"I just got this place lively, and you go and make yourself look like that."
"You're killing my appetite—how am I supposed to sell your photos now?"
Marcus released me, his gaze colder and sharper than before.
"Serena, you really opened my eyes."
"It's just a few photos. Was all this really necessary?"
The weakness from having my life force extracted by the System washed over me, and I shook my head feebly.
"Marcus, I didn't."
"I told you before—I won't lie to you."
Marcus stiffened, remembering the promise we once made.
To earn his medical bills, I'd taken a tutoring job—but the student treated me like a pony to ride around on.
Marcus came to pick me up after my shift. He saw everything.
He burst into loud sobs, saying I'd clearly told him I was going to help someone with homework.
I coaxed him over and over, until finally I promised I would never lie to him again. Only then did he stop crying.
Little Marcus solemnly wrote in a small notebook, one entry after another, every wrong I'd suffered.
He said, "Everyone who bullies Serena—I'm going to make them regret it."
But now, Marcus only snorted.
"Still being stubborn. Since you like playing these little tricks, let's play bigger!"
He pointed at the bloodstains on my wedding dress and shouted to the guests below:
"Red fallen on white frost—doesn't it look familiar?"
"Starting now, we're auctioning off Serena's first-time photos!"
An even more heated wave surged through the crowd.
Ethan and Marcus both stopped looking at me.
The youngest, Lucas, walked toward me instead, eyes bright with interest.
"Serena, fun, right?"
Smiling, he stuffed a lollipop into my hand—strawberry milk, my favorite.
Since we were little, he was the youngest, yet the best at cheering me up.
When we slept under bridges, he would venture out and pick me a bunch of nameless wildflowers.
When vicious dogs chased us, he would throw his small body in front of mine, even if he got bitten bloody.
He said, "Serena, don't cry. With me here, you have to keep smiling."
Those days—me as a kid taking care of three even smaller kids—were brutal.
But because of him, that stretch of memories actually carried a sweetness.
Now, with the candy in my mouth, it was so sweet it made me sick, but my heart was bitter as herbs.
I spoke softly, voice muffled: "Lucas, I'm leaving."
"In the future, treat yourself a little better."
"You give all your candy away, and you'll be the one who suffers."
The smile on Lucas's face froze. Eyes bloodshot, he roared:
"Don't act like you understand me so well!"
"If it weren't for you, Charlotte would still be alive!"
I didn't speak.
Charlotte was Vanessa's best friend.
The moment I saw her, the System sounded an alarm.
[Warning: This person will cause Lucas Sullivan to fall into depravity, become disabled, and ultimately die a miserable death.]
That was the little brother who would dig a broken doll out of the trash, wash it clean, clumsily sew it back together—just to make me smile.
How could I watch him walk toward an ending like that.
I intervened.
The price was ten years of my real-world lifespan, taken by the System as punishment.
Seeing that I didn't speak, Lucas got even angrier. He raised his hand and slapped me hard across the face.
The crisp sound echoed through the noisy hall.
The candy was knocked from my mouth. Several teeth rolled onto the floor along with it.
I didn't cry.
I only lifted my head, spread my lips—ignoring the gap where my teeth had been—and smiled at him.
This was what I had promised Lucas.
No matter when, as long as he was there, I had to be happy.
One last time—I wanted to keep my word.
Lucas froze completely, as if someone had him by the throat.
