Chapter 3

It was 7:00 am on the 110th cycle.

My entire body was drenched in sweat as I leaped up from bed.

Taylor's and James' smiles were like blades that had plunged themselves into my heart.

I didn't stop Marilyn this time. I even personally packed her bag for her.

"Be good in school, Mary."

"I know, Mommy."

Surprise was etched all over Gabriel's face as he looked at me. "So, you've finally come to your senses."

"I have," I said with a smile. "You mentioned that Taylor wanted to eat my tiramisu, didn't you? I made some today. You can give it to her when you see her at the office."

Gabriel was immensely pleased. He even kissed me before he left the house, saying, "My wife is the best."

My smile disappeared the moment he left.

I didn't go to work, nor did I go to the kindergarten. Instead, I went to James' house.

After going through so many cycles, I had finally identified all the people who were connected to Marilyn's death.

James lived in an old residential area. When I knocked on the door, a haggard-looking woman opened it.

It was his wife, Ava Dawson.

"Are you looking for someone?" she asked.

"I'm Mary's mother. I wanted to thank Mr. Cook for always taking care of my daughter," I explained as I handed the fruit basket that I had prepared beforehand.

Ava led me into the house.

Although it was a tiny place, it was clean and tidy. A memorial photo of James hung on the wall.

My heart plummeted into my gut.

"Mr. Cook…"

"He passed away a year ago," Ava said with bloodshot eyes. "In a car accident."

A car accident a year ago?

There was a loud buzzing sound in my head.

That was impossible! He smiled at me every morning.

"Which accident?" I asked.

"The one that caused a chain-reaction collision a year ago. He swerved to the side to avoid hitting a child, but the steering wheel jammed, and he…"

Ava couldn't bring herself to finish her sentence.

I felt as if all the blood in my veins had turned to ice.

In the memorial photo, James' expression was stern, and he had a hollow look in his eyes. He looked like a completely different person compared to the man who smiled stiffly at me every morning.

The small memorial shrine on the shelf was covered in a thick layer of dust, making it obvious that it had been a long time since someone had cleaned it.

An inexplicable fear began to spread through my body.

If James had died a year ago, who was the man who drove the bus and smiled at me every morning?

I felt as if my soul had been sucked out of my body when I stepped out of James' home. A terrifying thought formed in my mind.

I rushed over to Gabriel's company. I hadn't even stepped through the entrance when I saw him and Taylor walking out of the building together.

Taylor's arm was locked around Gabriel's as she beamed at him affectionately.

Meanwhile, Gabriel gazed at her with a tenderness that I had never seen before.

I made a beeline for them.

"Gabriel!"

Their smiles stiffened when they saw me.

Gabriel subconsciously tried to push Taylor away, only for her to tighten her hold on him.

"What are you doing here, Nat?" she asked innocently. "Gabe was just telling me that you were feeling under the weather today. I wanted to visit you after work."

Taylor referred to Gabriel as "Gabe" as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"What's going on between the two of you?" I asked in a shaky voice.

"Don't cause a scene here, Natasha," Gabriel hissed, looking annoyed.

He tried to pull me away, but I freed myself from his hold and pointed at Taylor.

"You! You're the one who did it, aren't you? You're the one who hurt Mary!"

"What nonsense are you spouting?" Gabriel roared.

"What are you talking about, Nat? You can't frame me for something I didn't do," Taylor blubbered through her tears.

Their colleagues began to whisper among themselves.

"I'm framing you? You didn't sprain your ankle that day at the amusement park. You were lying!"

"I…"

Taylor averted her gaze.

"And Mr. Cook too! He died a year ago, so who's the man who's been driving the bus every morning?" I screamed as if I had lost my mind.

Gabriel's face twisted. "That's enough!" he shouted while grabbing my wrist. "Let's go home!"

He then hauled me into his car.

"You must be sick in the head, Natasha."

"I'm not! You're the one who's sick in the head! You and that woman!"

"Shut up!"

Gabriel slapped me hard across the face, making my ear ring.

"I'm taking you to see a doctor tomorrow," he said coldly.

I burst out laughing as I looked at him. "Sure. Let's go see a doctor. But before we do, let's drop by somewhere else. I want to go to the police station," I said, staring at him without blinking.