"I know, I know… You don't have to forgive me. Don't ever forgive me. Just keep walking—walk all the way home. To a warm and peaceful home..."

Dante closed his eyes.

A sharp pain surged through my stomach, making me dizzy. I turned and stumbled outside, throwing up violently by the flower bed.

By the time William found me, I was sitting on the bench beside the flower bed, dazed.

"Hailey!" He rushed to my side, panic in his voice. "How are you feeling?"

I turned to him, my face streaked with tears. "You want the truth?"

"Of course."

"I'm scared. I just… want someone to help me."

He pulled me into his arms and gently wiped the tears from my face. "It's okay. I'll take you to the hospital right now. We'll hear what the doctors have to say. And while we're there, we'll do the chemo. I have money."

"Thank you." I smiled and shook my head. "But I've already talked to plenty of doctors. The chemo… It's a lie. It stopped working a long time ago. Do you even know what 'terminal stage' means?"

He held me tighter. His voice trembled. "Don't say things like that. Let's try treatment first."

"If I had a choice, I'd rather just get one shot and end it peacefully…"

"Don't talk like that!"

Suddenly, I held him tightly.

The camera had been tossed aside long ago.

What followed were my soft sobs. Then, loud, unrestrained crying.

…

[In the Next Life — March 15, 2024, 11:13 AM — Let's Meet Again in the Next Life]

"Hailey!"

The camera shook. William sounded urgent.

He burst through the door. I was curled up under a small blanket on the couch, slowly poking my head out.

He ran over and snatched the phone from my hands.

I only smiled. "I already saw it."

He quickly unlocked my phone.

My Instagram account was flooded with a tidal wave of accusations and hate. The inbox was packed with over 99+ messages—each one filled with insults.

All of it started because, on the same day my brother topped the wealth rankings, I used a burner account to leave a single comment: [Congratulations]

But someone had traced it back to me.

[What's she trying to do, show up now that her brother's rich and famous? Trying to crawl back into the family?]

[Even a dog raised by Ben is more loyal than Hailey—at least the dog doesn't care how poor you are.]

[And you're congratulating him? Who do you think you are? Ben has already adopted a new sister, someone who stayed by his side when he had nothing. Don't try to worm your way in.]

...

Amid the avalanche of hateful messages, only one message by "Ben" had been opened.

He'd sent a single question mark.

I hadn't replied.

But the chat box had once been filled with a long, unsent message. In the end, after editing and deleting, only one word remained: [Goodbye]

And even that… I didn't send.

"Hailey, don't take it to heart. Actually…"

"I know. I'm not bothered." I smiled and reached for my phone.

But the moment I stood up, everything went dark. I collapsed, face first.

From somewhere nearby, I heard William scream my name, "Hailey!"

The scene was cut suddenly. I was lying weakly on a hospital bed.

Doctors were shouting frantically nearby, "Over here! Bed Two, emergency surgery!"

I just stared quietly at the television mounted on the wall. It was showing an interview with my brother.

The reporter asked, "At this moment, who do you most want to share your joy with?"

Not long after, my phone began to ring.

On the other end, my brother's voice came cold and clipped, "Isn't there anything you want to say to me?"

On screen, he was poised in a tailored suit, full of confidence.

I smiled faintly. Satisfied. "No. Nothing."

He went silent for a second, then laughed scornfully. "What if you apologized now? Maybe I'd bring you back home."

I looked down at my hand, swollen and bruised from countless IVs. "That's not necessary. I've been doing just fine since I left."

His face darkened instantly.

My phone was snatched away.

William's voice came cold as ice, "Ben, she's dying."