Dear Alpha, Steal Me From My Lavender Marriage

In my previous life, I always knew that my sister's car accident was not just an accident. However, back then, I was only nine years old.

I could not bring myself to say anything.

If I did, I would be in for a world of hurt.

After my sister, Aria Smith, was born, I pretty much raised her until she was seven.

My parents did not make much—just twelve hundred dollars a month—and with twin boys coming after her, money was tight.

One night, half-asleep, I overheard my parents talking.

"Did you hear about Jeffrey's bull? It got hit by a car, and they paid him eighteen thousand dollars for it."

"If a person got hit, they'd have to shell out at least tens of thousands of dollars, right? We could finally build a house with that kind of money."

Mom glanced at my sister, snoozing on the bed, then at me, and whispered, "So, who's worth more?"

Dad paused before answering, "The older one is worth more, but she helps with the kids and lets you get to work earlier.

"As for the younger one, well, because of my sister, we didn't know if you were having a boy or a girl. Look, we got another girl."

Even at nine years old, I got the chilling message behind their words.

The next day, Grandma started taking Aria out to the roadside to play.

From our front door, I noticed she never held her hand when crossing the street.

I warned Aria to always be careful, and she promised she would.

However, one day, I watched as Grandma, fed up, stormed off ahead. Aria ran after her in tears.

Just like that, on the crosswalk, a car sent her flying. The driver, in a fancy car, paid out ninety thousand.

I never expected that coming back to life would mean waking up to a world where Aria had just died.

If only I could have come back before it all went down.