Second Life Starts at My Own Murder Scene Chapter 01

Second Life Starts at My Own Murder Scene Chapter 01

March 22, 8:42 a.m., in the ballroom of a five-star hotel.

Today was my one-month celebration.

In just a little while, my aunt, Lydia Bennett, was going to use checking on me as an excuse to drive a four-inch silver needle into my fontanelle.

In my last life, she succeeded.

I turned into an idiot on the spot and spent the next eighteen years mentally impaired. In the end, I was trafficked into a remote mountain community and sold off as the simple-minded bride of an aging bachelor.

But this life was different.

I had spent eighty years in the underworld begging the Judge of the Dead for another chance. I pestered his grim reapers so badly they probably wanted to reincarnate just to get away from me, but I finally earned a do-over.

Looking at my mom and dad’s familiar smiling faces, I made a silent vow.

This time, I would never let her succeed.

***

At my one-month celebration in my last life, my parents had gone all out. There were forty or fifty relatives there just from our side of the family.

In their minds, the more people showed up, the more blessings would be passed on to me.

What they never imagined was this.

Ten minutes before the celebration officially began, Lydia would step out of a Bentley, dripping in jewelry, and walk into the ballroom.

She would hand over a fat cash envelope and, under the pretense of wanting to bond with her niece, take me from my mother’s arms.

My mom loved it when people praised me, so she never suspected a thing.

Then Lydia would carry me into the lounge next door and pull out the silver needle she had prepared in advance.

It would only take a few seconds.

I would go from a bright-eyed, healthy baby to a vacant-eyed, mentally impaired child.

That was how Lydia destroyed my entire life.

And now, I was back.

I was only a month old, and I still couldn’t even babble out “Mom” and “Dad” properly. But that didn’t matter. After eighty years in the underworld, I understood all too well how much a child meant to their parents.

Even the tiniest flicker of suspicion would put them on guard.

Lydia, I was ready for you.

I rubbed at my eyes and burrowed deeper into Mom’s arms, making myself look as clingy and dependent as possible.

Dad was dying to hold me, so he reached over and said, “Honey, let me hold Evie for a while.”

No.

I snapped fully awake.

In my last life, Dad had never been on guard around Lydia because she was his own sister.

Even after they later discovered the wound on my head, he had never once suspected her.

Count on my dad?

Absolutely not.

“Waaah!”

I let out a piercing scream.

This wasn’t ordinary crying. It was the kind of full-body, heart-ripping wail that sounded like my soul was being torn apart.

Dad flinched and pulled his hand back at once.

“What’s wrong? Evie doesn’t want me to hold her?”

Mom shot him a glare and rocked me with aching tenderness. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. Evie’s not upset. Mommy’s got you. We don’t need Daddy right now.”

I sniffled and gradually quieted down.

Grandpa saw the whole thing and laughed. “So our Evie doesn’t want Daddy? Come here. Grandpa will hold you.”

He reached out.

Before he could even touch me, another burst of violent crying exploded out of me.

Grandpa wouldn’t work either.

He had loved me in my last life, yes, but he hadn’t suspected Lydia for even a second either.

If anything, there had been plenty of times when he had wanted me to get closer to her.

The thought made me cry even harder, so hard I nearly blacked out.

Grandpa froze in shock, his old face flushing bright red.

Half laughing and half helpless, Mom finally understood. “Evie only wants me today. I think she didn’t sleep well last night, so she’s cranky. Dad, you can hold her later.”

Dad and Grandpa exchanged a look and sighed at the same time.

Reluctantly, they agreed.

Time ticked by, and the one-month celebration was about to begin.

The guests arrived one after another.

I counted down in my head.

“Three, two, one…”

“I came to see Evie!”

The ballroom doors were pushed open.

Lydia swept in on four-inch heels, carrying an exotic-leather Louis Vuitton bag and glittering from head to toe.

“Oh, our Evie is just adorable.”

She strode over, pulled a thick cash envelope from her handbag, and stuffed it into Mom’s hand.

Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, she said, “Megan, let me hold her for a minute.”