Part 2The Twin Who Died Twice

"I ate it. Can I have the money now?"

I stood up expressionlessly and held out my hand to the person who'd challenged me in the first place.

Countless glass shards were embedded in my thigh, blood staining my pants.

But I was only fixated on getting the money.

With a loud crash, Dad knocked my phone out of my hand.

It smashed hard against the floor.

"Nobody give her any money! Don't do such disgusting things while wearing Kinsley's face!"

Dad said with disgust.

Disgusting?

Maybe it really was.

In these five years of struggle, as long as it paid, had I done any less dirty, exhausting work?

Otherwise I wouldn't have developed cancer.

I rushed to pick up my phone—it was my most valuable possession.

I'd bought it with money saved from a year of janitorial work.

When I was kicked out, I had nothing.

I'd knelt at the front door begging. I'd slept in underpasses. I'd stayed in parks.

Finally, I'd faced reality.

The name Colleen had such a terrible reputation.

Even as a janitor, I was constantly made things difficult for.

I'd ended up with various health problems before I could afford this phone.

I picked it up with trembling hands. The screen was shattered.

Seeing the red chilblains on my hands, Mom's heart softened.

Twin sisters—one as delicate as a flower, the other humble as dirt in the dust.

"Just go..." Mom said.

"Leave now, and we won't make things difficult for you. Just stop hurting people!"

The handprint on my face, the glass in my thigh, the garbage I'd eaten.

All evening, I didn't know who I'd hurt.

I only knew that I was in so much pain.

My stomach began cramping violently. I hadn't had medicine in so long.

I needed that money.

But in the end, I still didn't get it.

Because once again, I was thrown out by security.

I returned to the kitchen in a daze.

"Starting today, don't come back!" the manager said coldly.

My lips went white with panic.

"Why!"

"Why? Keeping you here is just trouble. I hired you because you seemed honest, but I didn't know you had such connections. We can't accommodate you here!"

The manager shook off my hand without mercy.

"What about my wages for this month..." I said anxiously.

"Wages? You dare ask for wages? Get out!" The manager slammed the door and left.

The Mitchell family was a major client. No one dared offend them.

And I was the Mitchell family's despised enemy, so no one would treat me well.

I couldn't stay here anymore either.

But I never expected that in the end, I'd lose both my wages and that thousand-dollar tip.

Because Colleen was a sinner who'd done evil, she would never have it easy for the rest of her life.

But I'm not Colleen!

Why, why did I have to suffer all this?

I could only pack my things and return to my dwelling.

The damp, cramped basement had no sunlight.

But it was my only shelter for these five years.

Without this month's wages, I probably couldn't even afford the rent for this basement room.

The day I was diagnosed with cancer, my life collapsed.

I didn't want to die yet.

Cancer hurts so much. I often woke up in the middle of the night in pain, drenched in sweat.

My nails scraped hard against the walls, leaving bloody marks, but it still couldn't stop the pain.

Medicine could suppress it, but it was too expensive.

So I endured it.

I scrimped and saved, just to afford chemotherapy.

Now I was just a thousand dollars short. I really needed that thousand dollars.

I removed my clothes and used tweezers to extract the glass from my leg.

The blood from last night had long since dried. The glass shards were deeply embedded.

I had to pull hard to get them out.

The pain made my vision go black.

My consciousness wasn't clear, but my parents' words still echoed in my mind.

"From now on, whether you live or die has nothing to do with us!"

"Stop hurting people..."

Five years had passed, and we'd met again.

Every word they said still tugged at my heart.

I often dreamed that I was the current Kinsley.

That Mom and Dad loved me.

When pain woke me from these dreams in the middle of the night...

I realized that what I wanted most was simply to go home.

Back when I was still Kinsley, my parents didn't love me.

Now that I wasn't Kinsley anymore, my parents still didn't love me.

Is there a time difference for being loved? No—it's just that I was the wrong person.

I woke again to urgent ringing.

"Colleen, today is the last day for payment. If you don't pay, we can't schedule your chemotherapy."

It was a nurse from the hospital.

"I'm so sorry. Could you please give me a little more time?"

I pleaded weakly.

"It's not easy for us either. So many people are waiting to save their lives! We can't delay others' lives because of you!"

I could only promise to pay by tomorrow.

But where was I going to get the money?

Just then, someone pounded hard on the basement door.

The drunk landlord had come to collect rent.

I hadn't paid rent for two months because I was saving for chemotherapy.

I should have gotten my wages last night, but I'd returned empty-handed.

I only had two hundred dollars left.

The landlord took the two bills with disgust, then slapped them back in my face without mercy.

"No money and you still rent? I've been sick of looking at you! If you can't pay rent, get out!"

He threw my belongings out of the room like garbage.

Finally, he grabbed me and threw me out onto the floor outside the door.

Already injured, pain shot through my entire body.

I couldn't get up for a long time.

When I came to my senses, the landlord had already locked the door.

My belongings were scattered on the ground like trash.

The last place in this world that could shelter me had been taken away too.