Chapter 3

02.

“No! I want to watch you drink it all!”

“I won’t feel right until you finish it, Stella.”

That’s exactly what he said in my last life.

Back then, I was so moved I drank the whole thing without a second thought.

Only when I was convulsing on the exam room floor did I realize he was a born monster who never wished me well for a single second of my life.

Hearing those same words again, I fought back the rage bubbling in my chest. I lifted the glass, took a tiny, performative sip, and then set it down.

“See, Caleb? I took a sip.”

“But it’s too hot right now. I’ll finish it in a bit. You should go back to bed, okay?”

His eyes were glued to my mouth. As soon as he saw the white milk mustache on my upper lip, he seemed satisfied and finally left.

I immediately ran to the bathroom, spit out the mouthful of milk, and brushed my teeth over and over. A small blister still formed on the inside of my lip.

He really, really wanted me dead.

Just then, I heard voices from the next room. It was my stepmother, Elara, and Caleb.

“Caleb, did you give that bitch the milk I told you to?”

“Don’t worry, Mom. I already did. And I swapped the laxatives you put in with some real weed killer. Once she drinks that, the bitch is as good as dead!”

Caleb’s voice was cold and vicious, nothing like the innocent boy from a moment ago.

If I hadn’t heard it myself, I’d never believe such evil words could come from a thirteen-year-old.

Even Elara was shocked by his confession.

“I just told you to give her laxatives! All we needed was for her to screw up her exams so she’d have to come home, get married off, and we could use the bride price for your expenses. Why would you…”

“Mom, how much money can you get from marrying her off? I took out a life insurance policy on her. If she dies, we get a million dollars!”

“A million dollars. Isn't that a hell of a lot better than a measly bride price?”

“Oh! Oh, my god! My brilliant baby boy, you think of everything!”

Elara was ecstatic, smothering Caleb with hugs and kisses.

My blood ran cold.

I had wondered why I suddenly had a life insurance policy I never signed up for. It was them. This whole time, it was them.

My eyes fell on the herbal tonic simmering on the kitchen stove. Without a shred of guilt, I picked up the glass of poisoned milk and poured every last drop into it.