We Would Never Meet Again

Now, she, the victim, was expected to apologize to the perpetrator.

Hiding behind Ian, Rea's eyes flashed with smug satisfaction.

“There are only two people in this world I’d ever kneel to. They are Grandma and Mrs. Cumberland.”

“If you insist this is my fault, then I’ll return it to her.”

Clara spoke calmly, then reached for a nearby wine bottle and smashed it against her own head.

Bang!

Warm liquid gushed from her scalp as fresh blood trickled down her face.

A sharp ringing filled her ears, her vision blurred and through the crimson veil, she stared at Ian and asked, "Is this enough?"

“You’re insane!”

Ian rushed forward in panic, his eyes wide with horror as he took in the blood streaking down her face.

"Driver! Get the car ready!"

His usually composed voice trembled as he barked orders.

[System Alert: Host is critically injured. One day of life remaining. Activating soul power to repair the wound.]

A cold, mechanical voice echoed in Clara's mind and as if by magic, the gash on her forehead began closing at an unnatural speed.

Ian turned his head just as Rea gasped in surprise.

“Clara, there’s no wound on your head at all! I understand that you’re upset about me and Ian's engagement, but you can’t resort to self-harm just to scare us.”

When Ian heard her accusation, he froze. His gaze flickered to Clara’s forehead and when he saw that it was indeed unscathed, his expression darkened with fury.

“Clara! When will you stop? First, you try to harm someone with a chandelier and now you’re resorting to fake self-harm?”

“If I had known you’d turn out like this, I never would have let my mother bring you home!”

Standing alone in the grand living room, Clara felt a coldness seep into her bones, colder than anything she had ever known.

She had only one day left to live and yet the only family she had, the brother she loved most, was saying he regretted ever taking her in. He did not ... want her anymore.

The realization struck her like a thunderbolt, her vision blackened and for a moment, she nearly collapsed.

Ian’s expression was unreadable as he turned away and he pulled Rea away with him. He didn’t spare Clara a second glance at all.

Today was the last day. Clara descended the stairs and found Ian just as he was about to leave with Rea.

She bit her lip nervously before mustering the courage to call out, “Brother, can we have dinner together tonight? Just the two of us.”

She just wanted … to say goodbye properly.

Ian frowned because he thought this was another inappropriate confession. When he was about to refuse, Rea placed a gentle hand on his arm.

“Let her have this moment, Ian. I have to go home tonight anyway. Spend some time with your little sister. You wouldn’t want to make her sad.”

With her urging, Ian finally relented.

Clara finally got the answer she wanted, but as she watched them stand side by side, a perfect picture of harmony, an unbearable sadness welled up inside her.

She watched their figures disappear through the doorway before taking a deep breath and turning back to her room.

There wasn't much time left for her.

Ian and Rea had just gotten engaged. Having a dead person's things in the house would bring bad luck.

She didn’t want to trouble anyone, so she needed to gather her belongings now and burn them before she was gone.

However, when she looked around the room, she hesitated. Everything in it, from her clothes to her toiletries, even her schoolbag, had been personally chosen by Ian. He actually was not someone who was particularly attentive.

However back when she first arrived at the Cumberland Family’s home, she hadn’t known she was allergic to milk. She had unknowingly drunk what the servants gave her. As a result, she broke out in hives and developed a high fever in the middle of the night.

If Ian hadn’t checked in on her and brought medicine … she didn’t know how much worse it would have gotten.