The C mother's eyelids violently flew upward.

She stared blankly straight into my facial features, her expression a chaotic vortex of stark bewilderment, trembling suspicion, sudden realization, and deep confusion.

Immediately following that sequence, her lips began to murmur a series of highly fractured sentences to herself:

"Precisely... the individual who was destined to suffer absolute destruction during a motor vehicle collision was supposed to be Clara, that definition is entirely correct."

"Clara, my precious Clara... mother's soul owes you an absolute eternity of apologies, alongside my precious grand-grandson and grand-granddaughter... grandmother's soul has profoundly failed you all."

"What on earth am I supposed to execute now? My Clara met her physical destruction in that exact fashion, the psychological pain anchoring my chest is completely tearing my soul apart."

"Provided our hands had never executed the total process of welcoming Chloe back into our household, everything would be magnificent... provided we had never welcomed Chloe back, everything would be magnificent."

The C mother was suddenly overcome by an absolute torrent of aging tears, her physical form dissolving into a state of hysterical, uncontrollable weeping.

Sera was violently startled by the sudden explosion:

"Mother, what on earth is catalyzing this psychological collapse? Clara, what on earth were the two of you whispering regarding? My brain flatly fails to comprehend a single syllable of this dialogue."

I projected a minor wave of social embarrassment:

"Regarding that... my mouth was strictly matching her wavelength to toss out random nonsense to keep her company, I hadn't anticipated that the elderly lady's mind would seamlessly latch onto the trajectory of my syllables to continue the narrative; her psychological faculties might truly be experiencing a minor degree of clinical delusion."

46

I could determine with absolute certainty that the mother had indeed recalled some events from our previous lifetime.

However, her mental faculties had also undoubtedly succumbed to a degree of clinical disorientation.

Perhaps it was catalyzed by entirely too many upheavals materializing within their household during this recent block of time.

Regardless of the mechanics.

None of it harbored a single shred of connection to my life anymore.

Past ten o'clock in the evening, right as I had drifted into a hazy, light slumber.

An urgent, frantic torrent of slaps violently vibrated against my bedroom door.

Throwing the threshold open to investigate, I discovered it was Auntie Zhang.

Her facial features were anchored by a mask of sheer panic:

"Clara, execute a rapid run downstairs to evaluate the situation this instant."

My brain was completely bewildered.

"What on earth has transpired?"

"You... the exact millisecond your feet hit the ground downstairs, your eyes will comprehend everything."

I was frantically dragged forward by Auntie Zhang's trembling hands.

The absolute microsecond I crested the final step, my vision locked straight onto Christian, who was standing directly in the center of the living room.

He was draped in standard hospital patient scrubs, thick layers of medical gauze wrapped tightly around his cranium, his facial features heavily swollen, and the fabric anchoring his cuffs and chest area was thoroughly saturated with grim, dark bloodstains.

His overall presentation was exceptionally horrifying.

No wonder Auntie Zhang had been scared completely out of her wits.

Catching sight of my descent, Christian's gaze instantaneously locked onto my physical form.

His facial expression was profoundly dark, his pitch-black pupils overflowing with an intense, suffocating volume of raw sorrow that seemed entirely impossible to dissolve.

"Clara."

He vocalized my designation.

The exact millisecond his lips parted to speak, his eye sockets turned entirely crimson, a raw, piercing torment leaking clearly through his vocal register.

"Would you be willing to return home alongside my person?"

He murmured.

47

Julian descended the staircase bare moments following my path.

Immediately afterward, Uncle J and Auntie J were similarly awoken by the acoustic commotion.

Evaluating Christian's catastrophic presentation, every single individual present practically experienced their jaws dropping to the floorboards in absolute shock.

"Christian, have your mental faculties dissolved into clinical insanity? Provided your soul harbors a desire to embrace physical death, ensure you do zero percentage of that dying within the borders of my household; execute a return to your own residence to die there, would that suffice?"

Julian's brows were tightly knitted together in severe irritation.

Auntie J parted her lips, presumably harboring an intention to articulate a sentence, before silently choosing to clamp her mouth shut.

After all, though Julian's syllables were exceptionally coarse, the underlying logic held absolute validity.

Tracking Christian's current physiological state, provided he wasn't immediately transferred back into the care of medical professionals, it was highly probable his life might truly conclude right here.

It was ultimately Uncle J, who had historically navigated a lifetime of massive high-society storms, who regained his composure within a handful of seconds, turning to issue a calm directive to my position:

"Clara, place a digital call to Sera this instant, and clarify the exact logistical details unfolding here before her ears."

I scrambled to dial Sera's communications link immediately.

"Clara, do you possess an urgent matter? My hands are currently locked in intense tasks here, I lack the temporary window to..."

"Sera, your biological brother is physically standing within my living room."

"What on earth did your lips just articulate?" Her voice came to a sudden, violent halt on the alternative end of the line.

"Christian is right here, direct the medical professionals from the hospital to launch a transit to retrieve his form this exact second."

"Understood, I will materialize at your location immediately."

Disconnecting the digital call.

Christian had already initiated a physical march to close the distance to my form.

His complexion was entirely as pale as pristine paper, his physical frame appearing exceptionally frail and broken.

As though his body would succumb to gravity to collapse onto the floorboards at any random microsecond.

Yet his footsteps remained relentlessly stubborn as he forced his form to arrive directly before my eyes.

Following that movement.

He trained an absolute, despairing, and begging gaze to look straight into my pupils, his vocal register completely hoarse as he floated an inquiry:

"Clara, I am begging your person, would you be willing to depart this location to walk alongside me?"

Discerning that Julian was on the absolute verge of exploding into a physical rage beside us, I preemptively cut into the environment:

"We will migrate our presence into the private study to conduct this dialogue."

"Uncle J, Auntie J, the medical transport from the hospital is already navigating the transit routes to materialize here, your minds possess zero requirement to harbor worry. Migrate upstairs to enjoy your rest ahead of schedule."

Uncle J and Auntie J easily deciphered the reality that my consciousness harbored explicit sentences destined for Christian's ears, offering a quiet nod of agreement while strictly reminding me to monitor his fragile physical condition.

"Julian, return to your private bedroom as well, and secure your sleep early."

Julian, conversely, remained perfectly stationary, his features completely anchored by an intensely resentful, pouting expression.

Unleashing this exact theatrical performance a secondary time.

I was genuinely defeated.

I was left with zero alternative save for deploying a globally recognized legacy ultimatum:

"My hands are actively initializing a count to three. One, two..."

Despite the profound reluctance choking Julian's chest, his feet ultimately initiated a retreat, his head twisting back to track my form three separate times for every single step he executed.

The private study.

In truth, my cognitive architecture possessed a thorough comprehension regarding the underlying mechanics driving this scenario.

Following my intersection alongside the C mother a handful of days ago, my mind had already constructed a degree of psychological preparation targeting this exact category of emergency.

"Your consciousness has successfully recalled the facts, correct?"

Christian stared blankly straight into my facial features.

His shoulders subtly collapsed downward, precisely as though every single ounce of raw physical strength animating his frame had been violently extracted by an invisible vacuum.

"Your eyes have successfully evaluated the reality by now, Christian. In this current lifetime, my legal identity is zero percentage tied to the C lineage, nor did my physical form experience a single moment of maturation within the borders of the C mansion."

"I function strictly as the legally adopted daughter of the J family, sharing an absolute absence of even a microscopic fraction of a connection linking my existence to your household."

"Even provided we evaluate the historical frameworks defining our previous lifetime, though your household shouldered the burden of feeding my form for a block of twelve years, my physical body subsequently functioned as your family's uncompensated, full-time domestic maid for three solid years. Ultimately, the cost I paid to balance the scales was the absolute destruction of my own biological life. Oh, my apologies, that statement lacks precision—it should accurately translate to one single maternal body carrying twin infant souls to a collective destruction."

"Even assuming the volume of structural gratitude my soul owed your household was monumentally massive, every single shred of that debt was thoroughly washed away and paid in full during our previous life. The ledger stands at an absolute zero, completely devoid of mutual balance. In this current lifetime, let us simply grant absolute liberation to each other, and refrain from ever weaving a single thread of connection to link our paths again."