In the Next Life

It was New Year's Eve. We were streaming live when my brother called.

I spoke first, "I wish you peace and a happy, long life."

He gave a cold laugh. "Yeah, well, I don't want you to have any of that. I hope you spend the rest of your life in misery."

I'd cut him off the year he was flat broke. Now that he was successful, this was the first thing he did—get back at me.

I kept my tone calm. "I wish you peace and a happy, long life."

He sounded annoyed. "Cut it out. There's no way I'm wishing you well. If I have to say something, then I hope you stay miserable forever."

The host hesitated, then chimed in, "Ben, that was just a recording of Hailey's message. And yes, when she left… she was in a lot of pain and quite miserable, just like you hoped for."

"When she left?" Ben Cooper paused, then let out a cold laugh. "I hope you mean she's dead."

The host hesitated, then gestured toward the screen behind him.

On the giant display behind him, my face appeared.

In the footage, I slapped the camera. Rain soaked my hair and shirt, everything clinging tightly to my skin—I looked a mess. My voice was sharp and impatient. "Stop filming. I don't agree to this."

Right after, a slightly husky voice came through, sincere, "I'm not a scammer, I swear. I'm a vlogger who documents real-life stories. I can help you."

I turned from the trash can and pressed my face closer to the lens. "Really? Can you cure cancer?"

The man was stunned.

I gave a crooked smile and laughed. "Don't waste your time. Try someone else."

"I—I can try!" He reached out and stopped me from walking away.

I gave him a once-over.

Then I laughed—just one short burst—and pointed from top to bottom.

"Shirt: twenty. Belt: sixty. Pants: forty. Shoes: fifty. Oh, and the camera? You got that secondhand, didn't you?" I held up five fingers to the lens. "You know how much my treatment costs? Fifty grand."

He stopped breathing for a moment.

I turned, smiling, and walked back into the rain, bending down in front of trash bins. "Dante? Dante, where are you?"

He caught up. "What are you looking for?"

"A dog."

"Yours?"

"No. I passed out earlier, and he licked me awake. I thought it was a pretty good name."

The man didn't say anything.

I looked up. "If you're not doing anything, don't waste time here. There are plenty of people in the world you can help. Don't waste it on me."

I placed my hand over the lens.

The screen went black.

…

[In the Next Life — Oct. 11, 2023, 9:32 AM — I Don't Need Anyone's Pity]

"You're Hailey Cooper, Ben Cooper's sister, right?"

I was sweeping the back kitchen of a café. I frowned when I heard the voice. "You again?"

His voice came from behind the camera. "People online are saying you betrayed your family, but they don't know you have cancer. I want to film a documentary series about you. Is that okay?"

I shook my head. "Betrayed them? Fine, let it be that. Took me long enough to build this image. Are you here to ruin it?"

"Wait!" He grabbed my arm. "But you don't have a dime right now. How are you going to pay for treatment? Let me help. I still have some savings."

I turned and smiled. "Take a guess. Why do you think I cut ties with Ben?"

He froze.

I pulled my arm back, waved him off. "I've got a job. I don't need your help. Just go."

"I asked around. This job only pays two hundred a month."

"Still don't need it." I turned away and smiled over my shoulder. "I don't need anyone's pity."

The words had barely left my mouth when I suddenly dropped to my knees.

"Hailey!"

The camera shook violently.

On the ground around me, there was a large pool of blood.

"You—!"

William Keen's voice trembled as the camera was tossed aside.

The camera caught a tall man rushing forward, catching me in his arms.