Prologue
In July 2025, as night draped over the city, numerous people slipped into their dreams, enveloped in their own thoughts. Yet within this tranquil nocturnal setting, a variety of desires wandered freely, unrestrained by the societal norms. I found myself rushing up the stairs urgently.
In contrast to the luxurious carpets in the hallway and the grandeur of the lobby’s crystal chandelier, the staircase displayed a simplicity that hinted at its often-overlooked function. Usually abandoned except in emergencies, it served as a humble passage for those who rarely used its steps.
The dim light in the stairwell cast a shadow over my flushed face as I ascended with determination.
The elevator provided no refuge for me.
Below, within its confines, lay a trap set by someone. Entering its inviting doors would mean willingly stepping into danger.
My high heels betrayed me, causing me to stumble and twist my ankle. With clenched teeth, I removed my shoes and continued barefoot. Two floors up, the ominous sound of approaching footsteps broke the silence, indicating the looming threat from below.
I clasped my hands together, praying to God for protection, hoping that the approaching danger would remain unaware of my presence.
Unfortunately, it seemed my prayers were destined to go unanswered, as the group I feared appeared just moments later. They knew where I was but hesitated to begin an immediate search.
Effectively blocking the only exit, they patiently waited for their leader to arrive.
Before long, he entered – opting for the elevator, ascending to the top floor before addressing me.
“Genevieve Brown, reveal yourself! I know you’re hiding!” he jeered, his laughter reverberating in the area.
Understanding his trickery, I held my breath and subtly twisted my body, shrinking back. A cold sensation brushed against my foot, prompting me to glance down and find a steel rod within arm’s reach on the ground. Silently, I grabbed the rod tightly.
Remaining hidden, I listened as the familiar voice instructed his men to scatter and search for me. With no safe haven in sight, I knew it wouldn’t be long before they uncovered my hiding spot.
Meanwhile, the man remained composed, his calm words testing my resolve: “Think about it, who are you really protecting yourself for? Vincent? Tut-tut, didn’t he explicitly state that no one was allowed to harm you? Where is he now?”
Vincent’s name echoed in my mind once again.
Vincent, who had pursued me relentlessly for months, had mysteriously disappeared from school a few months earlier.
I used to believe that it had nothing to do with me. I had no connection to Vincent, despite the rumors.
But now, I realize I was too naive. The moment Vincent vanished; someone wasted no time targeting me.
“I’m telling you; I don’t care about you and Vincent. Just cooperate, and I’ll spare you. Come out now, don’t be stubborn,” he demanded. “You slept with Vincent, so why not be with me too?”
“F*ck you! You’re the one slept with him!” I spat out in frustration, gritting my teeth.
As I walked past the school hallways, girls whispered and gasped quietly, giving me disdainful looks.
Boys’ eyes purposefully or unintentionally scanned my body, focusing on my chest, waist, and hips. They murmured to each other, occasionally bursting into laughter while stealing glances at me.
Unless one experiences it firsthand, it’s impossible to grasp the destructive impact of rumors.
My classmates dismiss it all as mere gossip, unaware of the harm it inflicts. However, some take these rumors seriously, using them as a pretext to mistreat me, just like the man who had just confronted me.
As he approached, his voice cut through the air, dripping with disdainful mockery. “I knew you couldn’t resist. Who do you think you’re fooling? Everyone knows you’re a promiscuous beauty, charging five thousand dollars a night. How about ten thousand? Or even twenty thousand? Come with me.”
The closeness of his voice quickened my heartbeat, prompting me to hold my breath and tightly grip the steel rod.
Just as he finished speaking, I glimpsed his shoe, then his face. With each step closer, his gaze naturally fell on me standing there.
“In...” He began to summon someone, but his words faltered.
“I’ll give you a million dollars!”
Naturally, I didn’t possess a million dollars. All I had was the steel rod, which I wielded with all my might.
Before he could say another word, the steel rod struck the bridge of his nose, splattering blood around, even staining my own face.
A scream escaped his lips as he stumbled backward, collapsing to the ground.
I leaped away from him, rushing towards the stairway. However, his guards heard the noise and approached from other side.
Swinging the steel rod, I aimed for another strike, but one of the guards intervened, absorbing the blow with his arm. With determined resolve, he seized the rod with his free hand while another attacker forced me to the ground.
In the midst of the struggle, my hand brushed against a steel bar. Without hesitation, I turned and delivered a forceful slap to the bodyguard restraining me. The impact caused the other person to groan, loosening their grip on me.
Seizing the opportunity, I broke free from their hold.
However, freedom was short-lived as I found myself cornered with no means of escape. In a moment of desperation, I made a quick decision and leaped onto the building’s edge.
“DON’T COME ANY CLOSER! STAY BACK!!” I yelled hoarsely, fear trembling in my voice.
Despite the fear coursing through me, I remained defiant. Armed only with a short steel bar and faced with a thirty-story drop behind me, I could only hope for a sudden change of heart from the monster in front of me.
But deep down, I knew it was an impossible hope.
This monster, supported by his guards, his face smeared with blood, glared at me with intensity.
Feeling the sharp pain in his nose and suspecting a broken nasal bone, he cursed angrily. “Stay put, you b**ch!” he spat, giving commands. “Drag her back down!”
As the men advanced, I instinctively retreated. With each step backward, my heart raced, until I stepped onto empty space, plunging into the darkness below.
They say falling to one’s death is the most dreadful way to die. For the one falling, time seems to stretch endlessly, filled with terror.
I didn’t know how others experienced it, but for me, it felt like an eternity. I didn’t want to die, not at all. Life had been a constant struggle, and I had fought so hard to survive. How could I possibly wish for death?
What would become of my mother if I perished?
I couldn’t fathom the cruelty of people. I thought Vincent was bad, but these monsters were even worse!
How could someone, still a student like me, a peer from the same college, become so heartless?
Fear, resistance, and anger overwhelmed me as I plummeted to my death.
As my spirit departed from my body, I helplessly observed my attackers hastily fleeing.
The authorities arrived, recovering my lifeless body and launching an investigation. I hoped for justice, but it was never attained.
Suddenly, “witnesses” appeared out of nowhere, alleging that I had argued with a client over money that night and faced criticism. They insinuated that I had chosen to end my own life because of it.
In the end, it was ruled a suicide.
As news of my death spread throughout the school, a new wave of rumors surfaced.
“Absolutely disgraceful, a girl working in such a place. I heard it’s involved in questionable activities!” one voice condemned.
“I heard she had a dispute with a customer over money,” another added.
“What? Do you know what really happened?”
“I heard... it was prostitution.”
“And did you hear? Five thousand dollars for one night, starting with Vincent...”
The speaker sounded authoritative, as if they possessed firsthand information. The listeners, shocked yet curious, bombarded with questions and adding to the gossip.
Words possessed power, drawing me into their conversations despite my physical absence. In the days following my death, the school was abuzz with discussions about me. I felt like a puppet, manipulated and dragged by their words.
Even my mom called out for me. “Evie, Evie, why haven’t you returned?” she whispered.
Confined within the house, she consumed whatever food was left, eventually resorting to banging on the door due to hunger. “Evie, Mamma’s hungry...”
I felt powerless and frantic. Fortunately, a neighbor heard my mother’s cries and alerted the authorities. They broke down the door, rescuing her from starvation.
The police discovered she suffered from dementia, making her care quite challenging. It was then that a young man arrived and took my mom away.
He was Vincent Knight, the wealthy student from the neighboring college, the sole heir of a multi-billion-dollar corporation, whose name had been linked with mine in rumors of intimacy.
He placed my mom in a specialized nursing home for dementia patients, all while under my observation.
My mom often mentioned my name, allowing me to stay by her side and provide her with companionship. I lived this way for an uncertain period until one day, I was unexpectedly called elsewhere.
In an instant, my spirit found itself in a place I would never forget in my next life – the very spot where I met my end.
In the pitch-black night, I witnessed the sight of the man who had taken my life, pinned to the ground with his arms severed. Vincent’s eyes blazed with anger as he wielded a steel rod – whether it was the same one from before, I couldn’t determine – and ruthlessly attacked the man.
I remained unaware of the grudge Vincent held against this monster, yet I found comfort in the agonized screams that echoed through the night.
With calculated brutality, Vincent broke the man’s leg, shattered his ribs, and ultimately bent the steel rod.
With a loud clang, he dropped the steel rod to the ground, wiping his bloody nose with his hands. Bathed in the glow of neon lights amidst the darkness, he resembled a demonic figure.
Waving his hand, he signaled for his men to release their grip on the individual. Bending down, he grabbed the person’s collar from behind and forcefully dragged him towards the edge of the building.
It was a chilling realization – he had deliberately chosen this spot, the very same location where I had tragically perished.
As he lifted the person up, their desperate screams pierced the night air. “Vincent! Let me go! Please!”
“She pleaded for mercy too, didn’t she?” Vincent’s voice oozed with contempt. “Did you offer her that privilege?”
The person’s tone changed, desperation creeping into their words. “This is murder! You’re committing murder!”
Vincent sneered, his disdain palpable. “Aren’t that how debts are settled? With blood?”
“Are you scared? Did you ever think about her fear when you brought her to this place?” he interrogated, his voice devoid of empathy, as cold as ice.
“It wasn’t me! She fell on her own!” The person’s frantic protests were ignored as they struggled against their captor’s hold.
For a moment, Vincent fell silent, a chilling laughter reverberating through the darkness.
“You’re just like her,” he remarked, his voice dripping with scorn.
With a sudden burst of strength, he lifted the person and flung them outward into the void...
I covered my eyes, unable to bear witness to the horrifying scene unfolding before me.
A loud thud echoed from below, followed by a startled cry.
When I dared to open my eyes again, the person had vanished, leaving only Vincent standing in the shadows of the night.
He lingered in the darkness, his brow furrowed by the night breeze. His eyes, deep pools of darkness, drew me in, captivating my attention.
Why did he take such action?
Who was he seeking vengeance for?
The answer lingered in my heart, on the brink of being spoken.
“Quickly, let’s leave,” his companion urgently whispered, the commotion downstairs growing louder by the moment.
Vincent paused briefly, then turned and followed them away.
They pushed open the door to the stairwell, entering one by one, with Vincent bringing up the rear.
As he stepped into the stairwell, he suddenly reached back to hold the door.
I had been trailing behind him, but now I felt rooted in place, standing directly in front of him.
I knew Vincent’s gaze was fixed on the empty, disheveled rooftop. Yet, in that moment, our eyes locked.
It seemed as though he was looking right at me.
His lips parted slightly; his voice barely audible yet instantly widening my eyes.
“I have sought vengeance for you,” he softly murmured. “Eve.”
His words hung in the air like a gentle breeze.
Releasing his grip, he entered the stairwell, and the door slammed shut with a loud clang.
I felt as though I had been struck by lightning, the thunderous sound echoing through my being. A strong force seemed to pull me into an unseen vortex of time.
Within this whirlpool, time distorted and images flashed like fragments of a dream.
I saw him being thrown into prison.
A well-dressed visitor appeared, sneered at him. “What dispute with Smith’s led you to murder him? Fortunately for us, your insanity provided us with the advantage we needed, or you might have turned the tables. Was it all worth it, for a girl?”
He regarded the visitor with indifference.
I glimpsed at the visitor’s companion, a middle-aged man silently observing him.
“Perhaps our paths are not meant to cross in this lifetime,” the middle-aged man sighed.
Vincent sneered; his eyes filled with disdain.
I observed him sleeping on a cold prison cot, murmuring in his sleep, “Eve, my love...”
I reached out to touch him, but my hand passed through him as if he were a specter.
Finally, the day of his execution arrived.
He stood beneath the bright, blue sky, looking upward. His fleeting existence was nearing its end.
I “held” him.
“If there’s another life...” tears streamed down my face, “...you and I...”
Can we prevent such a dreadful outcome?
A bullet flew through the air, penetrating my spiritual essence and hitting his heart.
The whirlpool of time roared like a tsunami, shredding the images and tearing me apart in the process.
I dreaded being torn apart, but when I reopened my eyes, I discovered myself back in my freshman year of college.
Nothing had started yet.
