I won 10 million in the lottery, and my best friend warned me to be cautious of my family.

“Stepmothers always bring ‘stepfathers’! Do you really want to become a doormat for your half-brother?”

I believed her.

In the end, she tampered with my medical records, and I died a slow, agonizing death in a rented apartment.

My father’s hair turned white overnight, while she enjoyed my money, living a carefree life.

Now, given another chance, that treacherous ‘friend’ better stay away from me!

——

“Come on, tell me already – how much did you win? Hello? Speak up!”

I snapped back to reality, staring at the lottery ticket in my trembling hand, the date printed clearly. My fingers shook uncontrollably.

I had been reborn!

“How much did you win?”

On the other end of the line, Maeve Kaur’s voice was starting to sound impatient.

Suppressing the overwhelming excitement rising in my chest, I responded, pretending to be cheerful, “Only two hundred bucks, but still, pretty good, right?”

The moment I said that, she lost interest.

“Only two hundred? Ugh, and here I got all excited for nothing. Well, whatever. Let’s still go out for some pizza tonight.

With that, she hung up, not even waiting for me to finish speaking. She had simply assumed I’d be paying.

This dynamic wasn’t anything new. It had been this way since middle school.

Back then, my parents had split up, and my father spent most of his time working away from home. As a result, I grew up shy and insecure, constantly feeling like I didn’t belong.

Maeve was the only one who showed me any kindness.

At first, she truly seemed like a good friend. But gradually, she began taking things from me – pens I liked, new hairpins I’d bought.

If I showed even a hint of hesitation or reluctance, she’d get upset.

“Aren’t best friends supposed to share everything? If you’re going to be this selfish, I won’t hang out with you anymore! See? Nobody likes you but me. I’m the only one who bothers to be your friend.”

Under her constant emotional manipulation, I would even give her my breakfast and spend most of my allowance on her.

Just one sentence about how I was her best friend, and I would do anything for her.

But who would have thought that this so-called “best friend” would end up killing me?

In my previous life, after winning the lottery, I had rushed to share the news with Maeve.

She had immediately advised me to keep it a secret from everyone, especially my family.

Her reasoning? My father had remarried during my high school years and had another child with his new wife.

Maeve constantly fed me the narrative that stepmothers lead to neglect, and with a stepmother, came a “stepfather” mentality.

If I told them about the money, she warned, they’d take it and spend it on my younger brother.

Since my little brother’s birth, I’d always felt like the outsider, so in my last life, I believed her.

I truly thought Maeve had my best interests at heart.

After cashing in the ticket, I had even sent her a hefty ten grand out of gratitude.

Little did I know that Maeve had darker plans. She altered my medical records, intentionally delaying my treatment.

By the time I realized something was wrong, it was too late. The illness had progressed too far.

It was then that Maeve revealed her true self.

She locked me up in my tiny apartment, refusing to let me contact anyone.

I’ll never forget that day. The pain was unbearable. I was on the floor, pleading with her for just one painkiller. She responded by kicking me aside and cursing at me.

“You’re nothing but a burden. The sooner you die, the better!”

Right in front of me, she transferred all my money into her own account, bit by bit.

That was when I realized that every kind word, every gesture of friendship, had been fake.

I died, but my spirit refused to leave.

I watched as Maeve took my money and lived a carefree life with her boyfriend, while spreading lies about me.

I also saw my father’s hair turn white overnight when he learned of my death.