The prison was dark, with only a small window casting a faint glimmer of light. In the interplay of shadow and light, a broken bowl stained with blood stood out in this grim place. Emma Fanning huddled against the wall, her gaze fixed on that vivid red for a long time.
She'd been convicted of killing Mrs. Green and her daughter, Anna Green, with her car. His mother and sister. So, he'd personally sent her to prison. That cold and heartless man, her husband, John Green.
For years after their marriage, he'd never trusted her. After the accident, he was convinced that she was responsible for everything. Emma didn't understand his obsession, but she wouldn't admit to a crime she didn’t commit. He had her locked away in this hellhole for an entire year. During that year, she endured various forms of torture every night. Different people, different methods, all aimed at her. Prisons are never short of inmates who delight in tormenting others.
There wasn't a single inch of Emma's body left unscathed. Every movement caused pain to shoot through her entire body, a numbing, agonizing pain. After a year of inhumane treatment, she knew who she had to thank for this ‘favor.’ A few days ago, she finally saw him. She didn't ask if those people were under his orders because his answer would only make her feel colder inside.
Unexpectedly, his ruthlessness knew no bounds. With just one sentence, he plunged her into the abyss. He said — "Why aren’t you dead yet?"
Why aren’t you dead yet…
Emma vividly remembers his expression at that moment — icy and indifferent, uttering the cruelest words in the world with the utmost grace. Yes, why isn’t she dead? He had someone “take care” of her for a year; how could she possibly hold on? Emma let out a laugh so bitter that it hurt her chest. Years of marriage were revealed to be nothing more than a cruel joke.
Emma couldn't endure it any longer. She sliced her wrists with the shards, and the dark red blood stained her world...
…
When she opened her eyes again, Emma found herself lying in bed staring at the familiar blue ceiling. It was incredible but true; she had been reborn five years ago. Emma suppressed the complicated emotions surging within her and remained calm and composed.
The calendar displayed June 2nd, a date etched deeply in her memory. Everything related to John Green was unforgettable. Today was the day they first met at an evening banquet. That banquet marked the beginning of their relationship and the start of all her suffering.
In her previous life, he married her. She knew he neither loved nor wanted her, yet she went through with the wedding, clinging to a sliver of hope. Later, he stayed away and she turned a blind eye, even when he was with Amy, her own sister. She never exposed them. But in the end, what was her fate? No, she wouldn't allow such a thing to happen again.
Tonight, she would avoid the banquet and keep her distance from him, letting him and Amy be together. At that moment, a knock echoed from outside the door. Emma's body trembled slightly. After composing herself, she got out of bed to open the door. Outside stood Amy.
The girl wore a pale pink long dress with a belt cinching her waist, her delicate makeup perfectly done, and her long hair swept behind her ear. She called out sweetly and crisply, "Sister."
If it weren’t for what happened in her past life, Emma would never believe that her adorable and well-behaved sister could turn so malicious.
"Dad is waiting for us. Have you changed your clothes yet?"
Emma looked at the person in front of her, smirked, and said, "I’m not feeling well. I won’t be attending tonight." A ray of light swiftly flashed across Amy's eyes. She pretended to look at Emma with pity.
"Ah? What a pity."
What a pity, indeed.
Tonight's banquet was where the president of Green Corporation would make an appearance. After the death of Green Corporation's chairman, his eldest son, John, took over. Tonight, the new president officially met everyone at the banquet at the Green residence. The Fanning household was on the guest list. If Emma didn’t go, then tonight Amy’s chances of success would certainly improve.
Amy's scheming expression made Emma feel irritated. She casually smiled and said, "You perform well." Regardless of whether Amy responded, Emma closed her room's door. To Amy, Emma's attitude today was certainly different. But Amy, secretly celebrating, didn’t notice the change. A few minutes later, she cheerfully went downstairs and left with their father.
Meanwhile, Emma went to her desk and stared at the easel. Painting was her hobby and dream, but to be with John and become his wife, she gave it up and abandoned her dream of becoming a painter. How foolish she had been.
This time, she and John would be strangers. She would pick up the paintbrush again and carve out her own path. Sitting before the sketch pad, Emma picked up the paintbrush. Her hand trembled uncontrollably. Her breathing grew increasingly rapid. Scenes from her time in jail continually played in her mind. Her hand was held down. A sharp, icy sensation stabbed into her fingertips. That heart-wrenching, bone-chilling pain. It was lingering and clear.
Emma jerked her hand back abruptly. The paintbrush clattered to the ground. She closed her eyes tightly. Her hand hung by her side, clenched in a fist. She had to overcome this fear. Otherwise, what would be the point of starting over?
