The one speaking was their uncle—Faron.

That old bastard couldn’t have kids of his own, so he ended up raising his dead brother’s sons. He was the one who brought up Tavian and Jethro.

“Uncle Faron, I’m over 40 now. I’ve spent my whole damn life farming in this backwoods town—who the hell would want me at this point?

“At least Jethro got lucky. He managed to marry our cousin. Me? I got nothing.”

I rolled my eyes.

No wonder their daughter turned out slow.

The next second, I gasped like I had just realized what was happening, my face twisting in fear before bursting into loud sobs.

“Aren’t we getting caramel apples?”

Probably worried my crying would wake the neighbors, Jethro and Melinda crouched down, shushing me and trying to calm me down.

Mabel and Fabienne, two women standing nearby, chimed in.

“Shh, don’t cry, kiddo. If you marry this little girl when you grow up, you’ll get something even sweeter than caramel apples!”

I sniffled, pretending to believe them. “Really?”

They sighed in relief and nodded eagerly.

I pointed at little Gracie, who was drooling all over herself. “But I’m just a kid. How can I marry her?”

They chuckled. “That’s how it works. Boys grow up and get married. If you two are promised to each other now, you’ll grow up together and love each other more. Her whole family will take care of you!”

“Oh.”

I acted like I understood and nodded obediently.

They relaxed and turned back to Jethro and Melinda.

“The boy’s yours now. That truck we came in is too damn noticeable parked at the edge of town. How about you go ahead and settle the rest of that $30,000?”

Jethro nodded and told Melinda to grab the money.

As soon as Mabel and Fabienne got their hands on the cash, they grinned and pulled out a lantern, counting it right there.

The dim light flickered over their faces, and I caught the shift in Tavian’s expression. His eyes locked onto Mabel as he asked,

“You ladies must be tired after all that driving. How about some dinner before you go?”

Faron was about to scold him, but then he glanced over at Fabienne—and his eyes lit up.

That was my cue.

“Uncle, Grandpa,” I piped up, looking between Tavian and Faron. “Do you guys have wives?”

Both shook their heads.

“Perfect!” I grinned. “Then these ladies can marry you!”

Mabel and Fabienne were so stunned they forgot all about their money.

“You little brat! What the hell are you saying?!”

I shrank behind Gracie, looking small and innocent. “But you said all men need a wife. Uncle and Grandpa don’t have one, so… they should marry you!”

Tavian’s face, which had been grim just moments ago, turned bright red with excitement. He put down his whiskey bottle and rubbed his hands together.

Faron was thinking the same thing.

One had never been able to find a wife, the other had been left by his wife when she realized he couldn’t have kids. They’d been lonely for decades. Now, with two women practically handed to them, how could they not be tempted?

Sensing something was off, Mabel and Fabienne stiffened. They hurriedly reached into their pockets for their phones.

Too late. Tavian and Faron pinned them down before they could react.

“Jethro, what do you think?” Tavian smirked. “We keep ‘em, and you don’t have to pay that 30 grand.”

Jethro’s face lit up at the idea of saving money. “Hell, sounds good to me!”

Mabel and Fabienne turned pale. They tried to scream, but dirty socks were stuffed into their mouths before they could make a sound.

They thrashed and kicked, but against three men who had spent their lives working the land, they didn’t stand a chance.

Melinda brought over duct tape, wrapping it around their mouths, then tied them up with rope and tossed them into the shed out back.

That night, the men took off in the women’s truck and sold it in the city for cash.

By sunrise, Mabel and Fabienne had been dragged back—one by Tavian, the other by Faron.

Watching those two human traffickers meet such a miserable end was the most satisfying thing ever.

Not only did Jethro and Melinda get me—a child groom—without spending a single cent, but they also found wives for Tavian and Faron. They wouldn’t stop praising me, calling me smart and saying I was their family’s lucky charm.

Aside from keeping me from leaving the house, they treated me fairly well. I spent my days following Gracie, the town idiot, around, calling her “sister” and playing with her. Ever since she found out I was supposed to be her future husband, she started giving me the chicken drumsticks her parents stewed to make her stronger.

But Mabel and Fabienne weren’t as lucky.

They were tied up almost every day, used and abused by Tavian and Faron. Within six months, Mabel was pregnant.

That only made me feel better. Those two had spent their lives selling people like livestock—now, they got to experience what it was like to be trapped, powerless, and violated.

Gracie might’ve been an idiot, but she was nice to me.

She listened when I talked, and she even convinced Jethro and Melinda to let me go to school with her. She protected me too, refusing to let them order me around like a servant. At first, they resisted, but when she threw a tantrum—crying, screaming, and even refusing to eat—they gave in.

So, they sent me to the town school with her, though they changed my name to Jorren and told everyone I was just some orphan they had taken in.

The whole town believed it.

They saw how well-behaved and smart I was and never suspected a thing. They even praised Jethro and Melinda for being such good people, saying that kindness brings good fortune—after all, their daughter had found herself such a wonderful companion.

I treated Gracie like a real sister, looking after her in every way I could.

Once, she twisted her ankle in the hills behind the town, and I carried her all the way home, walking until my feet were covered in blisters.

That was the moment Jethro and Melinda completely let their guard down. They believed I genuinely cared about their daughter.

And in a way, I did. Not in the way they thought, but because she was kind.

Out of everyone in that house, in both of my lives, she was the only one who had ever treated me with real kindness.

In my last life, she had been the only reason I hadn’t been completely broken by the abuse. Her mind was simple, her world pure—she had no cruelty in her.

Ten years passed in the blink of an eye.

I turned into an adult now, and Gracie was 20.

I knew my real parents and the cope would find me soon.

And my little brother—he’d be switching back into his own body any day now.

So, on the day of my coming-of-age ceremony, I told Jethro and Melinda, “Please arrange a wedding for me and Gracie.”

It was time for their whole family to pay for what they had done to me in my last life!

Rural weddings were always a big event.

They set up a huge tent at the town entrance, and every household pitched in to help.

I put on a sharp and tailored suit while Gracie wore the white wedding gown her parents had picked out for her.

She was glowing with excitement, holding my hand as she beamed up at me.

“Jorren, you look so handsome!”

But when she noticed how distant I was, her smile faded, and she asked anxiously, “You’re not happy?”

I forced a smile and took out a handkerchief, gently wiping the drool from her chin. “Of course, I’m happy.”

Over the years, she had done nothing but treat me well.

But her family deserved to die.

At the party, every household had its own table, which made my plan even easier.

As I went around making toasts with Gracie, I discreetly slipped a slow-acting poison—hidden under my fingernails—into the wine glasses of Jethro, Tavian, and Faron.

I had learned about this particular poison in chemistry class. It was easy to get in farming communities like ours, where every household kept pesticides and fertilizers.

A small dose wouldn’t kill instantly. First, they’d get sick—diarrhea and vomiting.

Two days later, their organs would start shutting down.

And then, they’d die.

They drank with big, dumb smiles, completely unaware.

Within minutes, they started clutching their stomachs in pain.

The party erupted into chaos.

Everyone thought the food had gone bad and scrambled to call an ambulance.

But the mountain road was too damn remote—an ambulance from the county would take at least two or three hours to get here.

A few of us got dragged back inside, but before long, everyone else rushed out to the backyard, freaking out.

By the time Jethro ran back there for the fifth time, something finally clicked in his head.

“Why is it just a few of us feeling like this? How come no one else is sick?”

His eyes darkened as he stared at me for a long moment. Then he turned to Gracie.

“Watch him. Don’t let him run!”

Gracie didn’t get what was going on, but she just nodded.

The next second, I pulled out the knife hidden in my suit and pressed it against her throat.

“If you don’t want her dead, let me go!”

I snapped, my voice sharp with fury. Jethro and Melinda went pale.

The townsfolk, caught off guard by the sudden turn of events, started asking what the hell was happening.

I raised my voice, yelling that I’d been kidnapped and brought here 10 years ago. The crowd fell into stunned silence.

Jethro and Melinda scrambled to cover their asses.

“He’s lying!” Melinda sobbed. “If he was really trafficked, why didn’t he say anything all these years?”

“Don’t let him fool you! He’s just throwing a tantrum because he doesn’t want to marry Gracie! We had no idea he’d be so mad like this!”

She just shed some tears, and the townfolks bought it.

They turned on me, pissed that I was making a scene. “If you didn’t want to get married, why didn’t you say so earlier?”

“And now you’re throwing accusations at Jethro’s family? What an ungrateful bastard!”

I hadn’t said anything before because I couldn’t risk my brother getting suspicious.

Everything had to play out the same way it did in my last life.

Only then would my brother stay clueless. Only then could we switch bodies back.

And sure enough, a police siren blared from the town entrance.

‘I knew it! Mom and Dad had brought the cops to find me!’

At that moment, I turned the knife toward Tavian and Faron, who were stumbling back from the backyard, clutching their stomachs.

“They’ve got trafficked women locked up in their houses! Go check if you don’t believe me!”

The townfolks erupted in chaos.

Someone muttered that nine years ago, Tavian had suddenly shown up with a baby, claiming he found it while herding sheep.

Someone else said they’d heard Faron beating a woman in the middle of the night. When asked, he’d just laughed it off as the TV.

The more they thought about it, the more my words started making sense.

One after another, they rushed toward their houses.

Realizing they were about to be exposed, Tavian and Faron lost it. They didn’t give a damn about Gracie anymore—they came straight for me, fists flying.

I never actually planned to hurt her, so I let them knock the knife from my hands.

They kicked me to the ground. Tavian grabbed a shovel nearby and brought it down on me with full force.

“No!”

Gracie screamed, but Jethro and Melinda held her back.

I felt something warm trickle down my forehead, and my ears rang.

‘These bastards are really gonna kill me!’

I curled up, shielding my head as Tavian and Faron stomped and punched me.

Then, a sharp, commanding voice rang out from the doorway.

“Police! Drop your weapons!”

I finally exhaled in relief, but then everything faded to black.

When I opened my eyes again, two days had passed.

Just like in my last life, I was lying in a hospital bed.

My head was wrapped in thick bandages, an IV drip in my hand.

Mom and Dad sat beside me, their eyes red and teary. Behind them, my brother stood, smirking.

As soon as I woke up, Mom threw herself onto me, sobbing.

“My baby, you’ve suffered so much! We searched for you for years, and we finally found you!”

Dad’s voice was thick with emotion. “We’re gonna make this right. We swear.”

My brother, standing behind them, curled his lips into a slow, twisted smile.

Then, his voice echoed in my mind.

‘System, use the last chance. Switch me and Deacon back!’

Everything went black, and I passed out again.

The pain vanished, and in a blink, my surroundings shifted.

I was back in my own body.

On the hospital bed, my little brother was clinging to Mom, sobbing.

“Mom! Dad! It was my brother’s fault I got kidnapped!”

His voice suddenly sharpened, and he pointed at me, his eyes full of hatred.

“What?!”

My parents spun around, their voices filled with rage. “Deacon! What the hell is going on?!”

Panic shot through me. I shook my head frantically, my face pale with fear, tears already spilling over.

“How could I ever hurt him? Mom! Dad! You have to believe me!”

In the middle of the chaos, the hospital door swung open.

A uniformed officer walked in, his face serious as he addressed my parents.

“Ma’am, Sir, we’ve uncovered the truth about Jorren’s kidnapping all those years ago.

“He’s being investigated for human trafficking and attempted poisoning. We need him to come and cooperate with us.”

The smug look on Jorren’s face disappeared in an instant. His eyes went wide, and he let out a sharp scream.

“No way! What the hell are you talking about?!