Chapter 3

"Don't take Carson's behavior to heart," Rebecca said.

She poured a glass of warm water, pulled a box of painkillers from the first-aid kit, and handed them to me.

I accepted them and swallowed two pills. "Thank you."

She studied my pale face. "When I was sick, I used to lie awake all night too. Back then, the doctors told me I wouldn't last six months. Every night, it hurt so much I wanted to slam my head against the wall. Even breathing felt like torture.

"Everyone around me was just waiting for me to die, already planning how to divide my assets. They all thought I'd never pull through. But I refused to give up. I gritted my teeth and made it through chemo, then surgery. And look at me now—alive and well."

She turned away, looking out at the night sky. "Felix, no matter how other people treat you, your life belongs to you. Don't give up on it so easily."

For the first time since my rebirth, I felt genuine warmth from another human being.

I cupped the warm glass in my hands. "I understand."

The next few days passed in relative peace.

After Rebecca's warning, Carson stopped picking on me openly, though he still couldn't stand the sight of me.

Whenever we passed each other, he made a point of bumping his shoulder into mine, and at meals, he'd deliberately move the dishes I disliked in front of me.

Natalie watched it all coldly from the sidelines, neither joining in nor stopping him.

None of it bothered me.

…

One afternoon, I returned home from a follow-up appointment at the hospital. The doctor had told me the tumor was spreading faster than expected. I had two months left at most.

When I reached my room, I found Carson rummaging through my backpack.

Natalie leaned against the doorframe, watching him with a deep frown. "What are you even looking for? Hurry up and get out of there. You'll get chewed out again if Mom catches you."

Carson refused to back off. "Stay out of it. I just want to see what dirty secrets he's hiding in here."

He forcefully dumped out the contents of the bag. Out tumbled several empty bottles of strong painkillers, along with a photo of my late grandfather, worn at the edges.

When Carson looked up and saw me walking in, he seemed a little flustered, a bottle still clutched in his hand.

Whatever taunt he'd prepared died in his throat.

"Why… Why are you taking so many of these?" he stammered.

I walked over, calmly took Grandpa's photo from his hand, and carefully wiped away the fingerprints with my sleeve. Then, I swept the empty bottles into a drawer.

"Are you done looking?" My voice was as soft as a breeze. "If you are, please zip my bag back up."

Natalie stared at the painkiller bottles and the photo of my late grandpa, her expression conflicted.

She straightened up and tugged on Carson's arm, her tone stiff but sincere. "I'm sorry. Carson shouldn't have gone through your things."

I looked down at Grandpa's blurry face in the picture. "You don't need to apologize. Nothing lasts anyway."

My words made Natalie's heart clench. She stared into my lifeless eyes, then dragged Carson out of the room, her face tight with mixed emotions.

The room fell quiet again.

Before long, my phone began vibrating incessantly. Mom had sent over a dozen texts.

"That worthless bastard ran the lottery ticket through the wash and shredded it!"

"It's ruined! Everything's gone!"

"You knew all along, didn't you? Why didn't you warn me before you left?"

"We're fighting so bad now we're about to get a divorce!"

"Get out here right now!"

As the messages kept popping up on the screen, I could practically see her furious face.

In my past life, I'd fought desperately to rescue that winning lottery ticket from the washing machine. And what had I gotten in return? She'd abandoned me after she struck it rich.

I typed back three cold words, "I didn't know."

Then, I blocked her number, muted my phone, and tossed it onto the bed.

My head throbbed with another sharp wave of pain, so I pulled out the fresh bottle of painkillers I'd just bought and swallowed a few.

…

That evening, I went for a walk along the tree-lined road outside the gated community. The cool, fresh air helped ease my headache a little.

I'd just reached the corner when Mom stepped out and blocked my path.