Chapter 2

On the morning of my eighteenth birthday, as soon as I opened my eyes, I saw that familiar figure.

The Reaper.

He stood silently by my bed, gripping a massive scythe.

"In three days, I will take you away."

He announced my time of death with cold, blunt certainty.

I stared blankly for a long time. I realized I wasn't even sad or scared.

I just thought, if I die, Kieran and the others will be thrilled, won't they?

They’d finally be rid of their jinx and could live happily ever after with Chloe.

I crawled out of my creaky, hard bed.

Waves of sharp pain hit my stomach, but I was used to it.

I took out a yellowed sticky note and carefully wrote down a single line:

[Before I die, I wish to have dinner with my family.]

When I finished, I folded the note meticulously and dropped it into a dusty glass jar on my desk.

The jar was already packed tight with little folded notes.

Those were my birthday wishes from the past decade.

Not a single one had ever come true.

Because ever since I was seven, no one had remembered my birthday, let alone celebrated it.

I put the lid back on the jar, took a deep breath, and dragged my heavy feet out of the attic.

As soon as I reached the second-floor landing, I heard soft laughter.

"Rhys, it's just a scrape. I'm really fine, you're making such a big deal out of it." It was Chloe's sweet, whiny voice.

I stopped and peered through the gaps in the banister.

Rhys was half-kneeling by the sofa, his eyes so tender they practically melted.

He held the highest-grade healing ointment, carefully applying it to Chloe's knee.

There was only a tiny scratch that hadn't even drawn blood.

"Be good, bear with it. I'm using the best medicine. By tomorrow, there won't even be a scar," Rhys said softly.

Watching this, my stomach began to cramp again.

I remembered the time my stomach hurt so badly I could barely walk. I stumbled to Rhys, tugged on his shirt, and begged him: "Rhys, my stomach hurts so much, could you please take a look..."

But Rhys just swatted my hand away in disgust, sneering coldly: "What does that have to do with me? A jinx like you is hard to kill. Just don't bring us any more bad luck!"

I gathered my courage and stepped out from the shadows of the stairs. "Rhys, Chloe..."

The warmth in the living room vanished instantly.

The tenderness on Rhys's face evaporated the second he saw me, replaced by undisguised disgust and defensiveness.

He pulled Chloe behind him, treating me like I was a deadly, contagious virus.

"What are you doing down here?" Rhys demanded coldly.

I nervously fiddled with the hem of my shirt and asked softly, "Tonight... could you have dinner with me?"

Chloe peeked out from behind Rhys and agreed sweetly, "Sure, I'll—"

"No!" Rhys frowned, cutting her off and rejecting me mercilessly. "We’re taking Chloe to a charity gala tonight. We don't have time to eat with you."

Chloe looked conflicted. "Sorry, Rhea. I guess we don't have time tonight. How about another day?"

Another day? I probably didn't have another day.

I forced a bitter smile. "Okay... I understand."

I turned to leave.

"Stop." Rhys called out, his voice like ice. "Don't think about pulling any stunts, Rhea. If you dare harm a single hair on Chloe's head, we will use everything we have to destroy you. Stay away from her."