Chapter 2

The sterile white walls of the hospital room felt suffocating. The rhythmic beep of the heart monitor was the only sound, a steady counterpoint to the chaotic storm in my mind.

I was back. Eighteen years back in time.

The door creaked open, and a nurse walked in. Not just any nurse. It was Brenda. In my first life, I' d thought of her as a compassionate angel. Now, I saw the greed flickering in her eyes. She was a co-conspirator.

"Susan, you' re awake," she said, her voice full of fake sympathy. "Olivia has been asking for you. She' s... she' s not doing well."

I stared at her, my face a blank mask. I didn't say a word.

Brenda' s smile faltered for a second. "She' s in the next room. She says it' s urgent."

I slowly pushed myself up, my body feeling heavy, weighed down by the memories of a future that hadn't happened yet. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood up. Each step down the hallway was a step back into my worst nightmare.

I pushed open the door to Olivia' s room.

She lay in the bed, looking pale and weak. Her beautiful face was tear-streaked, her hair artfully messy on the pillow. Mark sat beside her, holding her hand, his expression a perfect blend of grief and worry. It was a masterful performance.

"Susan," Olivia whispered, her voice a fragile rasp. "You came."

I stood at the foot of the bed, my arms crossed. I didn't move any closer.

"The doctors... they said there were complications," she said, a tear rolling down her cheek. "I' m not going to make it, Susan. I' m dying."

She gestured weakly to a small bassinet in the corner of the room. "My baby boy. He' ll have no one. My family... they' ll never accept him. You know how my father is."

Mark picked up his cue perfectly. "We' re all alone in this, Susan. Her father disowned her the moment he found out. I... I don' t know what to do." He buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking with silent, rehearsed sobs.

In my first life, this scene had shattered my heart. I had rushed to her side, taken her hand, and promised her I would raise her son as my own. I had wept with them.

This time, I felt nothing but cold, hard clarity.

"Please, Susan," Olivia begged, her eyes wide and pleading. "You' re my only friend. The only one I can trust. Please, promise me you' ll take care of my son. Raise him. Love him. Don' t let him end up in an orphanage."

It was a brilliant trap, preying on my compassion, my loyalty, my love for her.

I let the silence hang in the air for a long moment. I watched the hope in her eyes turn to confusion, then to a flicker of annoyance.

"No," I said.

The word was quiet, but it landed in the room with the force of a bomb.

Olivia' s jaw dropped. Mark lifted his head, his fake tears forgotten.

"What?" Olivia stammered. "What did you say?"

"I said no," I repeated, my voice flat and even. "I will not raise your child."

Mark shot to his feet. "Susan, what is wrong with you? Your best friend is on her deathbed, and you' re saying no? She' s trusting you with her son, her legacy!"

"My legacy is not your responsibility," Olivia chimed in, her voice suddenly stronger. "It' s your duty as my friend! After everything I' ve done for you!"

Everything she had done for me. She meant the handful of times she' d bought me lunch, or the cast-off designer clothes she' d given me. She thought that was the price of my entire life.

I looked at them, at their theatrical display of desperation. I remembered the years I spent scraping by, the smell of cheap paint and turpentine that clung to my clothes because I couldn' t afford a proper studio. I remembered eating instant noodles so Liam could have new shoes. I remembered the loneliness, the quiet ache of a life put on hold.

I remembered standing on that stage, being called a nanny.

"A duty?" I asked, a bitter smile touching my lips. "What duty do I owe you, Olivia? The duty to give up my art? My career? My future? So you and Mark can run off and live your perfect life without the inconvenience of a child?"

Their faces went pale. My words were too close to the truth.

"How can you be so selfish?" Mark spat, his voice laced with venom. "Olivia is dying, and all you can think about is yourself! I knew you were cold, but this is a new low, even for you."

"She' s my best friend," I said, looking straight into Olivia' s eyes. "If she' s truly dying, then all the more reason for you, Mark, the father of her child, to step up and be a parent."

I turned my gaze to him. "Or isn' t he your child, Olivia?"

The question hung in the air, sharp and dangerous.

Olivia' s mask of tragedy finally cracked. A flash of pure fury crossed her face before she replaced it with a wounded look.

"You' re cruel, Susan," she whimpered. "I never knew you could be so heartless."

"You' re the one who taught me," I said softly.

I turned and walked out of the room, leaving them in a stunned silence. The performance was over. And this time, I refused to be part of the cast.