Just when I was about to catch my breath, a notification from the couple app linked to Bernard suddenly popped up:
"Your lover is getting closer... 1.8 kilometers... 1.2 kilometers... 500 meters..."
My heart skipped a beat.
As the distance shrank rapidly, panic surged through me.
Then, I noticed him.
At the end of the corridor, a tall, burly man in a black baseball cap was peering into each room, one by one.
That face—I would never forget it. Not even in my nightmares.
The serial killer.
What was he doing here?
My body froze, but only for a second. Instinct kicked in.
As he neared, I grabbed a face mask from a nearby tray, slapped it on, hunched my back, and slipped into the women's bathroom.
I dared him to follow me in there.
But a more chilling question rose: How did they find me? Had someone planted a tracker on my phone?
Thinking fast, I called over a staff member and lied, saying my phone had fallen into water. I asked them to take it for repair—and borrowed a spare.
I logged into the couple app again.
But the dot that was Bernard wasn’t retreating with my phone—it was getting closer.
Much closer.
My skin prickled. The distance was shrinking fast.
Ninety-nine meters. Eighty.
He wasn’t tracking my phone. He was tracking me.
Was there... something inside me?
I couldn't stay here.
Wearing only the bath center's robe, I scrambled to get dressed and slipped out the back.
I hailed a taxi and headed to the busiest shopping mall I could think of. Maybe I could lose them in the crowd.
But Bernard’s location followed. And the man in the baseball cap was there too—still hunting.
I ran from floor to floor. Food court. Arcade. Restroom hallway. No use.
Then I felt it—a sharp, throbbing pain in the side of my jaw.
My newly filled tooth.
My stomach sank. Of course.
A hidden tracker... inside my dental filling?
I glanced down at my coat. That wasn’t mine either. Was this all arranged?
My mind clicked into place.
Without wasting a second, I made a call using the spare phone, then told the driver to take me back—to the convenience store.
As soon as I crossed the street and entered the hotel lobby, my phone buzzed.
A voice call from the couple app.
Bernard’s voice cooed, “Baby, what took you so long? I couldn’t reach you. I almost fell asleep waiting.”
I let out a dry laugh.
He had chased me across half the city with a murderer at his side, and now he was playing the worried boyfriend?
I knew what awaited me inside that abandoned hotel.
And I still walked in.
Step by step, I approached the luxury suite.
While strolling down the corridor, I messaged him:
“The convenience store didn’t have the oden I like. I went to the mall. I also grabbed some food for you and Samantha.”
Just as I reached the suite door, I spotted something cold glinting in the distance.
The blade.
The same one that slit my throat in my past life.
But this time, I was no longer the same Cherie.
From inside, I heard Samantha’s voice—sharp, giddy with triumph.
“That bitch Cherie is finally going to die. All these years of pretending will finally pay off. I’m better than her—always have been. Why did I have to play second to her in everything?”
She laughed darkly.
“I should thank my dear brother. If I hadn’t tricked him into coming, I wouldn’t have such an easy, bloodless way to get rid of her.”
“Darling, didn’t you say she had high-value accident insurance? Once that bitch dies, we can cash in and honeymoon in the Maldives!”
My blood ran cold.
All this time after my rebirth, I thought the murderer was somehow connected to Bernard. I never imagined… he was actually Samantha’s brother.
Suddenly, it all made sense. That sense of familiarity—I hadn’t seen him on the news, but in a family photo Samantha posted to her Moments five years ago. I even remembered her crying to me back then, claiming her brother tried to marry her off to an old cripple in their village for a bride price.
And now, here he was. A glint of cold steel slashed through the air toward my throat.
"Little bitch, you’re surprisingly slippery,” Evan growled, fruit knife flashing as he lunged. My heart seized, but I forced myself to speak, my voice low and desperate.
“Evan, look closely! Do you even know who I am?”
