I died.

In a damp, dark alley.

My soul gradually floated away from my mangled body, curiously gazing at myself lying there, motionless.

The pain and fear from earlier seemed to linger in the body.

I floated closer, curious, and glanced at the phone with a cracked screen.

A barrage of insults filled the screen. I habitually scrolled down, and my eyes stopped at the name Jessica Jenning.

[You’re probably in that dark alley, helpless, right? Hahaha, serves you right.]

[I didn’t want anyone to bother you at first, but why did Wally even mention you? You must’ve used some cheap tricks to seduce him! Stay in that alley where you belong, you bitch!]

[...]

Her words, just like her, made me feel deeply uncomfortable.

But now, I no longer felt those emotions.

The phone’s battery was down to 5%, about to die, yet the calls kept coming.

Just as I wanted to take one last look at my corpse, a strange force pulled me to another place.

A home I knew well.

Or rather, I should say, Jessica’s home.

"Samantha Jenning, where on earth are you? Why is your phone unreachable?"

A tall man frowned, the cold expression on his face showing a rare glimpse of worry because of me.

This was my brother, Nigel Jenning.

He had always doted on Jessica, so seeing him worry about me now was unexpected.

As if on cue, the familiar voice of complaint followed.

"She’s probably throwing a tantrum because Jes is marrying Wally." The well-dressed lady sat in a comfortable chair, her face filled with disdain. "We raised her for so long, and yet she turned out to be such an ungrateful wretch! It breaks my heart."

That was my mother.

I remembered she wasn’t always like this. I don’t know when it started, but the way she looked at me became filled with disdain.

Nigel’s eyes reflected the same annoyance. "She’s likely ignoring our calls on purpose, refusing to bless Jes’s wedding. So young and already so vicious—I wonder where she learned it."

At that moment, it felt like my heart had been struck hard.

"Enough." The usually silent man finally spoke, though his words lacked any concern for me. "If she wants to throw a tantrum, let her. Have someone drag her back here if need be!"

My father, too, was completely focused on the daughter he had raised for over a decade, never once considering my feelings.