Chapter 2

I sighed, but before I even had time to feel sad, a powerful force dragged me to Mom's side.

She was talking to my homeroom teacher on the phone.

"I'm sorry to trouble you. Nina definitely stole the class fund. I'll make her write a three-thousand-word confession tomorrow and apologize in front of the entire school."

My teacher explained, "Mrs. Conner, please don't jump to conclusions. The security department is still checking the surveillance footage. We haven't figured out what really happened yet. Please don't accuse your daughter before we know the truth."

Mom sneered.

"I know my daughter better than anyone. She's been sneaking around since she was little. She even stole twenty dollars from me not long ago. This time, I'm going to teach her a proper lesson and make sure she remembers it!"

Hearing that, I couldn't help but tremble all over.

I never thought I could still feel fear even after dying.

I recalled the incident Mom was talking about.

Twenty dollars had gone missing from the house. Mom decided I had stolen it, slapped me across the face, and forced me to confess.

I cried and screamed that I hadn't stolen anything. In the end, my throat became so hoarse that I couldn't make a sound, and my body was covered in bloody welts from the stick.

Even so, she still refused to let me go. She stripped off all my clothes and dragged me out onto the street.

"If you won't admit it, I'll let everyone see what a thief looks like."

People gathered around. They were laughing and watching the spectacle while pointing at me and whispering.

All I could do was crouch down and bury my face between my knees.

In the end, a woman from the homeowners association couldn't bear to watch anymore and covered me with a coat.

She said to Mom, "Did you forget that you paid twenty dollars for the homeowners association fees a few days ago?"

Only then did Mom realize what had happened.

She tossed my clothes at me coldly without saying a word of apology. Instead, she complained, "If you didn't steal it, why didn't you explain yourself properly?"

'I've tried explaining on countless occasions. You've always refused to believe me, Mom.

'In your mind, I've always been a thief. Nothing I've said could ever change that.'

Before I knew it, a tear slid down my cheek.

It landed on Mom's forehead.

She froze for a few seconds before looking around suspiciously, wondering if there was a leak somewhere in the house. Feeling disgusted, she wiped the droplet away.

She continued complaining to my homeroom teacher.

"You may not know this, but she was the one who stole the gold jewelry from our neighbor back then. That's what got my eldest daughter killed. She really is a thief."

Jaslyn and I were twins, and we used to attend the same class.

Our homeroom teacher knew something about what had happened to our family.

She was silent for a moment.

"Mrs. Conner, the dead are gone, but life has to go on. Your other daughter is your flesh and blood too."

She paused before continuing.

"Nina is a good kid. I believe she wouldn't steal anything. As for the class fund, we'll notify you once we've investigated and found out the truth."

With that, she hung up before Mom could say another word.

I never expected that my homeroom teacher, who wasn't related to me at all, believed me.

I was happy.

Yet for some reason, that happiness came with a touch of bitterness.

After hanging up, perhaps thinking of her eldest daughter, Mom picked up Jaslyn's portrait and held it in her arms. She carefully wiped away the dust with a towel.

For the first time in two years, I saw a gentle expression on her face.

She chatted with the portrait about all sorts of things. She even hummed a little tune.

But could Jaslyn really hear her?

I didn't know.

All I knew was that it was already past midnight. I still hadn't come home, yet Mom wasn't worried in the slightest.

Perhaps she really believed that I had stolen the class fund and was too ashamed to return.

Just as I thought this, a sudden wave of pain shot through my lower leg.

It felt as though something had pierced my flesh.

The pain was excruciating.

The next second, I was pulled back to my corpse.

A stray dog had discovered my body.

It was getting ready to feast.

It had bitten a chunk out of my lower leg. Apparently unsatisfied, it moved toward my chest, sniffed around, and pawed my clothes open.