Rebirth: I'm Not Taking the Blame

The moment I found myself sitting in that car again, I couldn't help but shudder.

Memories of the horrific ending from my previous life came rushing back, leaving me feeling as if I had been plunged into an icy abyss.

My parents had gone gray almost overnight while trying to compensate the victims' families. They were both retired, yet they worked themselves to death because of me.

Meanwhile, I had been sitting in prison, unable to even see them one last time.

Then there were all those innocent families whose lives had been ruined because of me. I could still remember the hatred in their eyes whenever they looked at me.

But one thing didn't make sense. I was sure that the brakes had failed, so why had every inspection facility insisted that there was nothing wrong with the car?

I was just an ordinary person. There was no way all of them were conspiring against me.

So, where exactly did things go wrong?

The car was still speeding down the interstate, so I gripped the steering wheel tightly with both hands.

I had been driving for nearly two decades and considered myself an experienced driver, but for the first time in my life, I began to doubt myself.

Looking at the cars flying past at high speed, cold sweat broke out across my forehead.

I slowly pressed the brake pedal. Just like before, it wouldn't move!

My heart hammered so hard it felt like it was trying to burst out of my chest. What should I do? Was I destined to suffer the same horrific fate all over again?

No. Absolutely not!

I slapped myself hard, forcing myself to calm down.

Taking my foot off the gas, I switched on my right turn signal and carefully guided the car onto the shoulder.

I let it coast along the side of the road until it finally came to a complete stop.

The moment the car stopped, I called the highway roadside assistance.

"Hi, my brakes have failed. I need a tow truck."

I waited a long time before a technician finally arrived.

He carefully inspected the car from top to bottom, and his conclusion was, "Ma'am, there's nothing wrong with your car. The brakes are working perfectly."

How was that possible? Just minutes ago, I had pressed the brake pedal as hard as I could, but it didn't work at all.

I told him exactly what happened.

The technician asked me to sit in the passenger seat while he started the car, demonstrating the brakes for me on the shoulder.

No matter how many times he pressed the pedal, the brakes worked perfectly!

"Ma'am, try not to panic. Maybe you were so nervous that you accidentally stepped on the wrong pedal."

Watching how effortlessly he repeatedly applied the brakes, I couldn't help but question myself. Could that really have been the problem?

But I had been driving for nearly 20 years. I had spent years driving on roads in terrible conditions, but never once had I failed to remain calm behind the wheel. How could I possibly have panicked on a perfectly straight interstate?

I still wasn't convinced and asked the technician to tow my car away.

The technician looked exasperated. "Ma'am, it's Thanksgiving weekend. We don't have any extra tow trucks available right now. If you're really that scared, take it slow in the right lane. Get off at the next exit and stay off the interstate.

"Once you're off the highway, call your insurance company. They'll arrange a tow for you."