3
She slowly moved the knife back and forth across my face, as if sizing up her prey.
That feeling of being watched intensely sent cold sweat dripping down my back.
Before I could react, Blake was already there.
His face was etched with anxiety. He took a long stride, stepping over me where I lay on the floor, and rushed straight to Chloe.
First, he spoke to her in soft, soothing whispers, then gently took the fruit knife from her
hand.
“What if you hurt your hand! This is a real knife, so dangerous!”
He said, cradling Chloe gently in his arms, not even sparing me a glance.
Meanwhile, I lay on the floor, gasping for air, and he actually chuckled a few times.
“Skylar, you always said this doll was you, right?”
“If Chloe rips this doll to shreds, will you just… die along with it?”
They were both completely insane, each more twisted than the other.
Listening to them laugh together, I clenched my teeth, crawling inch by inch toward the
door.
r
There was still time before my last death. I refused to believe I couldn’t find a way to
break free!
By the time I reached the office, it was already four in the afternoon.
Brenda saw me and immediately rushed over, grabbing my hand.
“Skylar! Your proposal was amazing! The client signed on the spot and specifically requested you to lead the project!”
“Everyone saw your hard work these past few days. The boss even said you’re getting a promotion and a raise this time!”
Hearing that it had worked out, I finally let out a sigh of relief.
Actually, ever since the day I’d been reborn, I’d started planning my escape.
While I was testing Chloe, trying to figure out what the empathic link was all about, I also pushed the project forward.
Sure enough, Chloe’s attention was diverted, and the project landed smoothly.
As soon as I followed Brenda into the office, confetti burst from the ceiling.
“Congratulations, Skylar, for landing the big deal!”
“Congratulations, Skylar—”
But before my colleagues could finish their congratulations, someone stared at the hem of my skirt and gasped.
“Skylar, why is your skirt wet? Where did you get water on it?”
My heart tightened. I looked down, and my skirt was already drenched.
Immediately, that familiar cold, damp sensation spread through my entire body.
I didn’t have time to explain. I grabbed my bag and rushed into the restroom.
<
I remembered clearly: soon, Chloe would pretend to give the doll a bath and press it underwater.
That feeling of suffocation had once made me completely lose control in front of a client, leaving me frozen and humiliated.
Back then, my colleagues thought something was wrong with me and sent me to the hospital, but tests showed nothing.
Sure enough, just as I closed the stall door,
The sensation of drowning washed over me like a tide.
I felt like a leaf floating in water, clutching the doorknob tightly.
As if that was the only way to hold onto a shred of support.
It was as if I truly became that doll; icy water poured into my mouth and nose, stinging my throat like needles.
My lungs felt like they were being squeezed by a powerful hand, constantly compressed, on the verge of being crushed to dust.
Just as consciousness began to fade, the doll was finally pulled out of the water.
I gasped for air, coming back to life.
Still breathing heavily, my phone suddenly rang.
It was Chloe calling.
I hung up immediately, but my head felt like it was violently pushed underwater. The suffocating sensation returned, then vanished just as quickly.
The phone rang again.
My eyes red, I stared at the flashing name on the screen, finally hitting answer.
“Sister-in-law~” Her voice was sinister, as if coming from underground. “Did your project
this afternoon… go through?”
