Find Happiness This Time

I gripped the receiver tightly, cold sweat dripping from my temples.

It seemed the world of my second life wasn't exactly identical—perhaps even the kidnappers' location had changed.

My confidence from before began to crumble, replaced by panic. With a trembling voice, I pleaded, "Can you… give me more time? I—"

Before I could finish, the line went dead.

I forced myself to swallow my rising emotions. I knew showing weakness to people like them would get me nowhere. The priority now was to prepare the ransom and pinpoint their location.

Quickly, I jotted down everything I remembered from my previous life.

There were two kidnappers, both young men. The abduction had taken place at one of their homes.

The ransom was a million dollars, to be dropped into the third trash bin at the south entrance of the train station.

Before the kidnappers could retrieve the money, Thomas had located their hideout and captured them. Both my parents and the cash had been safely recovered.

With that in mind, I grabbed my phone and called 911.

Then, I dialed Joseph Homer, one of my father's closest friends and our company's shareholder. "Have accounting pull together as much cash as possible," I urged.

Joseph sounded just as panicked as I felt. "Don't worry, Wendy. I'll handle the money. You call the police!"

Hearing his reassurance eased some of my anxiety.

Two minutes later, officers from the local precinct arrived.

Thomas's colleague and longtime buddy, Steven Kings, walked through the door, his face devoid of any concern.

"Wendy," he said in a curt tone, "Thomas just called me. Luckily, I was nearby…"

He folded his arms, glaring at me with disdain. "You do realize filing a false report is illegal, right?"

In that moment, every ounce of courage and hope I'd managed to muster crumbled to dust.

Thomas had decided I was the mastermind behind the kidnapping. And now, he'd sent his most trusted ally to shut down my "act".

Without police support or the expertise of an investigator, how could I possibly save my parents?

My hands trembled, crumpling the notes I'd written in frustration. The thought of my parents being tortured made me break down in tears.

"Steven," I sobbed, barely able to breathe, "I'm not lying. I'm an adult, and I'm responsible for my actions. I'm begging you. Please, help me save my parents!"

I kept glancing at the clock, fully aware that ten minutes had passed, and I didn't have much time left.

But Steven leaned back casually on the couch, scrolling through his phone, completely unbothered.

"You think crocodile tears are going to guilt-trip me?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "Kids from orphanages are always the sly ones. That's what Thomas said, too. You're not like someone raised in this family."

The disdain in his voice was like a knife. He continued with a smirk, "Lillian's so much more considerate. Always was."

Lillian and I couldn't have had more different fates. She was adopted into the Bells at eight years old, cherished like a precious gem, especially by Thomas. His protectiveness toward her bordered on obsessiveness. Even after they'd grown up, he still coddled her to an unsettling degree, even sleeping in the same bed as her.

The ticking clock yanked me back to reality.

I forced myself to stay calm, swallowing the bitterness that surged in my chest.

"Steven," I said firmly, "you're here. That means you have a duty to respond to the report I filed—"

Before I could finish, Steven cut me off with a scornful laugh.

"Listen to you," he scoffed. "What are you, some spoiled brat pretending to be all noble now? Just because you're back with the Bells, you think you can run the show? To them, you're nothing but an outsider."

His words sent a chill straight through me.

"Thomas told me all about it," he sneered. "Your parents don't even love you that much. They call you Lillian half the time. You've been scheming nonstop for their attention, haven't you? Drove Lillian out of the house, poor thing."

As Steven munched on fruit from the platter, his tone turned almost casual. But every word was a blow.

I knew his insults weren't baseless.

This was the image Thomas had painted of me—over years of subtle comments and outright accusations.

To them, I was nothing more than a conniving nuisance.

But Steven's opinion of me didn't matter. Not now.

"What will it take for you to believe me?" I asked, stepping closer, my voice trembling but resolute. "My parents are in real danger. If we miss the critical window to save them, can you take responsibility for that?"

For a moment, Steven hesitated, his hand freezing mid-motion. Then he stood, looming over me with a sneer.

"Go ahead. Report me if you want. Little brats like you need to be taught a lesson…"

He trailed off as the front door opened, revealing two uniformed officers.

"Is Ms. Wendy here? We're here to respond to the 911 call."

My legs nearly gave out as a wave of relief washed over me.

Finally, my parents had a chance to be saved!