The Perfect Spiral

My boss has started dating, and his girlfriend is already acting hostile toward me at the first meeting. She looks me up and down and says passive-aggressively, "You're Theodore's secretary, the one he's been taking special care of?" I'm left speechless for a moment, staring at her in disbelief. I am Theodore Grant's secretary—that part is true. When I graduated, my dad deliberately arranged for me to work under Theodore to learn company management. For over a year, I have been working overtime late into the night every day, handling stacks of documents that never seem to end. Everyone says that I'm the hardest-working workhorse in the company. So, why have I gone from being a workhorse to some kind of side piece the moment my boss gets a girlfriend?

Campus food deliveries vanished so often that no one even commented anymore. Then it happened to me again and again. I never identified the thief, but by New Year's Eve I was finished with being an easy mark. I set out a bowl of soup as bait and soaked it with water wrung from an old bathroom mop. I meant to make whoever stole it regret touching my food. A week later, the police did not come for the thief. They came for me. The counselor slid a penalty notice across his desk—600 dollars for food costs and medical fees, due next week. The person who ate my food had been hospitalized for "poisoning." The school was already discussing a major demerit, the cancellation of my first-class scholarship, and the loss of my needs-based stipend. That stipend was the money keeping my sick mother alive. They planned to pin everything on me, shield the real culprit, and bury me under paperwork. Unfortunately for them, they chose the wrong target. I was the law department's resident argument addict, and I intended to turn their dirty little mediation into a public collapse.

Before the SATs, everyone had filled in their dream colleges they'd like to apply to. Now that the results were out, my boyfriend, Sheldon Miller, and many of my classmates had successfully gotten into Astraeus University, which happens to be their dream university. In order to celebrate the success, Sheldon's childhood friend, Winnie Frost, decided to invite Sheldon and the classmates over to the tattoo parlor her family ran for celebratory tattoos. I grabbed Sheldon's hand and reminded him that students in aviation majors weren't allowed to have tattoos of their own, only to get slapped by him instead. The classmates around me even started mocking me relentlessly. "Just how shameless are you, Cassandra? Sheldon and Winnie are the actual childhood friends here! You don't want him to get a tattoo at her family's parlor out of jealousy, right?" I was so pissed that I could feel a headache coming. For the sake of Sheldon's future, I forcibly dragged him away. But what I didn't expect was that Winnie would secretly carry two barrels of gas to my residence. Just like that, she set my residence ablaze. That fire ended up killing my parents and me. Sheldon and our classmates even forged Winnie's alibi just so they could wash her off the police's suspicion. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Sheldon is about to walk into Winnie's tattoo parlor. Sheldon shakes my hand off ruthlessly and begins berating me angrily. "Aren't you just being jealous because Winnie and I are close to each other? I'll have you know that not only do I want to get a tattoo with Winnie, but I also want to have her name tattooed on my body!" This time, I just flash a wide smile at him. "Go on, then. You'd better have her name tattooed on an obvious spot."

When I saw my best friend tending to the elderly man upstairs with such diligence in washing his clothes, cooking his meals, feeding him medicine, and giving him massages, I immediately knew that she had been reborn, too. In my previous life, my best friend and I shared an apartment. We were often awakened in the middle of the night by the old man’s cough from upstairs. When I went up to check on him, I learned that his legs were paralyzed, and he had no children or family. Out of sympathy, I decided to care for him. I brought him his daily meals and gave him massages. A month later, out of the blue, the old man mysteriously handed me a bank card and said, “There’s eight million here. It’s my reward to you.” With that money, I immediately went and paid off my father’s medical bills. Later, the old man went even further and transferred the ownership of the apartment that we were renting to me. He told me, “When your father is discharged, move in together. That way, I’ll have someone to keep me company, too!” When my best friend learned of this, however, she went ballistic. During the few days I was having trouble sleeping, she had secretly spiked my water with a lethal dose of sleeping pills. She watched as I died in agony. After my death, my boyfriend, posing as my fiancé, cut off my father’s medical bills and took away the old man’s bank card. Meanwhile, my best friend spread slanderous rumors among the neighbors, claiming the old man gave me money because I had sold myself to him. Half a year later, the two got married and paid in full for a luxury apartment in the city centre. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on that very day when the old man upstairs was coughing uncontrollably.

My name is Greta Ellsworth. In my past life, my best friend, Poppy McKellen, and I both married into the Lockwood family. They are a prestigious household with a long-standing legacy in alternative medicine. Poppy marries the eldest son, Bruce Lockwood, while I marry the younger son, Owen Lockwood. Poppy gives birth to three children with Bruce. They each grow up to be prodigies in medicine. Meanwhile, I have only one daughter with Owen—Wendy Lockwood. Sadly, Wendy struggles with even the most basic math and isn't very bright. Owen's pride takes over, and he is left feeling utterly embarrassed. Years later, I take Wendy to a medical symposium. When she shyly whispers, "Dad," the crowd erupts in laughter. Enraged and humiliated, Owen stabs Wendy to death. Before I can react, he turns my way and strikes me down as well. When I open my eyes again, I realize that both Owen and I have been reborn. I take in the scene of our families' matchmaking event once more. This time, Owen reaches for Poppy's hand and says, "I like you. Will you marry me?"

On Frankie Sutton's birthday banquet in the tenth year of us being together, all of our family, friends, and relatives were confident that I'd propose to him again. After all, I gave up on my family's assets that are worth tens of millions of dollars back in Glufford just so I can travel all the way to Arkvine with Frankie in order to start a pig-rearing business. I've been clinging to him for ten long years so that I can marry him. But even when the clock hits 5:00 am, I'm still nowhere to be seen in my wedding gown. All Frankie receives is a text from me, stating that I'm breaking up with him. In ten years, I've reared countless batches of piglets and watched them grow into full-fledged pigs. Alas, I can never warm Frankie's heart up with my love. Now, I choose to abandon him and the piglets I'm forced to rear.

At the entrance of the airport, as I watch my best friend, Jenna Bryant, taking the initiative to accept a passerby's request to help bring a USB drive back to the country, I know that she's gotten reborn as well. In my previous life, the passerby had sought us out and requested us to bring the USB drive with us to the country we were flying to. "Once you get off the plane, someone will meet up with you. Don't worry, we'll make sure to reward you for your help. "When we're sure that the USB drive has made it to the safe hands without a hitch, I'll give you a monetary reward." The passerby looked very anxious, not to mention there was money being promised as a reward. It was only natural for Jenna to feel very tempted to accept the request. But I quickly shook my head and turned him down. Then, I whisked Jenna through the security customs and made sure to explain the danger of such requests to her. What I didn't know was that the USB drive belonged to the richest man in the city, and that the one who helped deliver the USB drive would receive tens of millions of dollars as a reward. After finding out about the news, Jenna was enraged. She rushed to my house and stabbed me immediately with a blade. "If it wasn't for you, I'd be the one receiving that reward!" I could only look at my husband, Ricky Manning, in hopes that he'd save me. But he merely replied mockingly, "You lost our ten-million-dollar reward, Valerie! Death is just an easy way out for you!" After I died, Jenna moved into my house and lived a romantic life with Ricky. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day that passerby has stopped me and Jenna. I just chuckle as I look at how greedy Jenna is. What she doesn't know is that this is actually a deadly USB drive.

My best friend asked me to conduct a blood test on her before she got married to the richest man in the city. That was how I found out that she had AIDS. Due to patient confidentiality and her claim that her fiance would not mind, I did not tell him about her diagnosis. Later on, he contracted AIDS as well. When this happened, my best friend went online and pointed the finger at me. “Maya Sullivan intentionally kept the results of my blood test a secret. That’s why my husband got AIDS. It’s all her fault!” Even my boyfriend added fuel to the fire. “This isn’t the first time Maya has set Pearl up. She only got AIDS because Maya used an infected needle to take her blood sample!” No matter how much I insisted otherwise, everyone kept hounding me about it. To avoid the fallout, I was forced to move myself and my parents to another city to start fresh. However, in a fit of rage, Pearl’s husband crashed into our car and killed all of us. He was later sentenced to death, so Pearl inherited all of his assets. She then lived in luxury with my boyfriend. When I opened my eyes again, I discovered that I had gone back in time. It was the day that Pearl had undergone her health checkup.

The day my mom was beaten up for being a mistress, I slammed the family crest into my dad’s face. I had been studying abroad, and on my return flight, I came across a video. The title read, [Richest Family’s Heirs Defend Their Mom and Beat Up Mistress.] In the video, my mother was wearing coarse linen clothes while my brothers surrounded her. They were punching and kicking her. They even tore her clothes and cussed her out as a shameless mistress. Her eyes were teary as she desperately tried to explain. However, she was only met with mocking laughter. A stranger in haute couture stood shielded behind them, and she sweetly said, “Alright, I know you’re doing this for me, but we don’t need to waste our time on ungrateful people.” The surrounding guests showered her with birthday wishes and praised her for her graciousness. “This is the grace befitting Mrs. Roth! Do some people really not own a mirror at home?” “A mistress dares to call herself Mrs. Roth? Doesn’t she know the entire Roth family was built on her assets? Which part of her looks like a lady?” Hearing them call her “Mrs. Roth,” I clenched my phone, and the screen reflected my icy expression. I had only been away from home for three years. How did I not know that I had acquired such a despicable “mother”?

After my crimes, I surrendered myself to the police. My fiance rushed over and questioned me, “You didn’t steal anything, so why’re you admitting it?!” I spread my hands. I decided to spend the rest of my life in prison. In my previous life, my fiance’s childhood sweetheart, Selene, had caused trouble everywhere after she returned to her home country. First, she stole things from a mall. Then, she dined and dashed. Finally, she ran a red light and killed someone. The mall manager, the restaurant owner, and the victim’s family all cornered me. I was puzzled. Why did they come after me for the things Selene did? Later, they accused me in front of the police of stealing, dining and dashing, and committing a hit-and-run. Apparently, they had mistaken me for Selene. But Selene and I looked nothing alike. I requested the surveillance footage as proof of their claims. The footage somehow showed that I was the one who had stolen things, dined and dashed, and committed a hit-and-run. My denial was useless without evidence. The footage, on the other hand, was foolproof. The victim’s family stabbed me to death out of rage. Even as I died, I could not understand why all the crimes Selene committed ended up becoming mine. When I opened my eyes again, I returned to the very day Selene stole things from the mall.