Then I dropped them into the family group chat.
In my previous life, I'd told them it wasn't me. That I hadn't pushed her. And every last one of them had piled on, pointing fingers, insisting I was the one who'd knocked Aunt Patricia down.
This time, I had proof.
What I didn't expect was how fast Aunt Patricia responded.
"Jennifer, what is wrong with you?"
"You just up and leave without a word? What if something happens to me?"
Then the others started chiming in, one after another—saying I shouldn't be traveling during the holidays, that it was selfish, that it was wrong.
I stared at the messages flooding the screen, and I fired back at every single one.
"Uncle Harold—Aunt Patricia's health isn't great, but she's YOUR sister. Taking care of her is YOUR responsibility."
"And to my other relatives: I'm not allowed to have a life during the holidays?"
"Since when is going on vacation a crime?"
Then I tagged Derek directly.
"Your mother isn't MY mother. If she needs someone to look after her, come back and do it yourself."
"I took care of her out of the goodness of my heart—because I felt sorry for her."
"That doesn't mean her problems are mine to carry."
The group chat went dead silent.
After my parents died a few years ago, these people had latched onto me. Always calling, always asking for favors. Back then, I'd thought it meant they cared. I'd even convinced myself they were good people.
Now I understood. I was never family to them. I was free labor they could summon whenever it suited them.
In my last life, plenty of people in that group chat knew the truth—knew I hadn't pushed Aunt Patricia. But not a single one had spoken up for me. Not one word in my defense.
And why? Because my parents were gone. Because Derek was a deadbeat nobody wanted to deal with. So they let me take the fall instead.
If that was how it was, then I had no reason to stay in this group chat at all.
My words clearly caught them off guard. The silence stretched. None of them had expected me to push back this hard.
Finally, Uncle Harold broke the quiet.
"Jennifer, what's gotten into you?"
"We're just looking out for you, that's all."
"It's the holidays—you should be spending time with family, not running off on some trip."
"Besides, you've been taking care of your aunt for a whole year now. You just walk away like this—what's she supposed to do?"
I read his words, and a bitter laugh escaped me.