Fatal Trap: Intertwined Destinies

In my past life, I was startled and anxious, afraid she would do something foolish, so I hurried over and poured out that pot of oatmeal.

Yet I overlooked her calm demeanor at such a young age. Even upon seeing me, Lizzy showed no signs of panic. In her eyes, deep and cold as the abyss, there was only endless indifference and ruthlessness.

Lizzy's gaze was as calm as stagnant water without ripples.

She asked, his expression unreadable, "Auntie, are you going to expose me?"

Approaching, I poured out the oatmeal and gently embraced her. "Don't ruin your future for unworthy people," I whispered.

I felt sorry for this little girl, who was burdened with a life of torment at such a tender age, mirroring my own fate.

I wanted to help her as if I was helping the isolated and helpless version of myself from the past.

Seeing her emaciated figure and bruised face, I was too preoccupied with my sympathy for her to notice the fleeting malice and resentment in her eyes.

And that hatred was directed towards me.

The icy December water chilled me to the bone, each wave slapping against my face, nearly numbing my thoughts.

But amidst it all, I distinctly heard her say, "Why did you meddle and pour out that pot of oatmeal?

"If you hadn't interfered, they would all have gone to die with Grandpa!

"If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have suffered for so many years! It's all your fault! You deserve to die just like them!"

Suddenly, the words came to me. "A beam of light shines into the dark tower, exposing all the dirt and sin within, thus tainting the light with guilt."

Thinking of Lizzy's resentful face and her resolute decision to drag me into death with her, I chuckled bitterly, thinking, "Am I that guilty light?"

In my past life, I couldn't fathom it, and in this life, I still couldn't.

I couldn't understand, but I also didn't want to.

Upon rebirth, I grasped the most profound truth. That was letting go of the savior complex and respecting the destinies of others.

Moreover, staying far away from vampiric, toxic families.

So this time, as Lizzy wished, I didn't step forward to pour out that pot of oatmeal.

Concealed by the wall, I recorded the entire scene on my phone before quietly leaving.

Not long after I walked back to the table, Lizzy walked in carrying a bowl.

Inside, steaming hot oatmeal laced with something extra.

I glanced over and then averted my gaze.

Lizzy kept her head down and went to hand the bowl to her mother.

I couldn't judge whether this was right or wrong, for I myself had been a child bound by a toxic family intimately acquainted with the bitterness, hatred, resentment, and unwillingness within.

But everyone must bear the consequences of their choices.

Sipping my coffee, I sat on the sidelines, silently observing the scene.

I couldn't help but wonder, "In this life without my intervention, will Lizzy be content?"