Before my hand could even graze her, my younger sister, Grace, bolted out of the house.
"Dad! Mom! She was wearing this dress when she pushed me into the road! She tried to get me killed by a car!"
"I don't want to see her! Make her leave! Get her out of here!"
Mom's expression frosted over. She turned on me, voice dripping with venom. "Michelle Fox, apologize to your sister. Now."
Dad didn't wait for me to speak. He shoved me toward Grace.
Grace shrieked, recoiling as if I were a monster. "I don't want her apology!"
Her voice was shrill, piercing my skull like an ice pick. The frustration and injustice I had bottled up for years finally exploded.
I couldn't hold it down anymore.
"Grace Fox, I never touched you! Who taught you to lie like this?"
My control snapped. My hand rose.
But Mom was faster.
*Smack!*
Her palm landed heavy and hard across my face. The force knocked my head sideways. A high-pitched whine filled my ears, and the copper tang of blood flooded my mouth.
Mom's eyes bored into mine. Profound disappointment. Cold disgust.
"You dare hit your sister right in front of us? I can only imagine how you bully her behind our backs."
"Get out." She spat the words like poison. "I don't have a daughter like you."
Dad gathered Grace into his arms, shielding her. "Michelle, if you can't be a good sister, then don't bother coming back."
I swallowed the bloody foam pooling in my mouth.
Bitter.
"Fine."
I turned on my heel and walked away. My movements were calm. Mechanical.
That slap had finally knocked some sense into me.
The truth was, I had lost my parents a long time ago.
The farewell was a disaster—a messy end to a messy life—but I still had to pull myself together. I had to figure out how to survive these last few days.
I was a walking tragedy. About to die, yet still desperate for a quiet, clean place to take my final breath.
I reached out to Eliana Norton. She told me to come to her place. Her husband and daughter had both passed away in that house, she said, so adding one more dying soul wouldn't make a difference.
I moved in. While the online buzz about the "rich girl and the sanitation worker" was still hot, I started filming videos with her. It was my way of repaying her kindness. And also a way to earn enough for food during my final countdown.
When the timer on my arm showed only thirty hours left, Dad and Mom started calling me like crazy.
I didn't answer.
So they bombarded me with texts.
*You don't dare answer the phone? Think your wings have hardened, do you?*
*Grace had a nightmare and has a fever from the shock. It's critical. Hurry back and use Resurrection on her.*
*You have time to film those trashy videos, but no time to save your own biological sister?*
*I think you haven't learned your lesson yet!*
I calmly put my phone away.
Whether Grace was faking it or actually dying, it didn't matter.
I wasn't going back.
I had no Resurrection charges left.
I just hadn't expected my parents—people who cared so much about their reputation—to stoop so low. To force me back to heal Grace, they started a livestream.
Facing the camera, they wept, accusing me of having no conscience, of harboring a vicious, jealous heart.
They claimed that to compete for their favor, I had engineered accident after accident, trying to kill my own sister. Now that Grace was traumatized from a "car accident" and burning up with a fever, I wouldn't even visit. Instead, I was out filming videos with strangers, using the scandal to line my pockets.
Mom even flashed a bank statement showing my earnings. "Look closely! Michelle Fox doesn't lack money at all!"
"That sanitation worker buying her porridge? It's all a show! It's acting!"
The livestream turned me into public enemy number one.
The videos Eliana and I had filmed were mass-reported and taken down. Eliana was even warned by her supervisor: stop filming, or get fired.
By then, the countdown on my arm had reached single digits.
One hour.
That was all I had left.
"It's my fault," I said softly.
I took a deep breath, looking at the chaos I'd caused. "Auntie Eliana doesn't know anything. I lied to her."
Whether it was the internet mob or her boss, I took all the blame.
After clearing Eliana's name, I took a taxi to the hospital.
I pushed open the door to the ward.
Mom and Dad weren't there. Grace was leaning against the headboard, scrolling through her phone. Her complexion was rosy, her eyes bright.
She didn't look sick at all.
When I entered, she didn't even look up. Her gaze passed right through me, as if I were air.
I wasn't surprised. Whenever our parents weren't watching, the "sweet little sister" act vanished. She never called me sister. Never acknowledged my existence unless she had to.
"Grace, why did you frame me?"
Silence. Her thumbs kept tapping the screen.
"At this point, do you still not dare to speak a single word of truth?"
Grace finally looked up.
A teenage girl should be innocent. Bright. But her eyes held a gloom and a cold indifference that made my blood run cold.
"Mom and Dad only need one child." Her voice was flat. Empty. "That child is me."
"They don't need two daughters. And I don't need a sister."
"Their love belongs to me alone. The three of us are very happy without you."
A cruel smile tugged at her lips. "Now, they've finally given up on you completely. Do you know where they went? They went home to pack. Today, they're taking me abroad for a vacation."
She threw the words at me with malice, waiting for me to explode. To scream. To cry.
But she was disappointed.
Receiving this answer right before my death brought a strange sense of closure.
I nodded lightly. "So that's what you think."
I turned around and walked out.
As I stepped out of the hospital, the System's voice echoed in my mind.
*"Michelle Fox. Among the 574 hosts I have bound, you are the only one who used the tenth and final Resurrection chance. As per the contract, your soul will be devoured by the System."*
*"However, as a commemoration, I will grant you a parting gift."*
The moment the System finished speaking, the countdown on my arm hit zero.
