Chapter 4

"Don't take it to heart."

He poured a glass of warm water, found a box of extra-strength painkillers from the first-aid kit, and handed them to me.

I took them and swallowed two pills.

"Thank you."

He studied my ghostly pale face.

"When I was sick years ago, I couldn't sleep at all."

"The doctors told me I had less than six months to live."

"Every night, the pain made me want to crash my head against the wall. Even breathing felt like torture."

"Everyone around me was just waiting for me to die so they could split my estate. No one thought I'd make it."

"But I refused to give up. I dragged myself through chemotherapy and surgeries."

"And look at me now. I'm still standing."

He turned back to look at the night sky.

"No matter how cruel the world is to you, your life belongs to you. Don't give up on it easily."

For the first time since my rebirth, I felt a flicker of genuine human warmth.

I gripped the warm glass of water.

"I understand."

Over the next few days, life was relatively quiet.

Under Arthur's warnings, Chloe stopped causing trouble for me openly.

But she still hated my guts.

Every time we passed each other in the hallway, she would deliberately bump my shoulder.

Or at dinner, she would push the dishes she knew I disliked right in front of me.

Ethan always watched from the sidelines, never participating, but never stopping her either.

I didn't care.

One afternoon, I came back from a hospital checkup.

The oncologist told me that the tumor was spreading much faster than expected. I had two months left. At most.

I pushed open my bedroom door, only to find Chloe rifling through my duffel bag.

Ethan was leaning against the doorframe, frowning as he watched her.

"What are you looking for? Get out of there before Dad catches you."

Chloe was stubborn.

"Mind your business."

"I just want to see what kind of trash she's hiding in here."

She dumped the bag upside down. Several empty prescription pill bottles tumbled out.

Along with them was a worn, faded photograph of my Grandma Maeve.

Seeing me walk in, Chloe froze, clutching one of the empty pill bottles.

The mocking words she was about to say died in her throat.

"Why... why do you have so many of these heavy painkillers?"

She stammered.

I walked over, quietly took the photo of my grandmother from her hands.

I carefully wiped her fingerprints off the photo with my sleeve.

Then, I swept the empty pill bottles back into my drawer.

"Are you done?"

My voice was as faint as a whisper.

"If you're done, please zip my bag back up."

Ethan stared at the pill bottles, then at the photo of my grandmother. His eyes grew complicated.

He stood up straight, grabbed Chloe's arm, and pulled her back.

In a stiff but sincere voice, he said, "I'm sorry. She shouldn't have touched your things."

I stared at Grandma Maeve's smiling face in the photo.

"No need to apologize."

"Nothing lasts anyway."

Those words seemed to strike a chord in Ethan.

He looked at my dead, hollow eyes, his expression shifting into something unreadable as he dragged Chloe out of the room.

The room fell silent again.

A moment later, my phone vibrated frantically.

My dad had sent over a dozen texts on Snapchat.

"That stupid bitch put my jeans in the washing machine! The lottery ticket is ruined!"

"It's all gone! Shredded into paper pulp!"

"Did you know this would happen?! Why didn't you warn me before you left?!"

"We're getting a divorce now!"

"Pick up your phone! Get over here!"

Looking at the angry texts, I could perfectly picture his veins popping on his forehead.

In my past life, I had practically burned my hands trying to fish that ticket out of the washing machine to save him.

And what did I get? He abandoned me the moment he got the cash.

I coldly typed back a few words:

"I didn't know."

Then I blocked him, silenced my phone, and threw it onto the bed.

My head throbbed violently again. I popped two of my new painkillers and swallowed them dry.

That evening, I went for a walk along the tree-lined path outside the estate.

The fresh air helped ease my headaches a bit.

Just as I turned a corner, a shadow blocked my path.

It was my dad.