Chapter 4

The moment the procedure ended and the doctor stepped out, Mom threw herself against my bedside.

"Vivian, I know it hurts."

Her tears fell fast and genuine.

"It's all my fault. I didn't take good care of you..."

Dad stood nearby, his face dark as thunder.

Mom suddenly turned to him, her voice trembling. "Mark... while she was half-conscious, she kept deliriously mumbling things..."

My heart tightened. What sick game was she playing now?

Mom clutched my hand tightly, her tone dripping with sheer grievance.

"She said... she said she can't stand living in this house anymore. She begged me... begged me to divorce you!"

Dad's eyes snapped toward me.

"She said you're a pathetic loser! She said she'd rather have no father at all!"

"You're lying!"

I struggled to sit up, but my throat burned like fire.

Mom pinned me down, sobbing hysterically.

"Mark! Look at her! Would I make up lies at a time like this?! She said it with her own mouth!"

Dad's chest heaved violently, his eyes bloodshot.

"You ungrateful little bastard!" He shoved Mom aside and lunged at me.

"Dad! She's lying!"

Mom wrapped her arms around Dad's waist from behind, screaming at me: "Vivian, run! Your father is going to kill you!"

It looked like she was holding him back, but she was cleverly using her weight to push him closer to me.

Completely enraged by her performance, Dad snatched a glass tumbler from the bedside table and hurled it at me.

I rolled off the bed just in time. Glass shattered everywhere.

"You think you can disrespect me?!" Dad broke free from Mom and charged like an enraged beast.

I bolted out of the room and sprinted for the stairs.

"Stop her! Don't let her do something stupid!" Mom screamed behind us, but a sinister excitement leaked through her voice.

Dad's heavy footsteps chased close behind.

Weak from having my stomach pumped, I couldn't make it far before Dad caught me by the collar.

He threw me into the car and drove us home. No matter how much I begged on the ride, he only spat one cold sentence:

"Wait until we get home. I'll deal with you then."

The front door banged open.

He slammed me onto the floor.

"I'm going to beat the defiance out of you today!"

He grabbed my hair and dragged me toward the balcony.

"You want to destroy your mother?! You die first!"

Mom rushed over, grabbing Dad's arm and wailing, "Mark! No! That's your daughter!"

Yet her body subtly blocked every route for me to crawl back into the living room.

Dad shoved me hard against the balcony.

My spine slammed into the metal railing. It gave a faint, loose groan.

Dad closed in, his knuckles popping.

"Dad! Look at Mom! Look at what she's doing!" I rasped.

Blinded by rage, Dad couldn't hear a word.

Mom crouched just behind Dad's flank. Her hands rested limply on the railing as if she were begging on her knees.

"Mark, please, don't do this to our child..."

Hidden from Dad's line of sight, her right palm was pressed flat against the base of the railing.

Silently, expertly... she was turning the already loose bolt, round and round.

Practiced. Soundless.

In my previous life, at this exact moment, that same bolt had been unscrewed the exact same way.

Why was she so desperate to kill me?

Was I doomed to die the exact same way in this life too?

No. I refused to accept that.

I glared at Mom's face, watching her Oscar-worthy performance, and a sudden realization struck me like lightning.

So that was it.

I finally understood.

The real reason she needed me dead!