Chapter 2

I froze.

Was I hallucinating? Had the shock finally broken something inside me?

I pressed my palms against the floor to push myself up, but the glass shards buried in my skin drove deeper. The pain ripped through me, and I gasped.

Meanwhile, Julian, Lyla, and Charles kept fussing over Emily, asking if she was okay and checking her for injuries.

I might as well have been invisible. Worse than invisible. I was just something in the way.

Julian finally looked at me, and his voice dripped with contempt. "Olivia, what are you still doing here? Get back to your room and stop embarrassing yourself."

I kept my head down and pulled myself off the floor. My legs barely held me as I limped toward the stairs.

Blood dripped from my fingertips onto the expensive carpet, leaving a trail of dark spots behind me. Each drop bloomed into a small, accusing stain.

No one called after me. No one asked if I was hurt.

I made it back to what they called "my room."

Calling it a room was generous. The space was cramped and dark, and the only window faced a brick wall.

Meanwhile, Emily had the biggest bedroom in the entire house, sunlight streaming through massive windows into what looked like a princess suite.

I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the gash on my palm. Blood kept trickling down my wrist.

I didn't bother cleaning it.

My heart hurt worse than my hand ever could.

World Escape System. A fresh start. Could any of this actually be real?

I asked carefully, "Who are you?"

That cold voice responded immediately. "I collect souls whose stories abandoned them.

"People drowning in despair with nowhere left to go. If you agree, I'll extract your soul the second you die and place you in a brand new world where you can live the life you deserved all along."

I latched onto those words. "The second I die?"

The System continued, "Yes. Leaving this world requires death. At least, the death of who you are now. And to truly sever all emotional ties, your death can't be quiet. It needs to make an impact. It has to force everyone who wronged you to face what they did."

Something twisted hard in my chest.

Death.

I'd thought about that word before. Too many times to count.

In the year since the Foster family took me back, I'd spent countless nights lying awake with the same question running through my head. Would they stop hating me if I just died?

Would this family return to being "perfect" again if I disappeared?

Someone knocked on my door. I thought it was a maid bringing medicine, so I called out in a hoarse voice, "Come in."

The door opened, and Charles walked in.

He wore a perfectly tailored suit, but his handsome face was ice-cold.

He didn't ask about my injuries. Instead, he tossed a bank card onto the table in front of me.

Charles said coldly, "There's 30 thousand dollars in there. Take it and move out tomorrow."

I jerked my head up and stared at him in disbelief. I whispered, "What did you just say?"

Charles' tone stayed flat and cold. "I said move out. Emily had a heart attack because of you, and the doctor says she needs complete rest. No more stress." He paused, then delivered the ultimatum without emotion. "It's either you or her in this house."

A heart attack? She'd only gotten a small cut from that frame.

My lips trembled. "But this is my home too."

Charles let out a sharp laugh, like I'd told the world's funniest joke. "Your home? Olivia, don't forget where you came from.

"You grew up in some backwater town, and you've never been one of us. Emily's different. She grew up with the Fosters from day one, so she's the only daughter Mom and Dad care about. She's my only sister."

"Then what am I?" I stared at him with burning eyes. "I'm your actual sister!"

His gaze turned even colder. "My actual sister? You mean the one who's jealous of Emily? The one who schemed to hurt her?" He shook his head slowly. "You make me sick, Olivia."

Sick?

My own brother just called me sick.

The blood in my veins turned to ice, one inch at a time.

I looked at him, and suddenly I didn't want to fight anymore.

There was no point. He wouldn't believe a word I said, no matter what I told him.

I dropped my gaze to the bank card in my hand.

Thirty thousand dollars.

The price tag on my right to come home.

Apparently, that was all I was worth.

"Fine." I heard my voice come out calm and steady. "I'll move out."

Charles hadn't expected me to give in so quickly. He paused, and satisfaction spread across his face.

He smirked, "Smart girl."

He turned to leave.

"Wait." I stopped him.

He looked back, his brow furrowed with impatience. "What now?"

I pointed at the card on the table. "I don't want this."

I stood up and walked over to him. I looked him straight in the eye and said, "I didn't come to the Foster family for money. And I'm not leaving because of your money either."

I turned around and shut the door behind me.

The barrier between us felt final now.

The room fell silent again, but this time the silence pressed down on me.

I collapsed onto the floor, and the tears I'd been holding back finally broke free.

"System, is this real? Can I actually start over?" I asked.

"Absolutely," System replied. "The countdown has already begun. Once you complete the ritual, you'll get your second chance."

"Countdown?"

"Yes. There are seven days left until the Foster family's thirtieth anniversary gala and Emily's official adoption ceremony. That will be your final stage."

My phone suddenly lit up on the floor beside me.

A text message from my fiancé, Adam Reed, appeared on the screen.

[Olivia, I'm sorry. Let's call off the engagement.]