2
Seven days later, I walked out of the detention center.
Breathing in the cool morning air under the soft glow of the rising sun, I felt a rare sense of relief.
This time, I had spent the entire seven days locked up, completely avoiding any of the disasters from my past life–or so I thought.
I had barely taken a few steps when someone grabbed my arm, their eyes bloodshot, and began shouting at the top of their lungs.
“It’s him! This bastard killed my pregnant daughter!”
A crowd of reporters, who had clearly been waiting outside, rushed forward. Microphones and cameras were shoved in my face as questions flew from every direction.
“Zach Sullivan, are you here to confess to the hit–and–run?”
“Why did you kill an innocent pregnant woman?”
Photographers snapped pictures relentlessly, the flashing lights blinding me.
Passersby on the street heard the commotion and started gathering. Once they recognized me, they began whispering, their voices sharp and accusing.
“Isn’t he the guy from the news? The one who ran over that pregnant lady and fled?”
“Yeah, that’s him! What a monster–he killed two lives in one blow!”
“People like him don’t deserve to live!”
3:05 PM
<
I stood there, eyebrows furrowed, my mind racing.
What the hell was going on? I had been in detention for the past seven days-how could this possibly involve me?
“You’ve got it all wrong!” I shouted. “There’s no way I’d run over a pregnant woman!”
But the victim’s father, still gripping my arm, grew even more furious. His face twisted with rage, and if I hadn’t been stronger, his fists might have already landed on me.
One of the reporters shoved their phone in my face, showing me a video.
My heart sank. My pupils dilated as the footage played.
It was dashcam footage.
In it, I was behind the wheel, grinning maniacally. The car sped up, heading straight for a pregnant woman on the sidewalk.
I watched as the car hit her, sending her flying.
In the video, my face was clear as day.
My voice rang out, exaggerated and mocking, filled with cruel amusement:
“Oops, sorry! Guess today’s just not your lucky day!”
Then, the video showed my wife, Hannah, rushing over and yanking me out of the driver’s seat.
“Zach Sullivan! What the hell are you doing? How could you do something so reckless?”
The footage continued. In it, I shoved Hannah roughly to the ground, got back in the car, and drove off. The video ended there.
My face darkened as I processed what I had just seen.
This was exactly what had happened in my past life.
But I had been in the detention center for seven days. How could this have happened again?
“You still think you can explain this away?” The victim’s father was trembling with rage, veins bulging on his forehead. My arm began to ache under his grip.
The crowd around us was growing more hostile by the second, their anger palpable.
“It’s him! There’s no doubt about it!”
“What kind of monster runs over a pregnant woman and then drives off laughing?”
“Theard he didn’t just hit her–he reversed and ran over her several more times!”
“Yeah, they said she might’ve survived the first hit, but after that, there was no chance. This guy deserves to rot in hell!”
Sweat dripped down my forehead as I tried to explain.
I’ve been in detention for the past seven days! How could I have done this?”
The victim’s father lunged at me, his head slamming into mine.
“The man in the video is clearly you! If it wasn’t you, who else could it be?”
I stumbled back, my forehead throbbing in pain.
“It’s Liam Reed!” I shouted desperately. “He’s my wife’s so-called soulmate. He’s the one who did it, not me–he’s framing me!”
<
Before I could say more, a familiar voice cut through the chaos.
“Zach Sullivan, enough already! Do you really think hiding in the detention center would solve anything?”
Hannah was standing in front of me, her expression livid.
I glared at her, disbelief coursing through me.
Before I could respond, a sharp pain shot through my back.
I stumbled forward-someone had kicked me hard in the waist.
I turned around to see him: Liam Reed.
“Zach, how much longer are you going to keep lying?” Liam sneered, his voice dripping with contempt.
