Once Lilith understood the reality of her world, she gave up completely. What else was there to care about now that she was dead? She wasn’t concerned with spiritual peace; her body had already deteriorated beyond recognition. Her soul drifted upward, rising higher and higher as she floated away from her lifeless body below, which gradually became a tiny, irregular red speck. She couldn’t help but think that, at least, she had lived a decent and honest life. If she was going anywhere, heaven seemed like the best place. It didn’t seem too bad after all. As she drifted in thought, a sudden, intense flash of light shocked her, as if an explosion had occurred. It was so bright that it nearly overwhelmed her. A sharp pain shot through her. Wait … Can the dead actually feel pain? After a moment of dizziness, Lilith opened her eyes once more. The warmth of the sun greeted her, gentle and comforting. She could smell the faint scent of flowers in the air, and she heard soft footsteps and murmurs, as if voices were calling to her. Taking in a deep breath of the crisp air, Lilith looked down. She was holding the same DNA test report from before, the one showing a 99% match, confirming the familial connection between the person tested and the tester. Her hand instinctively pressed against her chest. Her heartbeat was steady, strong, and she could feel the rhythm in her body. Her limbs were intact, and the sun shone just as brightly as it always had, spreading its light evenly over everyone. But then, Lilith’s palm suddenly became damp with cold sweat. Wait … Is this some kind of joke? Have I been reincarnated? Somehow, she had returned to that moment when she was 15, sitting alone outside the hospital, still holding the same DNA report. This has to be a dream, a hallucination as my soul is fading. It can’t be real. She reached out and pinched her arm, hoping to wake up from the fantasy. Ouch! That hurts! She couldn’t believe it, so she pinched herself again. Sure enough, a deep, red mark appeared on her arm—real pain, undeniable and real. When Lilith finally returned home, she rushed to the bathroom, splashing cold water on her face. As she stared into the mirror, her reflection seemed perfectly ordinary, but then she remembered the horrible state she had been in after the car accident. She blinked, confused by what she was seeing. It was clear now: Characters like her were never meant to play a big part in the story. They were never meant to have much focus, and their lives were often short-lived. But if I was just a minor character, why have I been given a second chance? This wasn’t some lighthearted story where she could suddenly turn everything around—slap people in the face one by one, make them respect her, climb to the top effortlessly, and dominate the world. She didn’t have that kind of power, and it wasn’t part of her script. Leaning against the bathroom counter, Lilith wiped the damp strands of hair from her forehead. Her eyes, filled with confusion and uncertainty, stared back at her in the mirror. She sighed deeply, feeling completely overwhelmed. Fine. Since I’m already here, I might as well adjust. Lilith sank onto her large, soft bed, burying her face in the pillow. This time, unlike before, she didn’t curl up and cry in despair. Her mindset had shifted, just slightly, but enough to make a difference. She realized that from the very beginning, she had been focusing on all the wrong things. In this world, she was just an extra, a background character—or more specifically, the least important member of her own family. As a mere bystander, she had no right to compete for attention or affection, which were clearly reserved for the main characters. Their love was never meant for her. Her existence had always been secondary, almost a footnote in the grand narrative of fate. Her privileged birth into such an extravagant family was never about her—it was merely meant to highlight the importance of the main characters, not her own significance. Now that she had been given a second chance, there was no reason to live as she had before—chasing after dreams and desires that could never be hers. Dreams like receiving the parental love Adrian and Catiana shared, the close bond she once imagined having with her siblings, or the romance that was snuffed out before it even had a chance to blossom. With this understanding, Lilith lifted her face from the pillow and turned over, staring blankly at the elaborate patterns on the ceiling. After a moment, she suddenly sat up with renewed energy, drew the curtains apart, and flung open the window. Sunlight streamed in, and a gentle breeze swept through the room, bathing everything in its light. Below in the garden, four figures moved about as they always had. Alexis and Garrick were feeding the fish in the pond. Hadden was explaining some difficult physics problems to Winona. None of it had anything to do with her. Lilith remembered how, in her previous life, she would hide behind thick blackout curtains, silently watching their moments of happiness. She’d cry quietly, feeling the sting of being excluded from their joy. Now, she rested her elbows on the windowsill, her eyes following the koi and goldfish darting around in the pond, the colorful flowers blooming in vibrant displays, and the green leaves gently swaying in the breeze. The warmth of the sunlight brushed her face, soothing her. She tilted her head slightly, catching sight of a jacaranda tree in full bloom, its purple flowers glowing in the sunlight. Maybe she stared a bit too long because Hadden soon seemed to notice her gaze. He looked up, and their eyes met. A moment later, Winona followed his line of sight, but they quickly returned their focus to their conversation, as if nothing had happened. Their gaze was empty, as if she were no more than a passing stranger or an insignificant object—like a discarded toy or an old piece of clothing. She had grown accustomed to such looks, so familiar with them that they no longer caused her pain. In the past, she would have instinctively looked away, feeling a vague sense of shame—as though it were wrong to yearn for something she could never have. But now, Lilith didn’t look away. She kept her eyes on them, indifferent, until her thoughts wandered. Eventually, she yawned, stretched out on the plush carpet, and drifted off to sleep. When she awoke, the sky outside had turned a warm shade of orange from the setting sun. She stretched her stiff shoulders and neck before closing the window. Although it was nearly May, the evening air still carried a chill. She made her way down the long hallway, passing through the grand main hall and entering the dining room. After navigating a series of formal steps, she sat down at the far end of the long dining table. She was isolated, seated alone at one end, while the others gathered near the center. Surprisingly, Adrian and Catiana were there tonight. It was rare for them to join family dinners, usually attending only a few times a month. The family had long since accepted this arrangement. Lilith quietly cut into her steak, savoring the rhythmic scrape of her knife against the plate. Suddenly, Adrian’s voice broke the silence, cold and commanding. “Lilith, you won’t be joining us at the main table anymore.” His tone remained casual but final. “It’s too much trouble to come from the side villa. There are chefs and staff there. You’ll be eating there from now on.” Lilith continued her meal calmly, taking a bite of her steak, chewing slowly. She nodded slightly, as if nothing had happened, her gaze flicking briefly to Adrian before returning to her plate. The others continued eating without comment, not sparing her a single glance. Adrian’s voice came again, more insistent this time, as if making sure she understood. “Did you hear me?” “Yes,” Lilith replied softly, her voice unbothered.