Chapter 2

"Macy, you were the one who insisted on diving that day," Liam said coldly as he stood over me, his gaze as deep and icy as a frozen lake.

I froze.

I saw it in his eyes.

"You think I did it on purpose? I went down there to find seashells for Noah's school project," I said.

It was Ava who insisted on tagging along.

That day, she wasn't sweet or polite like usual. She was different. She taunted me, mocked me.

When the waves came, she grabbed me and wouldn't let go—she was the one who had caused me to be lost at sea.

She wanted me dead.

I tried to explain, my voice raw with desperation, but Liam didn't believe a word of it.

When I finished, he just said, "You can say whatever you want now. Nobody can prove otherwise."

I couldn't hold back any longer.

I swung my hand and slapped Liam hard across his handsome face.

Smack.

The sharp sound of the slap echoed through the silent hospital room.

I snapped, "If you really think I'm the murderer, go to the cops. Don't stand here pointing fingers like you're some damn victim. Get out! You and Noah make me sick."

I was weak.

After the slap, I fell back onto the hospital bed, panting for breath.

Liam froze.

Though anger still lingered on his face, when his eyes met mine, his expression grew more and more complicated.

Just as he was about to say something, an excited voice suddenly called out from outside the door. "Mr. Wilson, Miss Sands has been found!"

*****

Thanks to the system in my mind, Ava was quickly found.

Liam and Noah rushed to her side immediately.

Even though Ava didn't have a scratch on her, they still arranged a thorough check-up and made her stay in the hospital for a whole month under observation.

As for me, I slipped out of the hospital a week later, without anyone even noticing.

Liam and Noah were glued to Ava's side, leaving home early and returning late, attending to her.

And just as I had predicted, the moment the three of them appeared in public together, the narrative started to shift.

People started questioning why Liam and Noah both seemed to prefer Ava, suggesting that it was my fault.

[Okay, maybe the kid shouldn't have said that—but what drives a child to hate their own mom?]

[Is there really a kid out there who doesn't love their mom? What could make a kid stop loving their own mother?]

[I heard the surveillance footage from the beach that day was destroyed.]

People online started arguing fiercely about it.

Liam launched a PR campaign to try and squash the rumors, but it barely made a dent.

I didn't come forward, and honestly, I didn't even care.

I had more important things on my mind, like making preparations for my own departure.

I needed a believable excuse to leave this world.

The system had arranged for me to pass away from an illness.

The same way I would've left the first time when my mission was complete.

Back then, my diagnosis had barely landed in Liam's hands when he got into a car accident.

The rescuers pulled him out of the wreck, barely alive. The first thing he said when he saw me was, "I want to wait for you in heaven."

At that moment, my eyes grew red with tears.

I immediately went back on my word with the system and decided to stay in this world.

I just couldn't leave behind a man whose whole world revolved around me.

I thought we'd made it through everything together. Turned out, the joke was on me.

*****

When Liam came back home, I was busy picking out a grave for myself.

A pile of cemetery brochures was spread out on the coffee table.

He walked over, his brow furrowing.

"What's all this?" he asked, his voice tight.

"Making room for Ava," I said, not even looking up.

Even though this was just my way out of the world, the death of this body was all too real.

Now that the end was near, I just wanted to treat myself a little better.

I wanted to pick a beautiful resting place. After all, this body has been with me through it all.

The truth? It never had a good life. All it ever knew was pain.

I was assigned the task of redeeming a villain, Liam.

And like all villains, Liam had an unhappy childhood.

As soon as I transmigrated, I saw Liam getting ganged up on and bullied.

Back then, I didn't even hesitate—I rushed over to stop them.

But in the end, I just got dragged into it and bullied right along with him.

For ten years, I patched up the holes in Liam's life, took on his pain, fought for him. I helped him rise from the rock bottom and make it to the top.

Now, I was done.

"Macy," Liam snapped.

He called my name, clamped down on my wrist, and yanked me up from the couch, his voice trembling with restrained rage.

"That hurts," I muttered, pulling away.

The system just slapped me with a terminal illness, straight to the final stage.

This past month, my body was falling apart fast. If Liam had bothered to pay even a little attention, he would've noticed how no amount of makeup could hide how sick I looked.

But he didn't. He couldn't even look at me without getting annoyed.

I sighed. Not intending to hide my condition, I said, "I'm sick. I don't have much time left."