Borrowed Guilt

My words made Wesley tense up. "What are you talking about?

"The police are already here, and you're still denying it?"

I was locked up at the station. A week later, the trial began, and I kept insisting I was innocent. I begged over and over to appeal. However, the police pulled out the footage: the key evidence that sealed my fate.

"The dashcam clearly recorded the entire process of Nevaeh committing the murders."

On the screen was my face, twisted and icy, my eyes filled with something vicious. I was even muttering under my breath, "Anyone who tries to take what's mine deserves to die."

Then, I slammed on the gas. The couple chasing after me dropped to the ground instantly. Blood splattered across the windshield. However, I did not stop. I reversed the car and drove over them again.

Again.

And again.

I only drove away after their bodies were crushed beyond recognition.

As if that was not enough, the car was covered in my fingerprints.

The case was too brutal. Too shocking. The judge had sentenced me to death on the spot.

Even up to the moment of my death, I could not understand one thing: why was it my face in that dashcam footage?

After I died, Wesley publicly announced that he would adopt the baby.

"I'll make up for Nevaeh's mistakes," he said.

My parents collapsed under the weight of public shame and hatred.

Wesley? He was praised across the internet.

Maybe even the heavens thought my death was unjust, so I was given another chance.

A second life.

This time, I would avoid the trap. Find the truth.

At the airport, I quickly met up with my supervisor, Joseph Brooks. We went over contract details during the flight.

That night, we met the client, had dinner together, and checked into the same hotel.

Early the next morning, I suddenly received a notice from the police.

A small part of me held onto hope.

This time, I was not even there. They could not possibly pin it on me again.

However, I was wrong. The police took me in anyway.

Before we even reached the station, a crowd rushed toward us. Every single person was holding something in their hands. Some had sticks. Some had signs. The way they looked at me, it was like they wanted me dead right there.

"It's her! She's the one who killed Mr. Long and his wife and stole their baby!"

"Where's the child? Give the child back!"

The officers quickly stepped in front of me, trying to calm the crowd.

It did not work. There were too many of them. Some people were even holding banners high above their heads.

"If the police don't execute her on the spot, you're protecting a murderer!"

"She crushed their bodies into pulp! Someone like her deserves to die!"

"She's a danger to society! Why haven't you declared her death already?"

"Death is too easy for her! If you won't do anything, hand her over to us!"

Every word they shouted pressed down on the police.

In that moment, I realized something was very, very wrong. "I didn't kill anyone!"

At first, when the police contacted me, I thought they just needed a statement. However, it was clear. This was something else entirely.

The moment I spoke, the crowd erupted. Someone spat at me in disgust.

"Stop pretending! Where's the baby? Hand him over now!"

"You killed them! You should pay for it! Even dying a hundred times wouldn't be enough!"

They moved closer, step by step, their emotions spiraling out of control. Their voices shook the air.

I was trapped in the middle, a chill racing up my spine, my scalp prickling with fear. "How can you prove it was me? I didn't kill anyone!"

As soon as I finished speaking, one of the officers looked at me calmly.

He pulled out his phone and opened the dashcam footage.

I looked. What I saw made my blood run icy.

"Look carefully. That's your face, isn't it, Nevaeh?

"And you're still denying it?"

My whole body trembled. "How is this possible?"