Chapter 4

When I woke again, I was in a hospital bed.

The harsh fluorescent light made my head spin.

"A miracle! It's nothing short of a miracle! A fire that size, and this child only has a few surface burns!" The doctor's astonished voice rang in my ears.

I slowly opened my eyes and saw Walter standing by the bed, his face white as paper.

When he saw me wake, he looked like he'd seen a ghost and jerked back a step.

A police officer came over with the routine questions. "Sweetheart, do you remember how the crash happened?"

I looked at Walter, the corner of my mouth curling into a sneer too faint to catch.

He swallowed nervously, his eyes full of pleading.

"Officer, I… I can't remember clearly. I only remember the car suddenly went out of control, and then it caught fire. My dad got hurt trying to save me." I put on a weak, frail act, tears rolling down my cheeks.

The officer comforted me a little, then turned to Walter. "Mr. Croft, you're lucky your daughter survived. But we'll be investigating the cause further, so please stay available to cooperate."

After the officer left, only Walter and I remained in the room.

The air was dead silent.

"What… what exactly do you want?" Walter's voice trembled. The way he looked at me was the way you'd look at a monster.

I put the tears away and fixed him with an icy stare. "Walter, did you really think your plan was airtight? When you jumped out of the car, I saw every bit of it."

His legs went weak; he nearly dropped to the floor.

"Clara, Daddy was wrong! Daddy lost my mind for a moment! Won't you forgive me?" He threw himself at the bedside, begging, a mess of snot and tears.

"Forgive you? Sure." I sneered. "I want you to change the beneficiary on that accident policy to my name. Right now. And I want a supplementary card with no limit. Otherwise, I tell the police exactly how you tried to murder your own daughter."

Walter nodded over and over like a man granted a pardon. "Yes! Yes! Daddy will do whatever you say!"

The moment I had the money and the insurance, the first thing I did was go to a flower shop and buy a big bunch of the brightest yellow roses. Then I went to my mom's hospital room.

I pushed the door open and froze.

The room was thick with the scent of roses. In the vase by my mom's bed, there was already a fresh bunch of yellow roses.

"Mom, did someone come to see you?" I asked, startled.

When she saw me, panic flashed in her eyes. She struggled upright and grabbed my hand, her voice urgent. "Clara, listen to me. You're in danger right now. Go! Get away from here!"

I was completely lost. "Mom, what are you talking about? I've already got Walter under control. He wouldn't dare hurt me."

She shook her head, tears spilling over. With trembling hands, she fished a silver fidget spinner out from under her pillow and pressed it into my palm.

"Take this! Spin it counterclockwise three times and you can go back to the past. Spin it clockwise three times and you can go to the future. Remember—you only get three chances. Run! Run as far as you can!"

I stared at the finely made spinner in my hand and was sure the illness had muddled her mind.

"Mom, don't scare me…"

"Clara, happy birthday, my baby." She suddenly cupped my face and pressed a cold kiss to my forehead.

The next second, the heart monitor let out a piercing, drawn-out wail.

A flat line.

My mom was dead.