What a sight.

A wagon that had rolled down the slope lay shattered, the luggage it once held strewn here and there. A few steps away from the wreckage was a bleeding man.

Cassion Carter.

He was the male lead’s older brother. He was also one of the novel’s villains.

Stepping over unkempt gravel, I came closer and intruded upon this tranquil yet raucous scene. Cassion, who was covered entirely in blood, gasped loudly and laboriously raised his head as he sensed my presence.

“Please . . . save . . . me . . .”

Laced with overflowing emotion, his broken plea imparted an intense desperation that seemed to say: I want to live. It’s unfair. I’m not done yet. I don’t want to die.

I leaned towards him to face him more squarely, and eyes that were as red as the blood that covered his body fluttered open to meet with mine.

“You want to live, huh?”

It seemed as if he had already expended all the strength left in him, so instead of answering with words, he communicated with just one slow blink. I raised his chin carefully, and his blood immediately soaked my own hands as if I had been wounded as well. I knelt beside him and placed his head on my lap. His blood was as red as his pallor was ashen.

“If you want to live, you have to promise me one thing.”

As if he was a wild beast that had been hunted and left to die alone, he breathed with incredible difficulty. Hot air permeated through my clothes and brushed against my thighs. I reached toward his face and caressed his cheek in an attempt to comfort him, and what met my gesture was a gaze full of determination and resentment.

“If I save you . . .”

Lay down your own life to protect my sister.

My younger sister Alicia Valentine, who was also this wretched novel’s female lead.

This way, my sister and I won’t have to share the same fate.

* * *

It was a few days before I came across Cassion when I woke up as this world’s villainess, Rosetta Valentine.

Hwick!

There was a piercing sound that tore through the air, straight into my ears. In a daze, I woke up in a foreign room where two strangers came in one after another.

‘. . . What is this . . .’

Where am I?

As my gaze wandered, a woman who held a riding whip in her hand raised an arm in one large motion. Before the woman stood a girl who looked about seventeen years old, trembling and blinking repeatedly as she stretched her arms forward. Despite being faced with this pitiful sight, the whip rose up high and cleaved down through the air without remorse.

Hwick!

Even as the whip emitted a sharp sound that had surely caused immense pain, the girl did not make a sound and instead bit her lips. She did not scream nor groan, did not betray even a hint of defiance.

‘What exactly is going on here?’

What a unique wake-up call. Why was there someone getting beaten in front of me? Would there be more people who’d be beaten?

Surely . . .

‘I died.’

As my memories arose, I felt around my chest. Strangely, my hand didn’t go in. There was no trace—my clothes weren’t torn nor soaked in damp blood—but that can’t be true. A knife that pierced through my chest should have been there accompanied by the pain of torn flesh, of something breaking, of a scorching liquid trickling down . . . It was all too vivid.

‘No way . . . Again?’

However, due to the immense pain that blocked my train of thought, my memories stopped there. When my arm brushed against my clothes, electricity shot through my entire body. I shifted my gaze from the two people, both of whom I didn’t know, and rolled up my sleeves to inspect my injury, slowly so they wouldn’t notice.

‘Injury . . . ?’

It’s fortunate that my clothes were loose, otherwise, I would have had to remove the entire top to check. But as the sleeves rolled higher, countless red lines appeared from above the elbow to right below the shoulder, and old wounds broke open once more by more recent cuts.

Hwick!

As I inspected the wounds, the harsh sound permeated the air once more, and my eyes automatically followed.

‘That’s where this wound came from.’

I—or, I guess, the true owner of this body—was being stricken by a whip when I woke up in this world. But, no, I must still be out of it.

“Ugh . . .”

The girl let out a small whimper as her knees gave out from under her. At first glance, it seemed as if the woman had pulled her or gripped the girl tightly enough to have made the girl collapse, but in reality, the woman merely reached for the girl’s arm, the one that she had been fervently striking not too long ago.

“Ack!”

“Lady Alicia.”

A pained shriek coincided with a graceful voice. It was a far cry from harmony.

The woman pulled her forward and bent down to look into the girl’s eyes, a golden hue that expressed fear and anxiety.

“It is not befitting of a lady to utter such a sound . . . I believe I taught you well enough,” the woman said as her hand grazed over the girl’s wounds.

Upon seeing the bloody marks on the girl called Alicia, I unconsciously gripped my own wounded arms. Mine looked more like scratches compared to hers, and sure enough, tears streamed down the girl’s face. It looked as if she was trying to suppress the pain by pushing down the urge to utter a sound.

The woman moved away from Alicia, straightening her back and looking down at the girl with a mixture of contempt and sadistic glee.

“Five strikes left to complete your punishment, Milady.”

As more tears streamed down Alicia’s cheeks, I clenched my fists. I shook in disbelief at the scene playing before me, but as I looked at my own arms, I realized how incredulous this all was.

“I’m . . . I’m sorry, Nanny.”

‘Nanny?’

That middle-aged woman was her nanny? But judging from the fact that I sported the same marks as Alicia, did that mean this woman was my nanny as well?

In any case, that wasn’t the issue here. Whether this woman was her and Alicia’s nanny or mother or whoever else, it was absolutely not right for anyone to cause such harsh violence upon another person. It was even more heinous considering how this woman obviously enjoyed this, judging by how high the corner of her lips tilted up.

Rather than punishment, it seemed like the woman was just letting off steam for her own benefit.

Ha.

Without realizing it, a scoff escaped my lips. It was exhausting just taking in this scene, and my head was still up in the clouds from fatigue and disorientation. Waking up to a seventeen or eighteen-year-old girl getting flogged was surely not the way to start anyone’s day.

‘I just wanna lie down somewhere and pass out . . .’

But rather than having the chance to rest, I was stuck witnessing a poor kid get beaten to death.

I raised my hand again to feel my chest, just to check once more. There really wasn’t a gaping wound there, not a scratch at all.

‘. . . I guess there’s no other choice.’

I sat up and purposely made a sound to shift their attention to me, at which both Alicia and the nanny looked toward me at the same time.

“You’re awake, Lady Rosetta.”

Rosetta? Is that what the owner of this body’s name is?

I nodded wordlessly.

I really have to wake up, though. The original Rosetta might not be here now, but she and I weren’t the same person.

“What was that just now . . .”

“I’ll take her place.”

. . . Sigh.

Shocked by my statement, the nanny struggled to control her expression and stamped on a smile to erase the contempt that previously pervaded her features.

“You’ll . . . take her place?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

Just now a knife to my chest ended my life, so a few more hits shouldn’t make a difference. Besides, no matter how peculiar a situation this was, I still couldn’t stand to ignore what was right in front of me.

Perhaps I might even be able to flee this situation by getting hit a few times. The girl would be able to breathe, the nanny would continue in her sadistic pleasure of trampling on the weak, and I might be able to get out of here. It was a win-win for everyone.

However, Alicia wasn’t on the same page. Stuttering as she clenched a fistful of her skirt, she said, “Sister . . . You don’t have to . . . I’ll—”

Shifting my gaze from the nanny to Alicia’s tear-stricken face, I replied, “No, I’ll receive your punishment. You look as if you’ll faint any moment now. As your older sister, it’s only right that I protect you.”

That’s right, I’m an older sister. Even if I really wasn’t related to her, Alicia kept calling me ‘sister,’ so for now I’d have to accept the role of an older sister.

As if she thought that something strange was going on, the nanny looked alternately between me and Alicia, trying to figure out what we were supposedly scheming.

After a brief moment of silence, the nanny peered at the girl before her and moved away, sauntering towards my direction. A strange smile flitted across her face.

“Na-nanny!”

Even at Alicia’s desperate outburst, the woman did not stop. Now in front of me, the nanny leaned forward and roughly gripped my chin to level my eyes with hers. It stung. Then, in a low voice, she whispered so that only I would hear.

“Ah, how lovely this act is . . .”

She stared right into my eyes and smiled, letting go of my face with a chuckle.

“This display of sisterly affection is enough for today, Lady Alicia and Lady Rosetta. I hope you don’t get into trouble again—seeing you suffer pains me as well.”

. . . What was this woman talking about. She looked ecstatic at the idea of scolding us more. Even as she spoke with a grave tone, the whip once again tore through the air with a sharp sound.

Hwick! Alicia flinched at the sound of wind being cut.

“Then, let’s call it a day, miladies.”

The nanny turned her back on us and inserted the whip into a vase, which served as a camouflage to transform it into nothing more than an ornament.

As the door clicked shut, Alicia, who had been trembling the entire time, sank down to the floor. As I had already been on my knees, I moved to the chaise lounge and sat there while watching Alicia cry.

‘Ah, finally. Some peace and quiet.’

Stealing a peek at the crying Alicia though . . . ah. That’s not cute at all.

I began to organize my thoughts with the melody of Alicia’s sobbing as my background music.

‘It seems like I’ve possessed the body of a character in a novel.’

Alicia, Rosetta, and the nanny that abused them. All three appeared in a novel.

If you ask me why I came to this conclusion . . .

It’s because I’d been through this ordeal four times already.

Yes, four times. Not once, not twice, not even three times. Four.

I’m really . . .

‘Really tired of this.’

─────────────────────

My life as a transmigrator started off with a tired old cliché.

Just like many other parallel universe hoppers out there, I was minding my own business while I was on my way home with a can of beer in hand. Then, all of a sudden, a truck bulldozed over me, and soon after, I woke up inside a fictional world.

It was an ordinary beginning, all things considered.

In this first transmigration of mine, I was reincarnated into a ********. I possessed the body of a “Type A” kind of female lead, who presented herself as a student entirely dedicated to nothing but her grades. Yet once she would step out of school grounds, she’d get herself involved with gang fights and turf wars and whatnot. It was a life where, even if you had twelve bodies, it’d still not be enough. Besides, ‘I’ didn’t know what the fights were actually about, so it was all just terribly exhausting.

Nevertheless, I had no other choice but to follow the original story as it was written. Holding onto what feeble hope I had that maybe—just maybe—if I see through it and reach the novel’s ending, I might be able to go back to my original world.

Of course, life wasn’t so easy.

A day before my graduation in that world, I was once again bulldozed by a truck.

‘This . . . What is this . . .’

The next time I came to, I realized that I possessed the body of yet another character.

* * *

The second world I found myself in was a martial arts fantasy fusion, sort of like a cultivation novel.

Beside me was a father who was a master and brothers who had achieved transcendence, and so due to this kind of background, it was effortless for me to hone my skills and learn the way of the sword. Faithfully enough, this world’s genre meant that to live was to fight, and to fight was to live.

With no time to grieve my previous life’s death, I decided to grab the bull by the horns. I wasn’t able to reach the previous novel’s conclusion, but this time for sure, I’d reach the end.

My second transmigration, which started with a hopeful outlook, hit me with a forkball instead of a fastball.

Since I wasn’t familiar with such tropes like the ‘Four Heavenly Kings’ and whatnot, something any high school student would have known the lore to by heart, I initially couldn’t figure out how to use my abilities. It was weird that whenever faced with situations where even the smallest gap in one’s defense meant death, nobody coughed up blood.

Well anyhow, just like the last time, I was unable to see this novel’s ending.

I honed my abilities and strived to become a character befitting a protagonist, and so I pushed my weak body and trained like a madman. It was a struggle to hold a wooden sword properly at the beginning of my training, but after a year passed, I was then able to turn a piece of cloth into a weapon sharp enough to cut through flesh.

Ironically, such passion led to a worse demise. In one small instance where I suddenly couldn’t use my abilities, I was caught by the villain, and in the midst of running away, I tripped over a rock and died.

That’s right. This time, I was killed by the ground.

‘Fuck.’

I couldn’t help but curse at myself.

This wasn’t a sitcom, though? How could my death be so hilariously pathetic that a drowning fish would seem like a bodhisattva’s ascension in comparison?

But anyway, I entered my third transmigration after this absurdity.

Before I woke up as Rosetta, I lived as the female lead of a novel that was countless times worse than the past two rounds. If one were to search to the ends of the earth, scour through every single novel out there, there wouldn’t be anyone who’d top this character as the most pathetic, most pitiful female lead.

‘Rita Vernand.’

Ugh. Well.

Yeah.

Honestly, it was a dark past that I’d rather not think about. I’d have preferred to take the dreaded CSAT a hundred times more than to live one more second as Rita Vernand.

In that life, instead of the male lead, it was me who was stabbed to death.

At the male lead’s downfall—the male lead who did all sorts of crazy things due to his obsession with me, by the way—one of his enemies had pointed a knife at him just as scheduled. But instead of letting nature run its course, I jumped in front of him to take the hit.

Don’t get me wrong, though. I wasn’t inspired by the noble spirit of sacrifice or anything, nor had I fashioned an illusion of love through the almighty power of Stockholm Syndrome. I felt nothing of the sort.

I just really, really wanted to leave that place so I would never see that little shit of a male protagonist ever again.

That was all I was hoping for.

“Rita!”

During the last few seconds before my third transmigration ended, that guy’s face got as messed up as I imagined it to be as he wailed in lamentation.

That’s right. Cry some more, you damn son of a bitch.

I ended my third round with a bitter taste in my mouth. I thought I’d finally rest easy—I wanted it to be the end. I had no desire to live any longer. All the lingering attachments I had left for my original world had long since disappeared.

Since my past lives ended through accidental means, I thought that I could finally be set free of this unending torture if I willingly jumped to death on my own volition.

However, I could almost hear the echo of a nonexistent being’s derisive cackle directed at me when, yet again, I had escaped death.

‘I’m so done.’

As I opened my eyes, I realized that I might never be able to break away from this cycle. No matter how many times I died, I would eventually wake up again, and again, and again.

I had grown desensitized to the value of my own life. The lives I fulfilled weren’t mine to begin with, and so these deaths meant nothing to me. Despair had stopped visiting me the moment I was granted immortality; the anguish of a wealthy man entailed the power to obtain all the treasures in the world, but never the answer to happiness.

‘Oh well. What kind of novel is it this time . . .’

The first round was a ********, and the second was a martial arts cultivation novel. The third was . . .

The worst. The absolute worst of the worst.

And now the fourth was—

Thankfully, I didn’t have to wrack my brain for the title of a novel every time I entered a new world. The moment I’d possess the body of a character, the novel’s contents would affix themselves at a corner of my subconscious. Whenever I wanted to know something about the world I was in, I’d be able to find the answers in that internal book as if I was searching through my own memories.

‘I read this when I was in high school.’

< The Everlasting Flower > was a novel I distinctly remember reading at the school library.

Alicia Valentine was the female lead of this novel.

‘And Rosetta . . .’

Alicia’s half-sister; the ducal family’s disgrace; an unwanted illegitimate child;

A worthless sub-villain.

Using Rosetta’s perpetually jealousy over this half-sister of hers who hailed from a pure lineage, the male lead used this as justification to brutally murder Rosetta in the end.

The devil works hard, but the universe works harder to make my repeated life a living hell.

* * *

‘You can’t run away from me forever, Rita.’

Rita. Rita. You . . .

‘Because you are my eternal darkness.’

Stop, stop, stop. Just stop it now.

The short breath I inhaled turned into a gasp, a shudder simultaneously crawling through my spine. It was followed by cold sweat on my forehead and an inexplicable tremor on my hands. That horrendous, nightmarish voice rang between my ears. No matter how many times I tried to forget him, his ubiquitous malevolence continued to haunt me.

Frantically, I brought my hands to my chest to check if the knife was still there. It wasn’t.

‘Right . . . I’m not Rita anymore . . .’

My time as Rita had already come to pass. She’s become history now—a past that I would no longer need to revisit.

As I regained my senses slowly, I could feel my breaths turn from severe gasps to gentler huffs, my sight from a spotted mess to a gradually clearer image. My eyes could not keep up with the light that soon returned to me, and so I couldn’t help but squint even though I wanted to take in as much of its radiance as I could.

“Oh, it’s dazzling.”

From beyond a large window beside the bed, countless rays of sunlight poured through from the clear blue sky above.

Absolutely dazzling.

‘It’s been a while since I saw something like this.’

During my entire life as Rita, I lived as if I was already six feet underground, locked up in a place where darkness was my only companion. No matter how much time passed, it hadn’t been possible for me to know whether it was night or day.

I endured, survived, persisted.

I lived, but did not truly live.

And yet now, the sun was shining so brightly for me.

Looking out the window blankly, I thought that I had finally woken up in a nice place. Ever since the beginning of my life as a transmigrator, I was at the mercy of a fickle roulette that refused to divulge what kind of fate I next had in store.

When struck with misfortune, one might turn up in a place like the third round. If you got lucky, on the other hand . . .

Well I wouldn’t know. The goddess of fortune never smiled down on me.

Anyway, since my most recent point of reference was my third round, anywhere else was comparatively better. Anywhere at all.

If I were to rank my role here . . . I think I’d be third place or something. I wasn’t the protagonist this time; I wasn’t even a character that carried that much weight in this world. Presumably, as long as I didn’t do anything malicious, I should be able to live a normal, quiet life.

‘Ah, but. There’s one thing that’s bothering me.’

I lowered my gaze toward my unblemished forearms. The wounds I had sustained, stinging as I moved ever so slightly, were carefully hidden beneath my nightgown. Although I was accustomed to pain far worse than this, it wasn’t good to just receive it all wordlessly without so much as a protest.

Familiarity might become comforting in the long run, but pain would always be pain.

Throughout all my five lives, of which were comprised of my original life and my four transmigrations, I was resolute on the following: Don’t bully children. Don’t be a pushover. Be careful with family.

It’s better to nip it in the bud. Right now, a woman named Katie was definitely posing as a hindrance to my life.

I returned my gaze out the window to admire the scenery that it depicted.

Still, the sun enveloped me in its warm embrace.

                                  “So this is the garden,” I murmured as I looked around.

Passing through an archway adorned with vines, I couldn’t help but admire the intricacy dedicated to this garden. Though it was for a mere detached house, it was landscaped excellently with a splendor that was nothing to scoff at.

Truly, this was a duke’s estate.

For now, the biggest flaw in Rosetta’s memories was that she knew nothing about her surroundings. I could easily cover for anything regarding her personality or mannerisms because it didn’t seem like she was close to her family or with any employee of the mansion. She rarely left her room and was never one for walks, but after eating breakfast earlier this morning, I ventured out on this light stroll.

Despite not going out of her room often, wasn’t it too much that this girl didn’t know her way around her own house? After leaving my room, I made it my first imperative to familiarize myself with the estate’s layout. I’d think about how to deal with the nanny, Katie, later.

As I admired the beautiful garden on my walk, I soon regretted the decision to leave my room. Through a gap between two tall bushes of the summer garden, I saw a familiar face.

Standing amidst a flower bed, with golden curls that glistened in natural light and golden eyes on a smooth, ivory complexion that stood out against the sunflowers blooming behind her on this summer day, was Alicia Valentine, my half-sister and this novel’s heroine

Yesterday, Alicia had done nothing but quiver like a crumbling leaf during a storm, yet now that she was surrounded with flowers as she basked in the sun, it dawned upon me that she was, undeniably, the main character of this world.

Which reminded me. I guess we’re in the third chapter now.

The main character’s appearance in a scene always signified something big, which was why I regretted my decision to leave my room even more. Just thinking about this made me wince.

Every third chapter was like a nightmare come to life.

It was inevitable that we’d bump into each other since we lived in the same house and we were required to meet regularly with the nanny in the guise of ‘education,’ so I really wouldn’t have been able to avoid her forever. As I observed Alicia, it made me reminisce about the past. After all, I was in her shoes not too long ago.

Just until the day before yesterday, I lived as Rita, so I was going to need more time to forget those memories. I had been happy just to see the flowers today and I didn’t want to ruin my current mood, however—

Alright. Let’s go.

I quickly made up my mind and turned my back on her—no, I tried to turn back.

If Alicia had found my retreating figure just a few seconds later, we wouldn’t have met gazes and I would have gone back to my room while pretending not to have seen her, whether or not she realized I had been there.

“Ah!” Alicia exclaimed as soon as she saw me, hiding her hands behind her back.

Well, no matter how she concealed her hands behind her, I wasn’t curious about what she’s trying to hide anyway.

Ah but, what was she doing, screaming like this?

At this part of the narrative, Rosetta hadn’t done anything to Alicia yet. While the older sibling did harbor a festering jealousy, she still kept this to herself and merely seethed quietly.

Up until this point, Rosetta had only actively ignored Alicia, so I couldn’t believe that she’s already screaming in surprise just by me looking at her.

It was a bit awkward, especially since I could feel that the other person was uncomfortable as well. As if time had frozen, we stared at each other without a word. It was too late for anyone to turn around without saying something.

Surprisingly, Alicia broke the silence first.

Trembling, she swallowed audibly as if she was about to jump into a volcano.

“Um . . . How do you do, Sister . . .” she said, her stuttering voice greeting me shyly.

Hmm? Shyly?

Contemplating whether the word ‘shy’ suited her demeanor considering the two sisters’ relationship, I just nodded slightly and said, “Yeah, hi.”

A small bashful smile graced Alicia’s lips as she stared at me nervously. She looked like a girl talking to her crush for the first time.

Now wait a minute. I’m the one in front of you though, so why?

“Um . . . Sister . . .” Alicia tried again, her cheeks going red as she stepped toward me, bringing her previously hidden hands forward. She held yellow flowers in her hands and showed them to me. They were obviously picked without the use of tools since the stems looked clumsy.

Not knowing what to say, I just gaped at those flowers.

I mean, why did you hide these if they were just flowers? And why were you showing them to me now?

Everything Alicia did today confused me, and so I was left speechless.

Silence stretched between us once more, growing even heavier. This made Alicia’s blushing cheeks slowly turn pale, and her big doe eyes blinked with unease.

With the way she kept blinking even though I did nothing to her, it now looked like I was bullying her for no reason.

“I . . . I’m sorry for what happened yesterday, Sister . . . and I’m also grateful.”

“Me? For what?” I asked, the response leaving my lips before I knew it.

I really didn’t know why she was sorry and thankful, so I just spit out the question, but now Alicia’s face turned blue.

She chewed on her red lips persistently as if nectar would spill out, and answered with a shaky voice. “That . . . You took my place . . . and you gave me . . . a handkerchief.”

Well, I tried to take her place, but I didn’t get hit in the end.

And the handkerchief . . .

Yesterday, I left Alicia alone in that room although she was crying.

It would have been troublesome to wait for her to calm down, and in the first place, I didn’t think we were close enough for me to go that far. As her sobbing continued, it wasn’t appropriate for me to wipe her tears, so I instead grabbed a handkerchief and tossed it to her without saying anything.

That shouldn’t be something to be grateful for.

I hesitated on my words as I looked at Alicia, who was still biting her lips. I honestly thought I didn’t do anything noteworthy, and besides, although I wasn’t doing malicious acts right now, I was still a villain.

Whether it was intentional or unintentional, I somehow gained the main character’s favor. This would undoubtedly prove to be helpful to me, so there’s no reason for me to waste this opportunity.

“No, it was nothing,” I answered with a friendly tone. At this, the roses on Alicia’s cheeks bloomed once more.

“No, no, I’m really . . . really grateful. I picked these flowers in return for the handkerchief you gave me . . .”

As her hands shook with an undulating tremor, yellow petals hanging from their blue stems danced in the air.

Just then did I realize that Alicia was offering the flowers to me as a gift. It was only when Alicia directly said ‘this is for you’ did I realize it was a gift.

Gosh, sorry about that.

This child was giving me a gift, but I didn’t realize it due to how pale she was just looking at me. I couldn’t help but doubt what was right before my eyes because it had been so long since I received such a wholesome gift.

We’re in the third chapter, and it’s only been a couple days since I came here, that’s why it didn’t occur to me that I’d be able to receive flowers that someone personally picked for me.

I reached out slowly and tenderly took the flowers from Alicia’s grip. When I brought them into my arms, their scent fluttered towards me. It was a fragrance that matched these summer blossoms.

“Thanks. They’re pretty.”

Despite my curt appreciation, Alicia smiled as if I gave the world to her, her cherry lips wide with immaculately white teeth.

“I’m glad, Sister,” she replied briefly like I did, but the emotion she conveyed was pure. It was nothing like the half-hearted attempt I did—hers was filled with a splendid innocence.

I was rendered speechless for a moment.

All I could see was how Alicia thanked me with a bright smile and pure joy. It reminded me how I was flooded by overwhelming emotions when I was woken up by the bright sunny sky for the first time in a long while.

“These summer blossoms are beautiful . . .” Alicia rambled softly. I couldn’t hear what she was saying very well. “I know that you don’t like gardens that much, so . . . I wanted to show these to you, Sister . . .”

As Alicia was distracted by her nerves, she didn’t feel my burning gaze on her smile.

‘Was there ever a time I smiled just like that?’

This question suddenly assailed my senses. Perhaps, before I went through the third round, maybe I could smile like that as well.

However, that was a long, long time ago. Now, only a worn out shell was left.

Just a while ago, wasn’t I uncomfortable around Alicia because she resembled my previous life closely? But now, I couldn’t see herself as anyone but an extension of myself. Shadows of my past selves blurred into her features.

A crying face. A desperate face. An enraged face.

And lastly, a face . . . devoid of emotion.

Resignation.

Resignation was the only thing left when faced with despair.

This was how I felt throughout everything, and it was only a matter of time until my past would become Alicia’s reality.

Unconsciously, I opened my lips and murmured, “You . . .”

Alicia, who was still in the middle of rambling, halted her mumbles and shifted her gaze to me.

“Yes?”

“You . . .”

It was suffocating.

It felt like a void suddenly appeared within me, burrowing itself in my stomach.

The stems of the clumsy bouquet prickled at my fingers.

“You, you’re . . . pretty.”

As I struggled to get the words out, Alicia immediately flushed red. In her embarrassment, she covered her face as she proceeded onto another bout of rambles.

“What? No, not at all! In my eyes, Sister is infinitely . . . more beautiful . . . and unlike our other family members, my hair isn’t silver . . .”

This point of time was when the story had yet to begin in its flourish, and so this lovely heroine still shone so brightly.

And yet, this child’s fate replayed over and over in my head.

You . . . really.

This poor thing.

I couldn’t bring myself to say anything.

Whether it was sympathy for you, or even for myself, I didn’t know either.

Maybe it’s because the sun was so warm today.

Ah, my throat felt dry.

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