For the ninety-ninth time, Clara Summer confessed her love and for the ninety-ninth time, she was rejected. After that, she gave her brother her blessing, "Brother, I wish you and your girlfriend a lifetime of happiness."

Ian Cumberland looked at Clara in surprise. "This is the first time you've called me 'brother' since my mom adopted you."

Clara's smile filled with sadness because she had already died. She had made a deal with a system and it granted her seven days to tie up loose ends before it disappeared forever.

——

As she sat alone on the couch, she stared at the remains of a shattered birthday cake, its colorful layers smeared across the floor.

She had been on her way back after buying a birthday cake for Ian’s birthday when a truck came barreling toward her. Then, it was darkness.

Everything was like a dream.

A rush of cold air suddenly came inside the door as Ian pushed open the door and entered. His voice was laced with irritation, "Did you call me all the way here just for this? Haven't I told you already that Rea is sick and I need to take care of her? So, I won't celebrate my birthday this year."

Clara slowly stood up, but her gaze still fixed on the ruined cake on the floor. "I called you because I have something important to say."

"What could possibly be so important?" he asked. His expression turned gloomy as impatient and tiredness appeared in his eyes.

"I've told you that Rea is sick and as her boyfriend, I need to be there for her. Are you throwing a tantrum just to get my attention?" he asked angrily.

"Let me warn you, Clara! If you keep acting out, you can leave the Cumberland Family!" After he said that, he stormed into his room and slammed the door behind him.

Clara just stood there as she watched his retreating figure. In a voice barely above a whisper, she murmured, "Ian … there won't be next time for me, because I've already dead."

However, of course, no one heard her whisper.

She sank back onto the couch as memories flooded her mind.

Actually, she was not Ian's biological sister. When she was four years old, her grandmother, who was her living relative, passed away. Ian's mother took her in and raised her as part of the family.

Back then, she had been shy and withdrawn and often hid in the attic. However, Ian had sought her out every day to play. He also brought her a variety of toys and gifts, trying to make her smile.

He had once promised her with unwavering confidence, "I'll stay with you during the day and my toys will keep you company. Clara, you’ll never be alone again. I’ll always be by your side."

He did keep his word. From the time she was four years old until now, Ian has been a constant presence in her life. He would drive her to and from school, without fail and give her after-school tutoring.

When Clara was in middle school, she was nearly assaulted by a few playboys at the banquet she attended. Ian was in a rage that he had gone berserk. If Mrs. Cumberland, his mother, had not tried with all her might to stop him, Ian would kill one of them at that time.

Since then, everyone knew Clara was an important person in Ian's heart and could not be touched.

To Clara, Ian is like a god who has descended from the heavens to save her.

She was completely in love. She had confessed countless times. She crafted rings from soda can tabs, woven grass and strings, each a symbol of her devotion. Each time, he had rejected her without hesitation.

This year, on his birthday, she tried one last time. However, this time, he exploded in fury. For the first time, he truly lashed out at her and tore her love letter right in front of her.

From that moment on, he deliberately distanced himself by staying out late to avoid her. Before long, he brought home a girl named Rea Jefferson, his so-called true love.

The night Clara died in the car accident, she had desperately called Ian over and over again, but each was hung up harshly.

When one was finally picked up, the voice on the other end wasn’t his voice but Rea. "Clara, Ian is in the shower right now. He’s busy. He doesn’t have time to talk to you."

Then, without waiting for a response, Rea hung up.

Pain ripped through Clara’s chest, suffocating her. Her vision blurred as agony engulfed her entire being and then, she took her final breath.

When Clara died, the system came and spoke to her. So, she seized the opportunity to strike a deal with it and exchanged her soul for a chance to bid farewell to Ian. It gave her a time limit of seven days.

As she sat in silence, Clara gazed at the clock on the table. If Ian had looked closely earlier, he might have noticed something unusual about it.

The clock only had seven-time markers.

She reached out and pushed the hand forward by one notch while whispering softly, "Six days left."

Early the next morning, Clara went out to go to the crematorium to purchase a burial plot and an urn.

Her death had been sudden and someone had to take care of her affair after her death.

At the crematorium, when the staff learned that she was buying a burial plot for herself, they jokingly remarked, "You're so young, so why are you thinking this far ahead already?"

Clara forced a wry smile on her face, "Well, there are six days left for me."

Hearing this, the staff cast a sympathetic glance at her. He mistakenly thought that she had a terminal sickness.

However, there was not any ripple in Clara's heart. All she thought about was settling her affair as quickly as possible so she would not be a burden to anyone. Then she could say her final goodbye to Ian properly.

When she returned home, she saw Ian and Rea standing at the entrance of the house. They were welcoming guests as if they were the masters of the house.

The moment Rea spotted her, she eagerly stepped forward and said warmly, "Clara, you're finally here! I've been waiting for you!"

She naturally linked her arms with Clara's, then feigned surprise as she asked, "Oh? Don’t you know that today is my promotion celebration party, so why are you wearing all black?"

Clara froze and glanced down at her clothes. She was momentarily at a loss for what she was supposed to say.

However, before she could respond, Ian's sharp voice cut through the air. "No one forced you to come. If you're unhappy, you can leave."

He assumed she was deliberately causing trouble. After all, having attended countless banquets as the Cumberland Family's adopted daughter, Clara should have known the basics of proper etiquette.

Under his icy glare, Clara sighed and lowered her head, then took the initiative to apologize humbly, "I'm sorry. I was in a rush today and didn't have time to change my clothes."

She was so obedient and her action made Ian and Rea feel somewhat shocked. In the past, Clara had never apologized to Rea, especially in front of Ian.

"Oh, there's no need to apologize! I know you didn’t do it on purpose," Rea said with a bright smile and a flicker in her eyes as she expertly smoothed over the awkwardness.

Ian followed behind them. His gaze lingered on Clara’s back with an unreadable expression.

The atmosphere of the celebration was lively. Most of the guests were Ian’s friends. Since they knew Rea was his cherished girlfriend, they were eager to acknowledge her.

Although Clara stood quietly in the corner, oddly enough she did not feel out of place.

As the evening wore on, the guests raised their glasses for a celebratory toast.

Rea remained warm and welcoming. She even pulled Clara to the center with her. With a beaming face and laughter, she actively clinked glasses with others. "Clara, I’m so happy you came to celebrate with us! To be honest, I'm surprised you're able to come."

Clara hesitated as she stared at the clear liquid in her glass because although her body looked intact, her body remained in the condition of her death. Since her internal organs had been shattered in the accident, what kind of excruciating pain might she feel if she drank the wine? So, she just stood there motionless and she was unwilling to raise the wine glass in her hand.

The surrounding guests exchanged awkward glances and their expressions subtly changed.

When he saw the embarrassment in Rea's face, Ian's face turned cold and he looked at Clara with a warning in his eyes.

"Rea offered you a drink and you refuse to accept it?"

The cold voice rang in her ears and it made Clara's whole-body shudder. Finally, she lifted the glass and downed the clear liquid in one gulp.

The burning liquid scorched her throat and an unbearable pain tore through her insides. Her already broken body screamed in agony, her face turning deathly pale. Unable to endure it, she shoved past the crowd and rushed to the restroom.

She barely made it before collapsing in front of the toilet. She violently vomited out every drop she had just swallowed.

When she heard the retching sounds from the toilet, Rea’s face turned pale, her voice carrying a trace of grievance sounded, "Clara … do you hate me that much?"

The moment those words left her lips, Ian's face darkened. He gently patted Rea's hand, his gaze firm as he reassured her, "That’s impossible. No one would hate you."

With that, he turned and strode toward the toilet to check what it was all about.

Inside, Clara clutched the porcelain bowl as her body trembled. Through the haze of pain, she saw something unsettling come out from her. There were streaks of blood mixed with unidentifiable fragments of flesh. Her limbs throbbed with a twisted ache and cold sweat broke out across her forehead.

As a result of drinking the wine, the damage from her death was becoming impossible to hide. Blood seeped through her pant leg and dripped onto the floor.

With great effort, she stood up and adjusted her clothes to smooth out any visible wrinkles. As she stared at the ghostly pale reflection in the mirror, she let out a bitter chuckle.

Should she consider herself lucky? Since her black outfit managed to conceal the blood well enough.

After she composed herself, she opened the door to slip in without the crowd noticing. However, as soon as she looked up, she was met with Ian's piercing gaze.

For a brief moment, she wondered if he was actually worried about her. A trace of hesitation flickered in her eyes before she decided to be honest and told him, "I feel terrible. May I be an excuse to go upstairs to rest?"

She thought it was a simple request, one that needed no explanation.

Unfortunately, Ian’s expression darkened further, his voice laced with anger. "I thought you had finally learned some manners when you apologized earlier for your inappropriate attire. However, in the end, you’re still causing trouble on purpose as you usually did. Did you refuse to drink Rea's toast just to embarrass her?"

Clara froze and the pain in her chest intensified even more. For a second, she couldn’t even tell if it was her broken body or his words that hurt her more. She forced a smile and tried to explain, "I do feel unwell."

"I don’t care if you’re truly sick or just pretending," he cut her off coldly. "Rea offered you a drink. You will finish it."

Without giving her a chance to refuse, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her back toward Rea.

"Clara realized she was being rude earlier, so she came back to apologize with a toast," Ian announced, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Stunned, Clara looked up at him. Her gaze met his sharp, warning gaze.

Swallowing back the bitterness rising in her throat, she turned to the glass in her hand. A faint, resigned smile touched her lips as she slowly brought it to her lips and drank it all down.

The pain exploded in her body like a detonated bomb and scattered her consciousness into pieces.

By the time the banquet ended, she had barely regained her senses.

Once the guests had all left, Rea lingered behind. Ian didn’t even hesitate before he made a declaration, "From now on, Rea will be moving in with me."

Then, he turned to look at Clara, eyes sharp, as if expecting she would make trouble or a fuss.

However, the pain was so overwhelming that Clara did not have any energy left to utter objection or make trouble. She just simply said, "Okay."

She felt she had given the correct answers but Ian frowned and there was confusion in his eyes.

Just then, Rea playfully nudged him and grinned. "Dear Young Master Cumberland, which room am I staying in?" She then blocked Clara from his view.

Ian stunned for a while before chuckling and affectionately tapping her nose. Then, he pulled her into his arms and said, "What do you mean which room? Of course, you’re staying in mine."