In my last life, if I hadn't gotten there when I did, she would've been paralyzed. I was the one who saved her. Afterward, she'd clutched my hand, tears streaming down her face, thanking me over and over. Every relative in the family praised me for handling things so well.
That lasted exactly three days.
The moment Derek came back, everything changed. He looked at me with a cold, hard stare, anger simmering behind his eyes. And one by one, every single relative who'd sung my praises turned on me.
That was when I understood: none of them were worth saving.
This time around, none of it had anything to do with me.
I was getting ready for bed when the phone rang again.
This time, it was Uncle Harold Dickerson.
I picked up, and his voice hit me before I could even say hello.
"Jennifer, what is wrong with you? Your aunt told me everything—she called you and you refused to come back!"
"I'm telling you right now, get on a plane and get back here!"
"And another thing—I'm taking your aunt to the hospital as we speak. She doesn't have any money. You need to wire some over. Now."
His voice was sharp, laced with barely contained rage.