How Did Ed Sunderson Die In Fargo?

When Joy Staton, my adoptive sister, fainted in the freezer on her birthday, William Staton, my brother, checked on the security footage in rage. The moment he saw that I was the one who took Joy into the freezer, he kicked me inside without hesitation. Before shutting the door, he stared at me in disgust. “You’ve been pushing your luck a lot these days, huh? If I’d been a second too late, Joy would’ve died!” I wanted to defend myself, but William refused to listen and slammed the door shut. I heard him talking to the bodyguards outside. “If she doesn’t apologize, don’t let her out!” But he did not know that Joy had set the freezer to –58 °F. I did not even have the strength to complain about the freezer being cold. William did not know that the sister he once loved dearly had stopped breathing in the freezer. He had killed his only blood relative left in the world.

On the Northwind Trail, just before sunrise, my flashlight cut across the inside of the SUV and landed on five lifeless bodies. My hands shook as I dialed 911. "Hello? I'm on Route 296, the Northwind Trail. Everyone in my car… is dead." The operator's voice was calm but quick. "Please confirm your location. Officers are on their way." My words dropped heavy and flat, like stones hitting the ground. "I'm on Route 296, about three miles east of the mountain pass. The plate number is NA318X. Five people inside the car are dead… and I'm the only one alive."

My father-in-law, Eason Chapman, suffers from a sudden heart attack. On the way to the hospital, I'm forced to a stop by a Ferrari. Knowing that the Ferrari belongs to my wife, Cindy Chapman, I lower the car window and tell her to make way for me right away and to not waste any time. What I don't expect is to see Cindy in a state of undress while she's sitting in the front passenger seat. Meanwhile, her first love, Harley Gunn, is the one behind the wheel. "You really have grown bold, Ian Jowett! How dare you take my dad's car out on a spin! Don't forget that you're just a live-in son-in-law!" I glance at the rearview mirror, where Eason's face has already gone blue. Then, I yell in alarm, "Hurry up and get out of the way! Dad is suffering from a heart attack right now! I need to take him to the hospital!" Cindy screams at me angrily, "How dare you use my dad's luxurious car to give your dying, broke dad a ride to the hospital! Get him out of the car right now! Don't jinx my dad's car with your dad's death!" I'm not in the mood to fight with Cindy, so I put my foot down on the gas pedal and start speeding toward the hospital. Throughout the journey, Cindy keeps stopping me with her Ferrari, causing me to brake repeatedly. In the end, Ian closes his eyes in the backseat forever.

Ariel and I married into the Jahn family—and got knocked up around the same time. I landed Edmond, the older brother and a hotshot forensic pathologist. She got Philip, the cop. At six months pregnant, I started bleeding. Instead of rushing me to the ER, Edmond dragged me into an OR. "Keyla was in a car crash. Messed up her leg. Whatever this is, deal with it later. Help her first." Ariel tried yanking me out, but Philip was already outside, blocking the door. "Keyla's the patient. If you've got an ounce of medical ethics, you'll save her." We were trapped. So, we did the surgery. Then Keyla had someone cut us open and dump our bodies in the woods. We died hating them all. Edmond and Philip didn't figure it out till they dug us up—too little, way too late.

I died on my birthday, but neither my parents nor my husband noticed. They were too busy pouring all their attention into planning my twin sister, Esme Shaw's, birthday party. While she was surrounded by people helping her pick out a gown, I was tied up and thrown into the basement. With what little strength I had left, I forced my broken fingers to press in the code—9395. It was a signal my husband, Edwin Grant, and I had once agreed on. It was a straightforward way to call for help in the event of danger. I never thought I would actually need it one day. But when I sent it, he didn't believe me. His reply was cold, "Claudia, just because I didn't take you shopping for a new dress, you've decided to put on a show? "You can still wear last year's gown. Stop making trouble. I'll see you at the party later." What he didn't know was that Esme had already shredded that gown into pieces. And what he couldn't imagine was that the moment after he hung up, I was already gone. So, when the celebration began, I never appeared. But when everyone saw the birthday gift I had prepared for Esme ahead of time, the entire room lost its mind.

After catching my supposedly frigid wife, Emmy Winslow, aroused by our household robot butler, I swallowed my disgust and sent the machine to a destruction facility. I never expected that decision to cost her life. On the way to chase after the robot, Emmy was involved in a horrific car accident and died at the scene. From that day on, I became notorious in our social circle as the jealous husband who drove his wife to her death. Five years passed. Night after night, I tortured myself by wondering if she would still be alive had I not been so petty over a machine. Until today, while discussing business at a private club, I passed a half-open VIP suite and heard one of Emmy's closest friends teasing her. "Emmy, how much longer are you planning to keep up this fake-death act?" A familiar voice answered, one I could never mistake, that was tinged with indulgence and amusement. "As soon as Corbin Ellery's heart condition is cured. Back then, if Grayson hadn't insisted on sending the butler to the destruction plant, Corbin wouldn't have needed to pretend his system malfunctioned. And I wouldn't have had to fake my death to help him disappear completely." Another friend clicked her tongue. "Still, nobody expected you to go this far. Having Corbin wear a custom synthetic skin suit and pose as a robot butler right under your husband's nose all those years? That's insane." Fake death? Corbin? The blood drained from my face. The woman I had mourned for five years was alive. And the robot that had stirred her desire had never been a robot at all. It was my closest friend. A passing server accidentally slammed into me, sending a tray crashing to the floor. The conversation inside stopped instantly. Emmy turned toward the doorway, and our eyes met.