After our class reunion, my best friend naturally expected me to play chauffeur and drive everyone home.

I agreed. However, halfway down the road, a limited-edition luxury car slammed into the back of my car.

The owner, who claimed to be a wealthy businessman from overseas, waved off the idea of filing an insurance claim. He said the crash was fate, and with a grand gesture, handed the luxury car over to me on the spot.

From that day on, I drove the million-dollar luxury car every day, until jealousy consumed my best friend. She secretly sabotaged my car, and it ended with my death in a fiery wreck.

My boyfriend turned on me, insisting I had simply fallen asleep at the wheel.

My parents, unable to bear the shock, both died of heart attacks.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the reunion.

"I've got this. I know these roads like the back of my hand. Let me get everyone home safe and sound!"

Carmen Smith's voice cut through the silence, and I jolted awake to find her gripping the car keys, her eyes shining with hope as she scanned the crowd.

That was when it hit me: Carmen had been reborn, too.

She nudged me when I did not respond. "Yvonne, I just figured everyone's exhausted tonight. So, I offered to drive your car. Don't read too much into it."

In my previous life, Carmen had exploited my allergy to alcohol, knowing I could not drink, to convince me to bring my car to the party.

Whenever someone mentioned leaving early to catch the last bus, she would point at me with a sly grin and say, "Why worry? We've got our very own chauffeur: Yvonne!

"She was our class leader once. Now she's here to serve, too. What's the big deal?

"Next time you're in a bind, just call her like I do. She's a sweetheart; she'll never say no."

Back then, I brushed it off as her being blunt, and I truly wanted to help my best friend.

However, now, her words stung with sarcasm.

It took dying once to see she had been treating me like a personal assistant.

I came back to the present and grabbed the keys from her. "The car's mine. If you're really that generous, why not pay for their rides?"

Carmen froze, then played the victim to the crowd. "Oh, so Yvonne just had to drive over today to flaunt her wealth!

"It's just an old car; no need to make a fuss over it."

At her words, everyone turned to stare at me.

"Always putting on airs, even after we've graduated."

"Carmen's the real deal, sticking with you as your bestie all these years."

"Isn't it just a junker? If it's that precious to you, lock it up at home and don't bother taking it out!"

Even my boyfriend, Patrick Gibson, tugged at my arm, pleading, "Come on, Yvonne. Carmen's just trying to be nice, offering everyone a lift home. Cut her some slack."

I stared at him, a wave of anger washing over me.

If I had not been given that second chance at life, I would never have known he had been sneaking around with Carmen.

I jerked my arm away. "Did you forget Carmen's been drinking? If she crashes my car, who's on the hook?"

Silence hung in the air for a few tense seconds as everyone exchanged uneasy glances.

"You know, that's a fair point. Never mind, Carmen. If she's not cool with us using her car, we'll find another way home."

Carmen frantically gestured, saying, "No way! I have to be the one to drive everyone home!

"Chill out, everyone! I barely had a sip!

"Plus, it's way past one in the morning. No cops around to bust us. Trust me."

She grabbed my car keys with a surprising amount of strength.

I knew exactly why she was so insistent.

In my previous life, my car was rear-ended by a luxury car. The driver claimed to be a rich foreigner who did not want to deal with insurance and just handed his car to me.

Did she honestly believe there were people so rich they would hand over a million-dollar car without a second thought?

Since I would not budge, Carmen's eyes were suddenly filled with crocodile tears. "It's so late, and we've got girls here. Taxis are too risky! It's safer in a car with someone we know.

"Yvonne, if you think we're taking advantage of you, I'll cover the gas for everyone," she said, pulling out a handful of greenbacks and thrusting them at me. "Is this enough?"

Patrick grabbed the cash and dropped my keys into Carmen's hand, then started mocking me, saying, "You just have to say yes, alright?

"Carmen's just worried about keeping us safe. I bet you're just green with envy because she's prettier and more likable than you."

I was ready to snap back, but Carmen had already jumped into the driver's seat.

The rest of the gang quickly shoved me into the backseat, groaning, "Come on, I'm about to pass out from exhaustion."

Once we were all in the car, I could barely make out Carmen's hushed, thrilled whisper. "Just you wait. This time, that million-dollar ride is mine!"

I took a deep breath and laughed to myself.

'If you're in such a rush to meet disaster, I'm not stopping you,' I thought.

Carmen hit the road with eyes full of hope, and through the rearview mirror, I could see her eyes glittering with a frightening intensity.

"Carmen, take it easy!" the guy riding shotgun cautioned.

Carmen just giggled. "Relax, I've got mad driving skills!"

I was not sure if it was the excitement or the booze, but we had barely left the parking lot when she whipped the car into a wild turn.

My heart skipped a beat, and before I could get a word out, there was a loud crash.

An electric scooter lay toppled over, and the old lady riding it was sprawled out on the ground.

Chaos broke loose inside the car.

"Carmen, what kind of driving is that?!"

"Can you handle this? Maybe we should let Yvonne drive instead!"

Everyone was talking over each other, blaming her, while Carmen turned ghostly pale, gripping the steering wheel as it shook.

Patrick was freaking out, too. He quickly unbuckled Carmen's seatbelt. "Carmen, get to the back. Now!"

He whispered urgently, his eyes darting around. "When the cops show up, we'll say Yvonne was the one driving."

I stared at him, my eyes wide with disbelief. "You want me to cover for her?"

Patrick stood his ground, his voice filled with conviction. "Carmen's your bestie. What's the big deal in giving her a hand?

"You're sober and insured. What's there to be scared of?"

He pulled Carmen out of the driver's seat. "Carmen, come on. I won't let you get in trouble."

However, Carmen snapped back to reality, checking the time on her watch. She shook her head fiercely, slipped out of Patrick's grip, and rushed to the driver of the scooter. "How much do you want?

"Just tell me. As long as you don't call the cops, I can pay whatever you ask!"

Murmurs spread through our group.

"What's up with Carmen? Settling this privately is going to cost a fortune."

"And what if they demand a ridiculous sum?"

"Carmen, Yvonne's car is insured. Better get back here quick."

Carmen ignored them, her voice urgent. "A number. Give it to me now! I'm pressed for time!"

The old lady got up, unsteady on her feet, eyeing Carmen skeptically. "You're just going to leave? How will I know if I'll end up with complications?"

Carmen pointed at my car. "Worried about complications? Take a photo of my license plate.

"However, I really have an emergency. Just name your price, and I'll pay it."

Patrick, clueless, tugged at her sleeve. "Carmen, have you lost your mind to the booze?"

Carmen pulled Patrick aside and whispered something in his ear. His expression transformed in an instant, and he turned to the lady, then all business. "Carmen's right. The license plate's all you need. If you have any future issues, you can come to us.

"We've got to split now!"

I thought they had lost their minds.

"Hey, that's my ride!"

I whipped out my phone, snagged a quick video, then bailed out of the car. "I'm going to call the cops and the insurance..."

I got cut off mid-sentence when Patrick clamped his hand over my mouth. "No!"

Everyone's eyes were glued to him as he fumbled for words. "Carmen was just trying to be nice, giving us a lift home. We can't rat her out.

"Think about it. If the cops get involved, how will Carmen get her license? What about her rep?"

I had to laugh. What about my reputation?

Before I could get a word in, Patrick was whispering threats. "Yvonne, ditch this clunker tomorrow.

"I'll get you a shiny new one when I'm rolling in dough, okay?"

Carmen yanked him back and gave me an icy smirk. "So, you're saying that I was driving? And you're trying to shake me down?

"Here's a tip: loosen up. There's nothing money can't fix."

At that, the old lady exclaimed excitedly, "Ten thousand dollars!"

Carmen let out a relieved breath and paid 10,000 dollars to the old lady like it was nothing.

The old lady's jaw hit the floor.

Carmen was all chill. "I was bracing for more. It's only 10,000 dollars."

Everyone's jaws joined the old lady's.

"Carmen, since when can you throw around cash like that? I thought your family was tight on money?"

"Right? The old lady looks fine. Just a scratch, tops."

"Are you sure you didn't slip an extra zero in there?"

The old lady gulped, scooped up her scooter, and bolted. "All good here, we'll call it even."

"Just remember: you offered. Don't come running after me later!" Carmen said.

The gang was itching to get going, but Carmen blocked their path with a wave of her hand.

She wore a triumphant grin and whispered with a hint of mystery, "After tonight, I'll be rolling in dough.

"Think of that 10,000 dollars as only cash burned to dodge a bullet. No big deal."

Then, Carmen slid back into the driver's seat, grumbling to herself, saying, "Lucky for me that nosy old hag didn't screw things up. My sweet ride should be showing up any minute now."

Patrick was practically buzzing with excitement, rubbing his hands together, saying, "Awesome, we're going to be filthy rich soon!"

The folks in the back seat paid them no mind, convinced they had lost their marbles.

As predicted, ten minutes later, Carmen pulled up to the spot where my car had been rear-ended in our previous life. Sure enough, a sleek, limited-edition luxury car pulled in right behind us.

Carmen shook with glee at the sight. "That's my ticket!"

She hit the brakes hard.

In a flash, the luxury car smashed into my car.

This time, everyone lost it, pointing at Carmen through their tears, asking, "Why does tonight have to be such a disaster?"

"Seriously! If you can't drive, stop showing off with other people's wheels, will you?"

"Let us out! I'm done with this deathtrap!"

"Carmen, you did that on purpose, didn't you?!"

However, Carmen just let out an icy laugh. "Oh, really? Just remember not to come crawling to me when I'm a millionaire."

She stepped out of the car, feigning confusion as she peered at the trunk. "What in the world..."

The guy from the luxury car scrambled out too, his brow furrowed as he asked, "Why'd you slam on the brakes all of a sudden?"

He looked to be in his thirties, decked out in shiny gold jewelry.

Carmen played the innocent. "Oh, did I? I just didn't notice the crosswalk up ahead and wanted to slow down a bit."

She batted her eyelashes, giving her best puppy-dog eyes.

Patrick could not peel his gaze away from the man's car. "Carmen, you're a miracle worker, seriously..."

While he was talking, he glanced at the car owner, and his voice got all tough. "Look, no matter what, if you rear-end someone, it's totally on you!

"How can you get all up in Carmen's face? So, how do you plan to make this right?"

I chimed in, pretending to panic, "Hey, that's my car, and look at the state it's in now..."

Carmen shot me a fierce look. "Yours? If I'm driving it, it's mine, got it?

"I've been letting you borrow it because we're best friends. I never thought you'd go around acting like it was yours."

With a grin, Patrick said, "Yeah, I can back her up on that.

"I'm Yvonne's boyfriend, and nobody knows better than me that Carmen's just been sparing her feelings by not calling her out."

Everyone started pointing and laughing at me, calling me out for being fake. "Wow, Yvonne really likes to play pretend."

"Seriously? Cruising around in someone else's ride and saying it's yours?"

"That's just mortifying."

Right at that moment, the owner of the luxury car glanced at his phone and paled.

He stumbled over his words to interrupt them, turning to Carmen and saying, "So, you're the car owner?

"Here's the deal: I just got back from abroad, and I'm clueless about the local police and insurance stuff. Plus, we've got more of these cars than we know what to do with at home."

His voice shook a bit. "Since I bumped into you, I might as well just hand over the keys."

As soon as he said that, everyone snapped to attention. "No way! Talk about hitting the jackpot!"

"He'll just hand over a million-dollar luxury car?!"

"Holy smokes, talk about striking it rich!"

Carmen was on the verge of tears, her excitement barely contained, yet she tried to play it cool with a dismissive wave. "No way, this can't be happening..."

The car owner shot me a look. "Then, it's yours."

In a flash, Carmen lunged, clutching the car owner's arm. "Well, if that's the case, I'll take it!

"Let's do the title transfer tomorrow. When's good for you?"

Sweat was beading on the man's forehead as he rattled off a number, "Tomorrow afternoon, three o'clock. I'll be waiting at the motor vehicle office."

With that, he flagged down a cab and bolted.