She pinned the blame on me, accusing me of ruining her chance to get rich.
When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day of the accident.
This time, I’m going to let her dig her own grave.
——
The Kramer family’s grandson was undergoing emergency treatment in the operating room.
Julia Reid, my sister, stood by the window, transfusing blood to save the child.
Her delicate face was filled with feigned concern, and her beautiful dress was smeared with blood.
To anyone watching, she looked like a selfless savior, not the mastermind behind the accident.
After the nurse drew her blood, Julia pressed on anxiously:
“Is that enough? If not, take more! I can give as much as needed!”
“The child is so young—you have to save him! Otherwise, I’ll never be at peace for the rest of my life!”
The nurse, impressed by her apparent beauty and kindness, reassured her that the child didn’t need any more blood and that what she’d given was more than sufficient. Julia pretended to be deeply grateful, bowing to thank her.