Chapter 7
Amanda fought tooth and nail in the divorce agreement, making countless sacrifices just to secure my custody.
Bruce was the CEO of Grandeur Entertainment. Amanda, on the other hand, was a beloved teacher at a prestigious high school.
But their story wasn’t one of those fairy tales where a rich heir fell head over heels for a simple girl.
My parents built their life from the ground up, weathering every storm together.
Even after we started to live more comfortably, Amanda never gave up her passion for teaching.
In my previous life, under her careful and loving guidance, I earned a spot at the nation’s top university.
But while she poured everything into raising me and working late into the night, her health began to crumble.
It got so bad that she eventually suffered kidney failure, and the cost of her daily dialysis began to drain our savings dry.
Desperate, I swallowed my pride and went to Bruce.
I held tight to the notion that, despite everything, I was his biological daughter.
With this in mind, I harbored a fragile hope that his shared history with Amanda might stir some compassion within him, compelling him to aid <her in her battle against the relentless grip of disease.
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But I was turned away at the door of his luxurious office. The receptionist, with a sneer that still haunts me, treated me like a beggar or a scam artist.
“Chasing after riches, gold digger? Maybe you should check your reflection. It’s no secret that the boss only has a son, who was just ten years ‘old.”
I wanted to argue that I was his daughter. But before I could, I saw a figure standing in the shadows.
My body froze, and I bit back my tears, too humiliated to let them fall.
Not long after, I received the news that I had topped the SAT, earning the highest score in the entire state.
Suddenly, my face was splashed across every newspaper, and my story was known by every household.
But even with this newfound fame, all I could think about was how I was going to pay for Amanda’s medical bills.
I asked Eric Kingsley, my classmate, if he knew of any tutoring jobs.
For three years, we shared a desk. He came from a lineage steeped in literature, and this heritage bestowed upon him a scholarly grace that meshed seamlessly with the vibrant zest of his youth. This combination was so utterly enchanting that one couldn’t help but be drawn to him.
To say I felt nothing for him would be dishonest.
It was in those electric moments that the spark of young love ignited.
A single exchanged glance was all it took for us to communicate, as though our hearts whispered to each other in a language only we understood.
Thanks to my title as the top scorer and his glowing recommendations, my tutoring schedule quickly filled up.
For the first time, I could cover Amanda’s medical expenses without worrying about where the money would come from. It felt like a weight had been lifted, and miraculously, Amanda’s health began to improve.
But then, disaster struck. My tutoring classes were reported because I didn’t have a license.
By law, I had to refund all the fees I’d collected and pay a fine five times the amount.
It was as if the sky had fallen.
My students, confused and concerned, stared at me.
The classroom was the cramped rental where Amanda and I lived.
There was no room for financial extras; the little money I made teaching barely stuck around, disappearing as quickly as learned it.
The hospital bills flowed out like an endless river; each treatment demanded payment.
If I lost this job, how on earth would I cover those costs?
I hugged myself tightly and wept aloud.
Eric, ever the gentle soul, sent the students away and handed me tissues to wipe my tears. My eyes were red and swollen, and through my sobs, I asked him what I should do next.
Before that moment, I had been sheltered from the world’s harshness.
But now, in the blink of an eye, I was forced to grow up to bear the weight of our family’s survival like an adult.
There was a knock at the door. Eric opened it, letting in someone unexpected.
Dressed in an expensive suit, Bruce looked out of place in our cozy home.
He smiled politely at Eric, thanking him for his help.
Watching their
3:34 PM
Watching their casual interaction sent a chill down my spine.
Bruce offered to fund my university education and cover all of Amanda’s medical expenses. With a snap of his fingers, he could erase all the helplessness I’d been feeling.
His sole stipulation was that I had to make an appearance at his company’s initial public offering event.
He intended to leverage my reputation as the highest academic achiever to elevate his company’s prestige.
It wasn’t just any day that a wealthy CEO got the chance to brag about his daughter, especially when she had nailed the SAT with top scores.
I had no reason to refuse, and truth be told, I didn’t have the courage to
That evening, as I prepared to bring Amanda her soup, my phone rang.
It was the hospital. My heart dropped. Amanda was dying.
I didn’t remember ending the call or the frantic dash to the hospital.
But the stark reality was clear; I was too late to say goodbye to my mother.
The doctor explained, with a sympathetic look, that her condition had deteriorated alarmingly fast, probably triggered by an intense emotional surge.
The nurse who was on duty that day mentioned seeing an elegant woman in her thirties enter Amanda’s room.
Desperate for answers, I tried to view the security tapes, but the hospital staff exploited my vulnerability.
They looked at me and saw nothing but a young girl, easy to brush aside. Without a moment’s hesitation, they called security to march me out the door.
Deep down, I knew who that woman was. I had seen her once during my parents‘ divorce.
But I couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t just leave us alone.
What had we done to deserve this?
After the funeral, I lingered at the cemetery long after everyone had left.
On my way back, I was intercepted by my brother I had never met.
Although he was just ten years old, his body had the bulk of an adult, likely from too much good eating.
Meanwhile, my own arms were thin and petite; truly reflecting the youth of a girl who was ten years old.
He and his cronies dragged me by the hair into a secluded alley, a place so sparse in residents it felt eerily abandoned.
There, my cries for help were useless, only fueling their excitement.
Their blows rained down on me, each one harder than the last.
I curled up into a ball, hoping that if I endured it long enough, they’d grow tired and leave me alone.
But the pain was relentless, sharper with each passing moment.
My vision blurred, a veil of blood clouding my eyes.
As I lay there, gasping for breath, I thought of Amanda. At least her medical debts wouldn’t burden me anymore.
I also thought of the university I’d never get to see, wondering if it was as beautiful as they said.
Such a pity. There would be no second chances for me.
Chapter 7.
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Chapter 7
But why? Why did the glimmer of hope in our lives have to fade just when things were starting to look up?
My thoughts jerked back to reality. My mind was focused on one dark desire.
I wanted to kill all of them.
I reached for the doorknob, ready to storm out of the hospital room, but then I saw Mike.
His solemn eyes were fixed on me.
“Girl,” he said, “don’t do something you’ll regret. If not for yourself, then do it for your mother. She still has a chance in this life.”
My feet froze in place.
Inside, my soul was screaming, “No! Why should I spare them? They all deserve to die!”
But what came out of my mouth was quieter.
“Isn’t this all just some illusion? Why do you say that, Mr. Sage?”
In my previous existence, when death claimed me, my soul was seething with such anger that even the gates of hell barred my entry. Charon,
the ferryman of the underworld, wouldn’t take my coin, scared that it wouldn’t be enough to quell the tempest of my wrath.
So, I was sent to Mike, who was tasked with the mission to purge my soul of its rage before I could ever hope to be reborn.
But no one could turn back time.
Instead, Mike used the Huestone to create a mirror world identical to the one I knew.
He erased my memories of the pain that followed, allowing me to live again with only the memories of my earlier, happier days.
“But this world is not real, is it? It’s just a fantasy built from my memories, right?”
Just as I was about to drown in that hopeless thought, Mike’s dry, weathered hand gently patted my head.
He sighed, “This is why I wanted you to let go of those memories. This world is an illusion, yes, but not entirely. At the very least, you and your mother are real souls in it. In a world that constantly teeters toward chaos, humans are the only bastions of order. We are incessantly nudged by unseen forces towards chaos, be it in the tapestry of our relationships or the balance of our health. Your mother’s illness wasn’t just from exhaustion; it was her fate. But now, someone has deliberately altered her fate. Her destiny has changed, and perhaps it’s a blessing in disguise.”
