Chapter 4

If Cathy's father's friend hadn't cut corners on the site, maybe that I-beam never would have fallen.

That whole tangled "debt of a life" had shackled me for years, forcing me into a permanent bow before my cousin. It felt like swallowing something foul—impossible to reject, impossible to digest.

I took the Bugatti out onto the open highway, pushing it hard for miles before pulling into a station and filling the tank on my brother's account. Only then did the tightness in my chest ease slightly.

When I pulled up to the campus gates, I saw my father's car. He got out and handed me a folder.

"Sweetheart. Look this over."

A flicker of genuine surprise crossed my face.

It wasn't just the ten percent stake.

But because in my last life, my father never once came to see me in this city before I died. Now, he'd flown across the country just to deliver papers.

"It's cold. Your assistant could have handled this," I said, my tone flat.

My tepid show of concern seemed to sharpen his discomfort.

"I… I also came to arrange your leave."

Suspicion coiled in my gut. He wasn't here to drag me onto that "family" trip to Aerope, was he?

"The day after tomorrow is the anniversary," he said. "The custom is that you…"

That I would kneel at the gravesite for three days and three nights, to repay the life that was owed.

That was Cathy's tradition.

I'd done it for a decade. I once believed that if I were dutiful enough, my father and brother would finally see me.

But after dying once, I no longer craved their approval.

"Dad, Cathy is his actual daughter. If she performs the rites, it would mean more," I said calmly.

"I'm in the middle of a critical research phase. Leaving now could jeopardize my entire future in the program."

The moment the words left my mouth, my father's face darkened.

"Cathy was right about you," he said coldly. "All that concern you showed was an act. You're still bitter about the trip."

He threw a signed leave form at me.

"The dean approved this himself! I don't care what 'groundbreaking' work you're doing—nothing is more important than showing respect!"

My heart turned to ice.

For thirteen years, my cousin had never once visited her father's grave, citing her fragile health.

And my father knew perfectly well my principal investigator was a pioneer in genomic research.

It had taken everything I had to earn a spot in that lab.

If I walked away now, I'd be blacklisted in the entire field.

Yet, he chose to sacrifice my future without a second thought.

It seemed that no matter how many times I lived, I would never come first in his eyes.

"Fine. I'll go back with you."

A deep, settling cold filled me. Suddenly, simply fighting for an inheritance felt too small.

We arrived in Tempas City well past midnight.

My destroyed room remained untouched.

"Audrey, I didn't let anyone clean up in here," Cathy said airily. "You should handle it yourself. If anything else goes missing, I can't be held responsible."

I almost laughed. She'd had the nerve to destroy my mother's things, but was worried I'd lose something?

I locked the door behind me without a word.

I'd only meant to clear a small space to sleep, but instead, I found an envelope. Inside was a will.

My mother had prepared it long ago, leaving all her personal assets and her shares in the family trust to me.

Combined with the ten percent from my father, it gave me controlling interest.

But… had she known she was going to die that day?

At first light, I called the attorney listed on the document.

My voice was tight. "Mr. Avery. I need to see you. Now."

So it hadn't been an accident after all.

I stared at the investigator's report, my hands trembling, tears of rage blurring the words.

Then something in me broke. I drove home like a storm, screeching to a halt in the driveway.

"Cathy! You viper! Give me back my mother!"

My brother grabbed me from behind. My father stepped forward and struck me across the face.

When the ringing in my ears faded, my voice was raw.

"Her father was a fraud. That was no accident—it was negligence covered up as a hero's death!"

My father didn't believe me. He raised his hand again.

"You ungrateful child! Three days of kneeling is too much for you? How dare you smear our savior's name!"

"Savior?"

I laughed harshly, my eyes bloodshot as I clamped down on my father's wrist.

Once the inheritance process was complete, I would hold absolute authority over the family holdings.

What right did they have to command me any longer?

"If you owe him a life so desperately," I said, my voice dropping to a deadly calm, "then you go kneel."