the wanted list.

From the brightest star in archaeology, I became a traitor cursed by all.

And no one knew the truth—until five years later, when they opened the hidden chamber and found the coffin.

Inside it lay my skeleton. And the secrets buried with me.

* * *

"Professor! There's a skeleton in this sarcophagus!"

"Careful! Don't disturb the remains!"

Amidst the clamor, I drifted aimlessly through the air. Only when my gaze fell upon the bones did I remember—I was dead.

"Professor, these remains don't look centuries old. They appear... recent."

Several archaeology students examined my bones with magnifiers.

My tears fell when I saw the professor they addressed. Professor Logan Rivera—my most respected mentor.

"Notify the police. This body's only been here five or six years. We might still extract bone DNA."

His tone was detached as he studied the remains. He didn't recognize his favorite apprentice's skeleton.

How could he?

Half a decade had reduced me to bare bones.

"Already contacted them, Professor."

A student kept examining my remains, muttering, "How brutal—funeral spikes through the skull and limbs. What kind of monster does that?"

"Tomb raiders have no conscience. Is there anything they wouldn't do? Frankly, they all deserve execution!"

Professor Logan's hand jerked where he held the documents.

Another student hastily covered the speaker's mouth. "Apologies, Professor! He's new and doesn't understand—"

"He's right. Tomb raiders deserve death."

Professor Logan's sudden icy laugh echoed before he dropped the files and walked away.

Whispers trailed him. "Are you insane? Mentioning tomb raiders in front of him? Don't you know his favorite student betrayed us to them five years ago? Sold every artifact we uncovered to save herself!"

"I... I forgot! Besides, why would he care about such a monster—"

"Shut up! She was still his student. Of course it hurts him!"

Their words crashed over me. My mind reeled.

Were they talking... about me?

But I never joined the tomb raiders. I died long ago protecting those burial treasures.

My thoughts tangled as the injustice of being falsely accused surged within me. Tears fell one by one.

After some time, archaeology students arrived with police officers.

The man leading them with graying temples was my father. Behind him, my boyfriend Stephen carried a briefcase.

Five years had passed, aging my father considerably.

Stephen too had shed his youthful awkwardness, becoming a mature and strikingly charismatic man.

Father frowned slightly at the corpse in the sarcophagus.

"How long has this body been dead?"

"We estimate five or six years. Likely the work of tomb raiders.

Funeral spikes pierce its limbs and forehead—their signature method to trap wrongful deaths within the body."

At "tomb raiders," Father stiffened. Stephen's expression tightened.

But Father recovered instantly, stating casually, "Understood. Thank you for your efforts.

We'll take it from here."

"Of course."

An archaeology student grinned. "Officer Randy Williams, you've got a great son-in-law! Did he drive you here?"

He waved at Stephen. Thunderstruck, I froze.

Father had only one daughter. If I was dead... who had married Stephen?

"Indeed. After this, we're dining with Kim Thompson and Stephen's family. The grandsons miss their grandparents."

Father's face softened. Stephen smiled faintly.

I stared numbly. My heart felt slowly carved by a blunt knife, bleeding relentlessly.

My boyfriend had married another and fathered children. My parents embraced a stranger as their daughter.

That stranger was my murderer.

My remains were taken for forensic examination.

Yet my spirit inexplicably clung to Father and Stephen.

I watched Stephen drive, telling Father cheerfully, "Kyle and Liam keep begging for Grandpa's stories. They'll be thrilled to see you."

"Those rascals only want my tales!" Father chuckled, radiating joy.

Their conversation stabbed me with dull agony. My disappearance seemed inconsequential—perhaps even convenient.

Stephen wed his dream girl; my parents gained a dutiful new daughter and two grandsons.

The car stopped. They entered a private dining room. Two children rushed toward them shouting "Daddy! Grandpa!"

But my gaze locked onto the woman gently supporting Mother.

My murderer. Kim.

"Stephen, you're here? Mom and I waited so long." Kim's voice dripped sickly sweetness.

Five years ago, that same saccharine voice had laughed with tomb raiders while urging them to kill me.

My eyes burned crimson, my whole body trembling with hatred. I longed to tear off that hypocritical mask with my own hands!

I tried lunging to strangle her, but passed through her body countless times.

In the end, I could only watch helplessly as she nestled against Stephen with a radiant smile.

"Sorry to keep you waiting."

Stephen's voice held a tenderness I'd never heard before, his eyes overflowing with affection.

"Hungry? Let's have the waiter serve."

Kim pouted playfully, "Starving! Mom and I already ordered everything. What took you so long?"

"We discovered a hidden chamber in the ancient tomb—a skeleton inside. The National Archaeological Institute called me over," Dad stated calmly.

I saw Kim's smile freeze. She shifted uncomfortably. "Is it... the tomb from five years ago?"

Mom's chopsticks clattered onto the table. A tear glistened briefly before vanishing.

She shot Dad a reproachful look. "We're eating! Must you mention such an unlucky place?"

Before Dad could respond, Kim spoke sorrowfully, "Mom, I shouldn't have brought it up. Does it remind you of Sister Shirley Williams?"

Stephen slammed his chopsticks down. His expression turned icy, undisguised disgust radiating even before my parents.

"Why mention her? Isn't it sickening?"

A flicker of triumph crossed Kim's eyes, yet she feigned concern.

"Don't say that... Mom and Dad are here..."

"Stephen's right," Mom declared, gently holding Kim's hand while her words pierced like knives.

"I've no idea what sin I committed in my past life to birth such a treasonous wretch. I've long disowned her! You're my only daughter, Kim."

Dad's face hardened. "That coward deserved execution! She should've died in that tomb—spared me this disgrace!"

Watching my closest kin regard me with such contempt, my soul quivered in agony.

Tears streamed down, splattering soundlessly on the floor, leaving no trace.

Once my name vanished from conversation, the meal grew warm again.

Mom and Dad each cradled a chubby grandson, coaxing them to eat; Stephen served Kim dishes and soup with utmost care.

This was the scene I'd always dreamed of—except Kim now sat in my place.

Stephen was a lawyer. We met at a blind date. He wasn't my match that day—mine was a repulsive, arrogant man.

That man sneered at my career as an archaeological researcher, calling it grave robbing, earning money from the dead.

Trembling with rage, I was about to erupt when Stephen rose from the next table.

His voice cut coldly through the air. "Archaeological research is a great profession. Don't equate it with tomb raiding. All work deserves respect—mind your words!"

In that moment, Stephen shone like a beacon.

I pursued him relentlessly for two months. Then, we were together.

He treated me with gentle care, fulfilling my every wish; he showed respect and devotion to my parents too.

Everyone said I'd found a gem, and even I believed it.

I thought we'd live happily like this until we walked down the aisle.

But one unexpected day, he crossed paths with Kim again.

Only then did I realize how vast the difference was between how he treated someone he loved and someone he didn't.

He'd drink himself sick shielding Kim from toasts; he'd abandon me at the research institute to catch a cab home while rushing to pick Kim up after work; during thunderous rainstorms, he'd dash out past midnight just to comfort her because he worried she'd be scared.

We argued countless times, but it always ended unresolved.

He'd invariably snap impatiently, "Kim and I are just friends. She's alone in this city—I should look out for her!"

"Must you make a scene? I'm exhausted after work. Can't you cut me some slack?"

"I told you I don't feel that way about her. If I did, we'd be together. I just help her because she's fragile. Think what you want!"

Each word stabbed my heart. A sudden weariness washed over me, and I began questioning whether to end this.

Yet when I mentioned breaking up, everyone opposed it.

Friends called me oversensitive, saying men having close female friends was normal.

My advisor gently urged me not to be rash, praising Stephen as a rare man who respected archaeology.

My parents scolded me for being ungrateful, insisting I'd won the lottery with him.

Stephen massaged his temples, exhausted, asking what would satisfy me so I'd stop threatening to leave.

Isolated and cornered, my anxiety neared breaking point.

Then Kim sought me out, demanding to join the expedition to ancient ruins. She vowed to vanish from our lives afterward.

I refused. Yet somehow she learned our schedule, appearing at the tomb entrance, flat-out refusing to leave.

Not to delay the team, I reluctantly brought her along. Little did I know it would cost me my life.

The day we descended was damp and chilly. Kim clung behind me, eyes darting nervously. I ignored her.

The untouched tomb brimmed with burial treasures. The team buzzed, thrilled by these traces of history.

But our joy shattered when hidden clods of earth cracked open.

Professor Logan's face paled as he hissed, "Take cover!"

"Tomb raiders!" His expression turned grave.

Fear gripped us all.

We'd heard the legends—never dreamed we'd face them.

The professor told us to scatter and hide, handing me the collected burial treasures.

He left with the signal transmitter, saying he'd alert the police stationed outside.

Just as I tried to find a hiding spot with Kim, I realized she'd vanished.

My heart pounding, I felt along the wall and unexpectedly discovered a hidden chamber. At its center stood a sarcophagus, its hollow base revealing another secret room.

I immediately knew this was the perfect place to stash the artifacts.

Carefully placing the burial treasures inside, I'd just emerged when voices echoed from beyond the chamber.

"You sure that woman came this way with the jewels?"

"Positive. The treasures in her hands could fund your lifetimes!"

That confident female voice chilled me—I instantly recognized Kim's tone.

Footsteps drew nearer, separated only by a wall.

"Where's anyone here, bitch? Dare lie to us? Got a death wish?!"

The chamber I'd sealed showed them nothing but blank stone. Their voices dripped with murderous intent.

I heard Kim plead desperately, "No, no, please don't kill me! I swear I saw her come this way..."

The tomb raiders advanced relentlessly.

To save herself, Kim shamelessly clung to them while stripping. "Spare me, I beg you. Do anything you want..."

Her striking looks soon inflamed the raiders' lust, and they took her right there.

Trembling, I activated my phone's recorder, capturing every sound.

After what felt like eternity, the obscene noises ceased, replaced by rustling clothes.

Just as I thought I'd escaped, a raider knocked the wall and exclaimed, "A hidden chamber!"

My blood froze. I shook uncontrollably.

While they searched for mechanisms, I swiftly hid my phone in the sub-chamber and muffled my sobs inside the sarcophagus.

The chamber door burst open. Seven or eight tomb raiders surged in.

The moment they spotted me, Kim pointed viciously.

"That's her! She hid all the treasures!!"

They bound and tortured me, but I stayed silent.

Prodded by Kim, they crucified me inside the sarcophagus with five funeral spikes, sealed the chamber, and fled with scant loot.

Kim then stabbed herself, posing as a victim while fabricating lies.

"Shirley stripped to seduce those raiders for her life—she ignored my pleas!"

"She ran off with the treasures! When I tried stopping her, she stabbed me!"

Her story crumbled under scrutiny, with only torn clothes as dubious evidence.

Yet Stephen, the lawyer, swallowed every word. He nailed me to public shame, leaving me despised by all.

My bones and the Truth lay buried in that sarcophagus for five long years.

Inside the ancient tomb, Professor Logan carefully examined the sarcophagus.

Suddenly, he spotted something unusual. Reaching inside, he felt around until the bottom flipped open, revealing a hidden chamber.

"Professor! This sarcophagus has a mechanism!" an archaeology student exclaimed in excitement.

A faint smile touched Logan's lips as he motioned for several students with flashlights to gather around.

The hidden chamber was cramped, barely fitting two or three people. Logan and one student descended while others illuminated the space from above.

The small chamber soon flooded with light.

Logan began cataloging items on the floor when his gaze froze, locked onto a corner.

Following his stare, the student frowned. "Why is there a backpack here?"

In the corner sat a dust-covered black backpack, glaringly out of place among the artifacts.

Logan staggered toward it, brushing off layers of dust. His eyes reddened, hands trembling so violently he could barely grip the zipper.

As the zipper slowly opened, its contents came into view.

"Professor, aren't these... the artifacts tomb raiders stole earlier?" the student gasped.

Tears streamed down Logan's weathered face. Choking back sobs, he whispered, "Shirley... Oh, Shirley..."

This was the very backpack he'd personally given Shirley. Every single artifact remained inside.

Shirley hadn't betrayed them to join the tomb raiders like Kim claimed! Then where could she be?

Logan's mind flashed to the skeleton in the sarcophagus—nailed down with five funeral spikes.

His legs buckled, sending him crashing to the floor. Students rushed to help, but he shoved them away.

With shaking hands, he pulled out his phone and dialed the police department.

"Compare the DNA from today's remains to Shirley, missing five years ago. Immediately!"

Moments after hanging up, a student cried out, "Professor! There's a phone here!"

Logan scrambled over as the student gingerly handed him a dust-caked device.

On its back, a playful "S" character was etched.

Shirley's phone!

Red-eyed with urgency, Logan mashed the power button repeatedly.

Nothing.

"Professor, the battery's dead," the student offered gently.

Understanding dawned on Logan. Emerging from the chamber, he frantically searched for a compatible charger.

Thirty minutes later, the screen lit up.