Chapter 2

02

In my last life, that car accident on the way to the hospital was no coincidence.

My gut told me it was a setup.

This time, I hailed a motorcycle and handed the driver a thick stack of cash to take the back alleys.

Sure enough, as we skirted the main road, I saw the same multi-car pile-up.

I caught a glimpse of the man behind the wheel of the lead car. It was Xavier Reed, Lylah's true love.

The pieces finally clicked. But this time, I wasn't going to play my part in their script.

I burst into the hospital room and saw Sasha carefully injecting something into Lylah's IV.

"Lylah!" I wailed, throwing myself into the room.

"It's all my fault! If I hadn't argued with you, you wouldn't be like this! Please, wake up and hit me!"

I sobbed hysterically, grabbing Lylah's limp hand and slamming it against my motorcycle helmet.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the label on the vial. Ketamine.

The anesthetic hadn't fully kicked in yet. This had to hurt.

Sasha's face went pale. She stammered, "Caleb? How are you here so fast? Wasn't the traffic backed up?"

I looked her straight in the eye. "How did you know about the traffic?"

She froze for a second before stammering, "I... I heard it from a colleague. A big crash on the freeway, so..."

I didn't give her a chance to finish. I went back to my performance, wailing loudly.

Sasha frantically started texting someone under the table.

I knelt by the bed, flailing my arms in grief, purposefully landing heavy, accidental punches on Lylah's stomach.

Each blow was for the decades they bled me dry.

Each hit was for the humiliation and the way they played me for a fool.

Lylah's medical records always showed she was healthy as an ox. Heart disease? What a joke.

She wanted to fake her death to run away with her lover? Not on my watch.

On the way over, I had already called a budget funeral service.

The hearse arrived within minutes. I pulled Lylah's ID and the fake death certificate Sasha had already prepared out of her bag.

I told the funeral directors to take the body for immediate cremation.

Sasha grabbed my arm, trying to stop me.

"Caleb, wait! Her parents aren't here yet. They need to see her one last time."

"I know you're grieving, but don't be in such a rush..."

I shoved her arm away with enough force to send her stumbling.

"What is wrong with you? Don't you want her to find peace? I can't stand to see her body cold like this!"

Sasha hit the floor, her eyes wide with panic.

Just then, Lylah's parents burst in, panting and complaining about the traffic.

I smiled inwardly. They were hoisted by their own petard.

Martha blocked the hearse as they were loading the gurney.

"Stop! In our family, we have a tradition. We have to keep the body for seven days of mourning before the fire!"

"Martha, Lylah told me once she wanted to be cremated immediately. She hated lingering," I lied through my teeth.

The funeral workers looked at me, then at the parents, clearly annoyed at the back-and-forth.

"Look, we can cancel, but it's a three-hundred-dollar service fee for the trip. Who's paying?" the driver asked.

Martha rolled her eyes at me.

"Caleb, you called them. Pay the man."

I acted shocked, then patted my pockets with a look of helpless despair.

"Mom, I was so worried about Lylah I forgot my wallet and my phone. Can you cover it? We can't just leave her sitting in the hallway."

She grumbled and fished some crumpled bills out of her purse, looking like she was being robbed.

Oh, is three hundred dollars too much for you? In my last life, I paid back twenty million for you people. We're just getting started.

The workers took the money and started moving the body back to the hospital bed.

I stepped in to help, and as we lifted her, I purposely let her side slip.

Lylah's body tumbled off the gurney, her head hitting the linoleum floor with a sickening thud.