Rebirth Into My Second Chance

In the end, I didn't wait for Richard. It felt like my spirit had finally broken.

I believed I was depressed. I should have taken those antidepressants when I had the chance to prevent my soul from becoming this twisted.Content is property of NôvelDrama.Org.

Walking down the street amidst the rush of cars and people, I stood outside Haven of Hope Orphanage, where memories of laughter and joy once flourished.

I pondered, 'Were those girls, charred beyond recognition, from Haven of Hope Orphanage? Who could be so cruel to them?'

I returned to my apartment to find the seeds Richard planted for me sprouted, a sign of new beginnings. Yet, my new beginning was as fragile as that tiny sprout, snuffed out at any time.

I pulled out a bottle of sleeping pills. I thought about taking them to escape into sleep, but then I decided against it. The turmoil within was mine alone to understand.

Knock. Knock. Richard was outside, ringing the doorbell and knocking frantically. "Claire, open up. Don't scare me like this."

I tucked the sleeping pills away and opened the door, greeting him with indifference. "I'm fine. What's all the fuss about?"

Richard pulled me into a hug. "Did I upset you when I said I didn't believe in your rebirth? I've thought it over, and I do believe you."

I didn't hug him back because I knew his belief was to prevent me from doing something foolish.

"Richard, how can someone be reborn after they die?" I challenged.

Richard said, "Rebirth is possible, especially if she died with regrets."

"I was just rambling. Come in. The seeds have sprouted." I decided not to dwell on the topic further and showed him the sprouts as if I had resolved.

The killer seems to target pregnant women after being adopted from the orphanage. What if I...

"What are you thinking about?" Richard seemed to notice my distant gaze and tapped my head gently.

"Nothing. Do you want a drink?" I grabbed a bottle of red wine, intending to share it with Richard, but he immediately covered his head. No, Max warned me not tỏ drink with you. If you're okayd should go."

He left swiftly.

So, I opened the wine myself, contemplating how to get pregnant.

I rang Max's doorbell with two wine glasses and the bottle.

He answered, fresh from a shower, wearing a robe and drying his hair with a towel.

"Not mad anymore?" Max's tone was light, but he frowned upon seeing the wine. "What's up?"

I smiled. "I'm looking for someone to have a drink with. Since you've forbidden Richard from drinking with me, you'll have to do it."

He stepped aside, and I walked in as the door closed.

Sitting on the couch, I couldn't help

but notice the healthy tan of his chest visible through the slightly open robe. For some reason, I felt no attraction to him, even repulsed. After all, he was protecting a murderer.

But risking myself was the only way to prove my theory. If I got pregnant, Tracey would target me, providing the evidence everyone needed to believe Tracey was the culprit.

I poured two glasses of wine and handed one to Max, who had changed into fresh clothes. "Drink with me as an apology for protecting Tracey today."

Max took the glass, his lips barely parting. "Claire, I'm not protecting Tracey."

I wasn't there to hear his explanations. I wouldn't believe him anyway. Nor would I ask him for help in gathering evidence or for protection.