Chapter 2
Rodney carried the box and walked a long way.
He took a bus from the hospital, winding through the old part of town.
He walked to the most remote part of this city, Eastine Hollow Lane.
Finally, at the entrance of a weed-overgrown and dilapidated alley, Rodney crouched down.
Rodney stared at me, sitting inside the box, his face ghostly pale and his lips pressed together.
"Jenna," Rodney said softly, his hand visibly shaking.
"Don't blame me," he murmured.
"Gabrielle died so miserably. In my previous life, it was because of you that she died. I don't blame you, but she... She really should have lived a carefree life," he said.
He placed me in the shadows at the alley's entrance.
With his small hands, he tucked the swaddling clothes around me properly.
Rodney said, "Someone will definitely pass by here. From now on, just live as an ordinary person, okay?"
He stood up, his eyes rimmed red, but he stubbornly turned his face away. "Jenna, I'm begging you, don't show up again in this life."
Then he left without a backward glance.
As for me, my consciousness after traveling back in time was already clear.
But I couldn't say a single word.
I lay there in the shadows.
As I watched Rodney's figure disappearing into the distance, all I felt was coldness deep inside.
*****
The rain poured down heavily.
I opened my eyes again.
The sky hung dull and battered, the wind rattling the leaves at the alley's entrance like a warning.
Rodney was long gone.
I had just been born and was extremely weak.
I didn't even have the strength to cry.
All I could do was make a weak, muffled whimper in my throat.
The rain seeped into my swaddling cloth.
I started burning with fever, my vision washing out into blinding white.
Faintly, I heard the vicious sounds of wild dogs tearing into their prey.
It was like claws raking across my heart.
I couldn't move.
Helpless, all I could do was gaze up at the strange, unfamiliar sky above me.
Memories from my previous life started to resurface.
I poured my whole life into learning medicine.
I learned everything about rehabilitation and spent forty years looking after Rodney.
Yet after all that, all I ever got was, "I wish you had saved Gabrielle instead."
At this time, the very first thing Rodney did after returning was to throw me out of the Aguirre family.
I closed my eyes, the scent of damp earth and rain filling my nose.
My consciousness started to drift away piece by piece.
Just then, a gentle female voice pierced through the haze.
"Do you hear something? A kitten?" she said.
Another, deeper voice followed, laced with a hint of playful teasing.
"Then let's take it home. You love kittens the most, don't you?" he said.
Light started to break through the darkness, faint but unmistakable.
Maybe it was the rainy glow from a streetlamp or the blurry shine of headlights far off.
In the haze of my fading mind, it was the very first spark of hope I could hold onto.
I saw an umbrella.
It unfurled against the wind and rain, and beneath it was the delicate, elegant face of a beauty.
Her rain-soaked hair clung softly to her cheeks.
The instant she laid eyes on me, her expression grew gentle, though I could see a trace of anxious worry flicker in her gaze.
"Vernon, quick—get the car. To the hospital! It's a baby!" she said.
Her voice shook, the words coming rapid-fire.
She was visibly shaken.
The very next second, she scooped me up from the box with gentle, careful arms.
My swaddling was drenched, so she slipped off her coat and bundled me inside, shielding me from the cold.
She held me tightly in her arms.
There was a comforting, wonderful scent coming from her.
It was like rose mixed with the smell of herbs—so warm I nearly wept from relief.
I nestled into her arms.
I let out soft, breathy whimpers, my warm breath fogging against her.
My awareness flickered.
She hugged me tightly, cursing softly under her breath. "Damn it, to think we'd run into something like this on a business trip.
"She's burning up, her lips are turning blue," the man's voice came from the side, slightly hoarse. "I'll get the car. We can't delay this."
She whispered gently, "It's okay, sweetheart. We're here, and we'll get you to a doctor—don't worry."
That fever that scorched me all through the night finally faded by dawn.
I lay on a stark white hospital bed.
When I slowly opened my eyes,
Elodie was dozing with her head resting beside the bed.
Her fingertips lingered on my hand.
I wiggled my fingers, and she snapped awake instantly.
She was taken aback for a moment, then her eyes started to fill with tears.
"You're awake? Oh, sweetheart, you're a real fighter," she said.
And then, the doctor said my temperature was stable and all my vitals looked good.
They stood over by the window, speaking in low voices.
"Let's take her with us," Elodie said.
There was no trace of hesitation in Elodie—her resolve was unmistakable.