Second Life Starts at My Own Murder Scene Chapter 05

Second Life Starts at My Own Murder Scene Chapter 05

From that point on. Dad dropped his earlier relaxed attitude completely. He turned into human Velcro, glued to Mom

and me every second.

At one point. Grandpa asked him to go drink with the older relatives.

Dad said he had a headache and refused.

Then a great–uncle asked him to help move a car.

Dad immediately called over a staff member and tossed him the keys.

He and Mom were like two alarm systems that had both been switched on.

They guarded me so tightly that no one had a chance to get near me.

Curled up in Mom’s arms. I watched how careful they were and felt more secure than I had in a very long time.

In my last life, Lydia had only succeeded because my parents had never been on guard around family.

But things were different now.

There was no way Lydia was going to get what she wanted this time.

As time dragged on, though, my body started giving in to exhaustion.

I was getting sleepy.

For a one–month–old baby, sleepiness was pure instinct. There was no fighting it.

But I didn’t dare fall asleep. I forced my eyes wide open, terrified I might miss something.

Mom noticed how hard I was forcing myself to stay awake and rocked me gently, whispering, “Go to sleep, Evie. Mommy

will stay right here with you.”

I nodded, and the very next second, the endless pull of sleep shut me down completely.

I felt Mom carry me into the room.

I smelled the familiar wooden scent of the crib.

As she rocked it gently, she sang in a soft voice, “Baby girl, go to sleep…”

Everything felt natural and warm.

Until Mom got a phone call.

“What? Dad drank too much and fell? Is it bad? I’m coming right now

Mom stood and pressed a kiss to my forehead.

Then she hurried out of the suite.

That left me alone in the crib, apparently fast asleep.

Ten minutes later, I heard a beep.

It was the sound of a keycard unlocking the door.

A figure crept inside.

Her footsteps were light, as if she were walking on clouds, and she was carrying a bag.

It was a Louis Vuitton bag.

“Evie, don’t blame me.”

She stopped by the crib, swallowed, and spoke in a low voice.

Then she opened the bag and pulled out a strange cloth pouch. She loosened the string and revealed rows of silver

needles inside, each one glinting with a cold light.

She picked one out, held it in her hand, and moved toward me while holding her breath.

The instant her hand reached the crib, my eyes flew open and I let out the loudest cry of this life.

“WAAAH!”

“Stop!”

Dad, Mom, Grandpa, and the hotel manager were all standing in the doorway at the same time.

Out of all of them, Dad looked the most terrifying.

Grinding his teeth, he forced out three words.

“Turn around.”

The figure froze.

With her back still to the door, she turned into a statue of ice the instant she heard Dad’s voice.

Time seemed to lock into place.

The air held nothing but my frightened, uneven breaths and the cold, piercing gleam reflecting off the silver needle in

her hand.

Dad’s chest heaved violently. Every word sounded like it was being crushed out through clenched teeth.

Turn. Around.”

His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried the crushing pressure of a storm about to break, slamming into everyone in the

room.

The figure trembled once. Then, as if it took every ounce of strength she had, she slowly, painfully, turned around.

And when that terrified, twisted face was finally exposed under the light, Dad, Mom, and Grandpa all sucked in a sharp

breath at once.

“Lydia?!”

Dad’s eyes went wide with disbelief, bloodshot and bulging.

“How could it be you?!”

That had all begun half an hour earlier.

I had started getting sleepy, yawning in Mom’s arms as my eyelids drooped uncontrollably.

Mom stroked my face in concern. She had originally planned to let me nap for a while on the sofa in the ballroom.

But Dad stopped her.

“It’s too noisy out there. Guests are coming and going, and they’ll wake Evie.”

There was love in the way he looked at me, but now there was also a faint sharpness underneath it.

“And… I just can’t shake this feeling.” He lowered his voice and said to Mom, “From Lydia to Wanda Palmer, there’s

something off about everyone who wanted to hold Evie today. And Evie’s reacting way too strongly. This doesn’t feel like

ordinary stranger shyness.”

Mom went tense at once and hugged me tighter.

“Honey, you feel it too? I said the same thing earlier. It feels like people are watching our baby, like if we let our guard

down for even one second, something awful will happen to her.”

Dad’s brows drew into a hard knot.

“We can’t just sit here and wait. If someone really is planning something, we won’t be able to stop it in time.”

He fell silent for a moment, thinking, and then a bold plan took shape in his mind.

“Let’s set a trap.”

He pulled Mom aside and laid it out in a rush, speaking so quietly only the two of them could hear.

First, Mom would take me upstairs and lay me in the crib in the suite, pretending to rock me to sleep.

At the same time, she would secretly switch on the tiny camera they had installed so they could check on the anytime from their phones.

Then Dad would go find Grandpa and have him help put on a show.

They would say Grandpa had drunk too much and taken a fall, giving them a reasonable excuse to draw Mom away from

me.
Then the three of them would gather in the lounge next door under the pretense of taking care of Grandpa, and they would watch every single movement in the room through the phone screen.

They wanted to see exactly who had such vicious intentions that they were determined to make a move against a baby who was only one month old.

The plan went smoothly.

Mom laid me in the crib, kissed my forehead, and then got Dad’s “panicked” phone call.

She hurried out.

But the truth was, I had never actually fallen asleep.

I only kept my eyes closed and listened to every sound around me.

Sure enough, less than ten minutes after Mom left, I heard the soft beep of a keycard.

The door opened.

The footsteps were light, like a thief sneaking in.

I could feel the figure stop beside my crib, breathing fast and shallow with a kind of sick excitement barely held down.

Then I caught that familiar scent on her.

It was the same expensive perfume.

It was Lydia.

When she took out the silver needle, the cold murderous intent behind it nearly swallowed me whole.

I couldn’t hold back any longer. I used every bit of strength I had and cried out for help.

And in that exact instant, Mom, Dad, and Grandpa–who had already been waiting outside–burst through the door.

And now, looking at Lydia’s paper–white face and the fury blazing in my dad’s eyes, I knew.

I had been right to take that gamble.

I was safe.