- 5.
Slap! Slap! Slap!
In my previous life, the moment Ella knelt, I rushed to help her. This time, I just watched as she gave herself three loud, sharp slaps.
Rachel tugged at my sleeve.
The room was filled with guests, and many had already pulled out their phones, aiming them in our direction.
Rachel wanted to intervene, but I held her back,
What was the rush?
“Ella!” Nick’s expression was starting to sour
Within seconds, Ella’s cheeks had reddened and swollen. Tears brimmed in her eyes, adding to her pitiful look.
She looked from Nick to me, bit her lip, and kept hitting herself.
I took a calm sip of champagne. I was curious–how far would she take this performance?
Yes, it was all an act.
Her muteness was an act, her delicate “damsel persona was an act, and even her “suicide” in my past life was an
was an act.
Outside a secluded club lounge, I’d overheard her distinct, delicate voice pleading with a doctor:
“Doctor, I’m just a poor girl with nowhere to go. If I don’t play the sympathy card, how could I ever get through the Holts” front door?”
“Please give me some medication that’ll put me in a brief state of shock!”
