Part 3Died at His Funeral, Woke at Our Wedding

"Where do you think you're going?" Kendall jeered before seizing me and dragging me straight to the rooftop.

Years of overwork had left me little more than skin and bones. Hence, she lifted me effortlessly.

After hauling me up to the rooftop, she abruptly let go. I stumbled forward, and her voice sounded behind me.

"What's the matter? Can't even stay on your feet anymore?" Kendall crossed her arms, standing a few paces away from me.

"Then again, someone with one foot in the grave like you can only stir up trouble," she spat out, eyeing me apathetically.

I turned around and caught the fleeting sneer at the corner of her mouth. My heart spasmed violently, and my vision instantly went black.

I staggered back a step, and my spine crashed against the railing. I could barely keep myself upright.

Her sneer widened when she saw that. "What's wrong? Can't take it anymore? My father was right about you—you're just a useless, sickly woman with nothing to offer except a paycheck and free childcare. Now you can't even stand up straight. What a pathetic waste of space!"

"How dare you…" The heart-wrenching pain rendered me speechless. All I could do was clutch my chest and gasp for air.

My legs gave out, and I slid down along the railing. My heart condition had flared up again, and I had no medication on me. I was as good as dead.

Kendall inched closer toward me and snarled, "Listen here, the second you die, I'll throw all your belongings out! You can forget about getting your hands on this house and my father's—"

Before she could finish, I reached out and grabbed her ankle in a vice grip. She yelped and lost her balance instantly.

"If I'm going down, you're coming with me!" I rasped, using the momentum of my fall to yank her toward me.

"Let go of me, you lunatic!" she shrieked, thrashing wildly. Her fingernails raked the air, but we'd already toppled over the guardrail.

I braced myself for the agony of death, but it never came.

…

My eyes flew open, and the first thing I saw was white—white roses, flickering candles, and ivory ribbons. I was sitting on a bed covered with a white satin comforter, dressed in a wedding gown.

As I took in my surroundings, my heart pounded. Wasn't this… the venue for Kenneth's and my wedding? Our home?

Before I could gather my thoughts, a voice rang out. "My, my, the bride sure is a lucky woman!"

The shrill voice dripped with jealousy. "She's gone from rags to riches by marrying Kenneth."

I turned toward the voice. It belonged to Gemma Smith, Kenneth's aunt, who never missed a chance to wag her tongue.

Gemma was making exaggerated faces as she spoke to the people beside her. Instead of reining herself in, she raised her voice.

Her gaze darted suggestively toward my lower abdomen. "If you ask me, Kenneth has so much going for him. He hasn't even been divorced long, so why is he in such a hurry to remarry? Unless..."

Gemma covered her mouth and giggled. "She used some special trick to get pregnant first!"

The women around her joined in, whispering and casting contemptuous glances my way.

If I were the cowardly self from my previous life—whose only desire was to fit into the Sterling family—I probably would've flushed red, lowered my head, and silently endured the humiliation.

But now, my heart was filled with a roaring wave of hatred.

Before anyone could register what was happening, I sprang to my feet and closed the distance between us. Under the stunned gazes of all the guests, I raised my hand and slapped Gemma across the face with all my might.

The entire room fell dead silent.

Gemma's head snapped to the side. She clutched her cheek and gaped at me. "H-How dare you lay a hand on me?"

"I did it because I wanted to. What, do I need to check the calendar first before I slap you?" I spat out. "You spew filth every time you open your mouth. Clearly, your family failed to teach you how to keep that filthy mouth of yours shut!"