Chapter 4

I dispatched all the prepared video recordings to my sibling, who was informed about my medical condition and fully cognizant of my intentions.

Our household lacked affection. Influenced by our father's upbringing, my brother had always harbored resentment towards me, holding me responsible for our mother's passing during my birth.

"Kendra, your illness is retribution. You should have forfeited your life for my mother years ago."

That was his initial reaction upon learning of my diagnosis.

I pledged the business to him, and he agreed to play my recordings at my memorial service.

My mobile device's display flickered, with messages arriving continuously.

They were from Benedict, his location indicating he was overseas.

[Kendra, don't fret. I'll return for the family meal tomorrow.]

[You're not upset, are you?]

[Kendra, please understand. Tylor threatened to end her life. I couldn't disregard that.]

[She's a human being! What sort of person would I be to allow her to perish?]

Every subsequent message brought a tingling to my mouth and sapped the energy from my body. As more notifications filled the screen, I lost awareness.

As I fell to the floor, my last thought lingered in my fading mind.

Benedict, I just pondered how wretched your demise would be.

My essence separated from my physical form. I hovered above, gazing down at my colorless face and motionless body spread across the ground.

Perhaps my unresolved anger moved the divine, granting me this opportunity to witness their inevitable ruin.

My phone, now operating on its final bit of power, displayed over 99 unread messages.

The last one from Benedict appeared: [Kendra, stop making a fuss. I might be delayed from the airport. Await me at Gabor Estate.]

I emitted a cold chuckle and willed my consciousness to Gabor Estate, eager to observe the unfolding drama.

Shortly after, Benedict arrived hastily, his necktie askew, his breathing irregular as he burst into the estate.

"Grandfather, where's Kendra? I need a private word with her," he inquired.

Anton's creased forehead deepened at his grandson's frantic behavior.

"Benny! Must you always act so impulsively? And you'd better control Tylor's behavior from now on. Our family still relies on Kendra's family's backing.

"If it weren't for Tylor's fits about studying piano abroad and your covert misuse of company assets, the business wouldn't be in such a precarious position. You can't risk alienating Kendra. Mind your temper!"

Benedict's face contorted, a blend of irritation and exasperation darkening his features.

"Grandfather, is this the appropriate moment for such discussion? If Kendra hears about this, everything will be jeopardized!"

A wave of resentment washed over me. So, the financial crisis I nearly sacrificed myself to resolve was Tylor's doing. Benedict's past kindnesses were never about affection; they were about avarice, about exploiting me to resurrect his failing enterprise.

"What?" Anton asked, perplexed by Benedict's accusatory tone.

Benedict paused momentarily, his composure faltering.

"She... hasn't shown up yet?"

He exhaled, retrieving his phone. He dialed my number repeatedly, but received no answer. After three unanswered calls, anxiety began to creep into his expression.

"Answer, Kendra! Pick up the phone!"

He began to pace, his frustration boiling over as he stomped about in agitation.

Anton suggested they be seated, reminding him that the family dinner couldn't be postponed as everyone had already arrived.

Benedict reluctantly took his place at the table, but no sooner had he settled than his phone rang.

Excitement briefly lit up his face, only to be replaced by bewilderment and unease as he listened to the voice on the other end.

It was my brother, Victor.

"Benedict, ensure you attend Kendra's funeral tomorrow."