Chapter 2

In my past life, I had begged Michael to return those study materials to me, but when Monica saw that, she thought I was deliberately making things difficult for him and drove me out without a second thought.

That day was bitterly cold, with rain pounding down loudly. Monica and Michael were sitting by the floor-to-ceiling window as they ate their dinner, while I stood stubbornly outside until I blacked out.

I would never do something that stupid again, though. I deliberately lowered my head to pack up my things, pretending not to notice her gaze.

Monica looked at me in silence for two seconds before grabbing Michael and leaving, slamming the door behind her.

They were both laughing merrily and fooling around downstairs the entire afternoon, only to fall silent the moment Doreen Hall, the housekeeper, called me downstairs for dinner. They acted as though my arrival had totally ruined the mood.

I didn't really react; I just silently ate the food on my plate.

Michael suddenly placed a pork cutlet onto my plate and said, "You should try this, Hugh. I specifically asked Doreen to make it for you."

I hesitated for a moment before saying, "Thank you, but I don't eat pork."

Michael looked embarrassed. He went rigid and looked down, looking so pitiful that it could break one's heart.

"What's the big deal if you take one bite? Is it going to kill you?" Monica slammed her cutlery onto the table, her glare making it glaringly obvious that she thought I was faking it.

I looked at her resentful gaze, unable to understand when everything had changed. She had treated me like a fragile doll when she first brought me back home at 12 years old, meticulously checking my three meals every single day.

She had taken me to travel to various places when I was 13 years old, doing everything she could to broaden my horizons. She had single-handedly gone after the school when I was 14 years old, after finding out that a classmate of mine had mocked me for my accent, forcing the classmate to apologize to me.

…

I was clenching my fists so hard that my fingernails dug deep into my palms. I quickly looked away, not wanting her to catch this brief moment of weakness of mine. I reopened my eyes a few seconds later, and I was back to being calm and detached.

It was half an hour later, and the rain began to fall outside right on cue. I then heard the exact words Monica had said to me in my past life. "Michael is staying over tonight. He's afraid of the dark, and since the lights in the guestroom are broken, you two are swapping rooms."

Monica stared intently at me while saying this, seemingly certain that I would lose my temper. She wasn't wrong to think so; after all, in my past life, I had indeed thrown a massive fit and turned the whole house upside down.

Michael ended up backing down and staying in that dark room, but because he suffered a panic attack, he had to be rushed to the hospital.

It was from that moment forward that my relationship with Monica hit a freezing point.

It didn't matter to me anymore since I was moving out in a couple of days anyway. I had no problem vacating the room and giving it to him right then and there.

Upon seeing me agree so readily, Michael was visibly ecstatic and practically jumped for joy. Monica, however, looked momentarily dazed, her gaze tinged with desolation as she watched my figure ascend the stairs.

It had been quite some time since the guestroom had been aired out, so the quilt smelled a bit musty, which actually brought back memories of my hometown.

I recalled my incompetent father, my cruel stepmother, my loyal childhood friends, and the elderly neighbor who used to secretly slip me crisp apples. I slowly drifted off to sleep while surrounded by these various memories.

It was then that a sudden, piercing scream woke me with a start, and before long, panicked footsteps echoed down the hallway.

I opened the door, only for a hand to roughly grab my collar and yank me outside.

Monica shoved me hard onto the floor, her face twisted with a mixture of rage and disappointment. "You're too malicious, Hugh! I'll make sure you end up behind bars if anything happens to Michael!"

She helped Michael, whose face was twisted with pain, and slowly led him downstairs after saying that.

It was only then that I noticed the blood covering Michael's back, along with a few thumbtacks stuck into it. I shook my groggy head and braced myself against the railing to stand; my fingers, which were injured from the fall, were still trembling.

I had already chosen to step back in this life, but Michael still wouldn't leave me alone.

I had already prepared for this possibility, though. I went into the room and retrieved the camera I had hidden behind the vase.

Thankfully, since Michael hadn't turned off the lights, the footage captured every moment of him scattering the thumbtacks.