Revenge After Death

Chapter 500

In the past, I believed that death could inflict pain on those who harmed me. I viewed it as the ultimate retaliation against the organization.

But now, such notions seemed childish. My death wouldn't harm those villains; it would only bring sadness and despair to the ones I loved, repeatedly.

Summoning all my strength, I lifted my hands to hold Steven's face, managing a weak smile. "Long time no see, Steven..." My Steven.

Steven stiffened at my touch, his eyes closing as warm tears landed on my eyelashes.

He was such a crybaby... It was hard to reconcile that with the man who went berserk and lashed out at others.

"I've prayed countless times, hoping that you'll be fine..." Steven whispered softly, his voice trembling.

"I never knew a genius would believe in a higher power too," I joked weakly.

He chuckled. "I don't... but when a heart feels empty, it needs something to lean on, Stephie."

I stared at him blankly, suddenly recalling a faint yet vivid memory buried deep within me.

In that memory, one of my high school classmates, perhaps named Cecile, was diagnosed with cancer.

Despite knowing that there was no higher power in this world, Cecile's grandmother fervently prayed every day for her. Cecile's grandmother, who was in her 60s, even climbed the mountain tirelessly each day, seeking blessings for Cecile's well-being.

My classmates mocked Cecile, deeming her grandmother's actions superstitious and meaningless.

At that time, I couldn't grasp the significance either. Despite Cecile's terminal illness, she remained content each day.

I once asked Cecile, "Do your grandmother's prayers truly make a difference? There are no gods in this world."

Cecile smiled and responded, "My grandmother is my god."

I stood there, stunned by Cecile's words. I was unable to comprehend them fully. Yet now, I finally understand their profound meaning.

Regardless of whether I was truly Stephanie Carlson, the moment Steven and Rachel started treating me as her, it seemed I had become something akin to a deity in their eyes.

Therefore, I felt compelled to keep going, to stay alive until Steven abandoned me.

"Don't be with her. Don't even look at her. Keep your eyes on me and me alone. I'm the embodiment of your love," I declared imperiously, commanding Steven to focus solely on me and to disregard Una completely.

Never did I imagine I'd feel jealous of the face of my past self one day.

"Okay," Steven replied without hesitation, always indulging my unreasonable requests.Còntens bel0ngs to Nô(v)elDr/a/ma.Org

After venting my jealousy, I drifted back into unconsciousness, or perhaps it was more like falling into a deep slumber.

With everything now resolved, I no longer needed to fret or ponder. I could finally drift into a peaceful sleep. It was a welcomed relief.

"Damn it! You goddamn bitch!" I heard someone cursing as I began to stir awake.

It was Eason, known for his colorful language.

"Mind your language. There's a high schooler present," Joel reprimanded Eason.

"Aren't you supposed to be prepping for the college entrance exams? Why are you still here? Go back, you little punk," Eason snapped, clearly in a foul mood. It was likely due to someone rubbing him the wrong way.

As I opened my eyes, I found Joel, towering nearly six feet tall, advancing toward Eason with a sinister smirk on his face.

"If you need to let off steam, do it elsewhere." He grabbed the back of Eason's shirt collar and gave him a firm shove out the door, which he slammed shut behind him with a loud thud.

Joel dusted off his hands as he turned to face Steven, who was sitting by the bed with a brooding expression.

"That was irritating." Steven's eyes were still red, emitting a fierce intensity. He then commanded in a low tone, "You too. Get out."

"Okay," Joel replied compliantly, exiting the ward and closing the door behind him.