Chapter 3
My composure seemed to infuriate her even more. "What kind of attitude is that! Do you still not realize what you've done?"
Jason walked over and shielded a crying Claire behind him. He looked at me like I was trash. "Hazel, apologize to Claire right now!"
I looked at him, then at Claire. She was hunching her shoulders behind him, but a triumphant gleam flashed in her eyes.
Apologize? For what?
I suddenly felt ridiculous. What had I even been expecting these past two years?
Did I really think they would look past my blue-collar upbringing and see a girl who just wanted a real family?
It was a complete joke. They didn't care at all.
I took a deep breath and spoke clearly, enunciating every single word. "I didn't push her."
"You're still lying!" Jason was furious. He stepped forward like he was about to hit me too.
"Enough!" My dad's deep, angry shout cut through the room.
He walked over, his face livid. He scanned the mess on the floor before his cold, disappointed gaze landed on me.
His eyes carried a deep trace of absolute disgust. "Take her upstairs. Stop embarrassing us in front of the guests!"
He waved his hand dismissively, like swatting a fly.
Two security guards immediately stepped forward and grabbed me by both arms.
I didn't fight back.
As they dragged me toward the stairs, I glanced back.
Mom was crouching down, tenderly wiping frosting off Claire's dress. Dad was rubbing Claire's back and whispering comforting words.
Meanwhile, Jason directed the catering staff to clean up the mess. He announced that the party would continue.
It was as if I were nothing but a trivial disruption, completely incapable of making a ripple in their perfect lives.
So, I was not even worth staying mad at.
In my mind, that mechanical voice chimed in again.
[Host emotional breakdown threshold detected at 95%.]
[World Detachment System secondary confirmation: Host, do you truly wish to leave this reality that brings you so much pain?]
They locked me in a storage room on the third floor. It was dark, damp, and crammed with broken furniture.
The door clicked locked from the outside.
I slid down against the freezing wall and hugged my knees to my chest.
My face still burned, but the pain in my heart had gone completely numb a long time ago.
Leave?
Where would I even go?
If I left here, I'd be all alone again.
The voice seemed to read my thoughts.
[The system will match you with a brand new world. There, you will have a family who truly loves you and live a fulfilling life.
[The price is that you must completely sever all ties with this current world, including your life.
[You trade your death in this world for a fresh start in another.]
I froze. Trade death for a fresh start?
Was this real?
[Yes, Host. This is not a hallucination. This is a choice.]
I curled up in the pitch black, my body trembling slightly from the cold and fear.
Death. I was terrified of dying. But living here felt like a slow, agonizing torture.
Faintly, from downstairs, I could hear the crowd cheering and singing Happy Birthday.
They were cutting a new cake.
Claire's party had returned to normal after a brief interruption.
Nobody remembered that I was still locked upstairs in a storage closet.
My heart sank, inch by inch.
It plummeted to the darkest depths of the ocean until I couldn't feel a single trace of light.
"Okay," I told the voice in my head. "I accept."
[System has confirmed Host's consent.
[Life countdown initiated: Sixty minutes.
[Upon completion of the countdown, the system will execute soul extraction. Please choose an appropriate method of detachment.
[Suggested detachment method: Public, high impact, and irreversible. This ensures the maximum severance of causal ties to the current world.]
Leaning against the wall, listening to the voice in my head, I actually felt a bizarre sense of peace.
It turned out that even death had to be a carefully choreographed performance.
Public, high impact, irreversible.
I looked up at the tiny window in the room.
Outside was the family estate's backyard.
Jumping from here would probably just break my legs. It wouldn't kill me, and it wouldn't be irreversible.
I closed my eyes, my mind racing.
Fifty-nine minutes left. Where could I go? What should I do?
The laughter and cheering from downstairs stabbed into my ears like poison.
I couldn't just die silently in this dingy closet.
I wanted them to see. I wanted them to remember.
Remember today. Remember exactly how they pushed me to a dead end, step by step.
My gaze landed on the door's lock. It was an old model.
I stood up and dug through the junk piles until I found a discarded piece of thin wire.
Back in my old foster town, I had learned a few lockpicking tricks from an old handyman.
I only did it for fun back then. I never expected it to become the key to my own death today.
How ironic.
I slid the wire into the keyhole and held my breath.
A soft click echoed in the quiet. The lock popped open.
I gently pulled the door ajar. The hallway outside was completely empty.
Everyone was still down in the banquet hall.
I kicked off those tight high heels and walked barefoot, padding silently up the stairs like a ghost.
The fourth floor was an attic space.
Outside the attic, there was an open-air balcony.
It was the highest point of the entire mansion.
I pushed open the balcony door. The night breeze hit me, carrying a chill that tangled my hair.
I walked to the edge and gripped the freezing railing, looking down.
The banquet hall was brightly lit. Through the massive glass windows, I could see all those glamorous silhouettes.
They were laughing, joking around, and celebrating.
Celebrating the girl who had stolen my entire life, marking another year she had been alive.
Meanwhile, I, the rightful heiress, was left standing up here in this freezing corner like a phantom terrified of the light.
I took a deep breath and pulled a tiny wooden rabbit out of my pocket.
It was the very last thing I owned.
I set it on the railing and used the heel of my shoe to violently carve a few words into the wood: Happy Birthday