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.

Turns out my father hadn’t stopped caring about me after all. It was Maeve who had been poisoning our relationship.

She’d manipulated both sides – feeding me lies to make me resent him, while telling him things that made him hesitant to reach out to me.

It was all her doing. Every ounce of my pain, every moment of estrangement, stemmed from her twisted actions.

The hatred I felt in that moment was beyond words.

But now, I had a second chance. A chance to change everything. I had come back to the very day I won the lottery.

After cashing in my winnings, I dialed a familiar number I hadn’t called in years.

“Holly? Why aren’t you saying anything? What’s wrong?

“If something’s happened, don’t worry, I’m here. I’ll be right there – I’ll get a ticket and come see you at school!”

Hearing my father’s voice again brought tears to my eyes.

Maeve had made sure we were estranged for so many years, poisoning my thoughts against him.

I steadied my voice before speaking. “I’m okay, Dad. I just wanted to hear your voice. I miss you.”

I could tell he was holding back tears. “I’ll come visit you right away!”

“No need, Dad. I’ll be home soon for break.”

I had more important matters to take care of first.