The Second Life That Saved Me But My Parent Were ArrestedChapter 1
A hundred days before the college entrance exam, my mother would stay up late with me every single night, keeping me company while I studied.
But on the day of the exam, she went insane.
She stood at the door, blocking my way, refusing to let me leave the house.
And just when I thought things couldn’t get worse, my father—who had never shown the slightest interest in me or my life—suddenly stepped in.
He shoved my mother aside and urged me to go.
I stood frozen, overwhelmed by the chaos, as they started yelling at each other.
“Sweetheart, trust me,” my mother pleaded, her eyes wide and desperate. “I’ve been reborn. The road to the exam site will collapse. Going there is suicide!”
“No, honey, listen to your father,” he said, glaring at her. “She’s lying. She just doesn’t want you to outshine her illegitimate child.”
My mother’s face turned crimson as she pointed a trembling finger at him.
“You bastard! You know the road will collapse! You’re trying to kill our daughter!”
My father snapped, “Stop twisting the truth! In our past life, you were the one who stopped her from taking the exam. And she died in misery because of it!”
I didn’t step in to stop them like I used to.
I just laughed coldly, turned around, and slammed the door shut behind me.
They didn’t know the truth.
I had been reborn too.
——
The moment I opened the door that morning, and they both started saying the exact same things they had in my past life—I knew it.
It was real.
I had come back.
Leaning against the door, my chest rose and fell rapidly. My heart was in turmoil, memories of pain and betrayal crashing down on me.
It wasn’t until I heard my mother’s triumphant laughter from the other side of the door that I snapped back to the present.
“See? My daughter still listens to me,” she said smugly.
My father didn’t reply, but I knew one thing for certain.
I couldn’t stay here any longer.
I quickly stuffed a few essentials into my backpack and swung the door open.
My mother’s victorious smile froze on her face.
“Where are you going with your backpack?” she asked, startled.
I didn’t answer.
Instead, I looked calmly at my father.
“When you’re done arguing,” I said flatly, “take me to the station. If we’re late, I’ll miss the bus.”
My father, still holding a cigarette between his fingers, paused for a moment. Then he flicked it aside and walked over to me.