The Tower Reversed: Back to 18 Free Preview

"Guard against strangers all you want—sometimes the thief lives in your own house!"

Thunder crashed across the sky as rain poured down in sheets. A servant shoved Venus Burn out of the house, causing her to stumble hard down the stone steps. Her small frame hit the ground with a thud.

Her knees were scraped open, but she didn't care about the blood. Terrified of being abandoned by her family, she cried out loud and begged, "Dad, please! I didn't steal Bree's Cartier!"

Standing under the porch roof, Harvey Burn glared at her. "A girl from the backwoods town—of course you have sticky fingers!" he barked. "Stay out there and let the rain wash that filthy heart of yours clean! When morning comes, I'll send you back where you came from. Maybe a few hard days in the mud will make you repent!"

The moment she heard she'd be sent back, Venus went pale. She shook all over, begging him again and again.

"Dad, please, believe me. I didn't take anything—"

The door slammed shut with a loud bang.

She lifted her head toward the sealed door, rain streaming down her face like tears. Her thin arms, already covered in whip marks, trembled. The girl's pale, hollow cheeks showed nothing but despair.

No one knew how long she stood there—an hour, maybe more—until she heard footsteps behind her.

Venus turned weakly.

It was Axel Burn, the oldest son of the Burns.

He was wearing a black suit, holding an umbrella, and walking toward her with his usual distant expression. His eyes never even glanced her way, like this scene was too common to care about.

Seeing him, Venus felt a surge of hope. She wanted to grab his leg but stopped herself. Venus remembered his obsession with cleanliness. Axel never let anyone touch him.

Her trembling hand froze midair and slowly dropped.

"Axel," she said through sobs, her voice breaking, "please talk to Dad for me. I swear I didn't steal Bree's bracelet! I don't even know what Cartier is!"

But Axel just walked past her like he hadn't heard a thing.

"Axel!" Venus cried louder. She stumbled forward and grabbed his ankle, clinging on desperately.

He stopped but didn't turn around. His voice was calm, almost mechanical. "Get your filthy hands off me."

Venus shook her head. "Please, don't let them send me back. If they do, that drunk will kill me. I'm begging you, Axel, help me ... Just this once, I promise ... Please ... "

She'd stood for hours in the rain. Her voice was weak, barely more than a whisper.

To Axel, her begging sounded fake—another act. He remembered the first time she came to the house. How she'd been caught stealing and hiding things under her bed.

And now she was at it again, still lying through her teeth. Disgust rose in his chest.

"Didn't steal, you say? Then why does everyone say you did?" His tone cut like ice.

"If one person accuses you, maybe it's not true. But if everyone does, what does that make you?

"Venus, this family has never raised someone as shameless as you. You're nothing but a disgrace to us all."

He paused, his voice chilling even more. "If you want to prove your innocence—go die."

Then he walked inside, slamming the door behind him.

Venus stood frozen in the storm, staring blankly at the closed door that had shut her out once again. Her knees shook as she tried to get up, barely able to stand.

When she turned her head, she saw the strange, expensive-looking sculpture beside her.

She remembered the first time she came to this house. Venus wanted to touch that pretty sculpture, but her younger sister, Bree Burn, scolded her. Bree said it was so expensive, and if Venus ruined it, she couldn't afford to replace it.

Yeah, that sculpture was precious. She mustn't get it dirty. Otherwise, her family would be mad again.

Venus stumbled toward the corner, dazed and lost.

Rumble!

A loud thunderclap drowned out the sound of her last desperate cry—her attempt to prove her innocence with her life.

The next day, at the city crematorium, workers were preparing to move the girl's body.

They zipped her into a body bag and placed her inside the casket. They were ready to push it toward the furnace when—

A cold, sharp voice came from inside.

"Earth divide, dust scatter—banish the taint, undo the binds—break!"

The lid burst open with a loud bang.

"Holy—she's come back to live!"

The workers fell back in shock as a pale, thin hand clawed its way out of the body bag.

"Arghhhhh! Help!"

Ten minutes later, the workers finally realized Venus hadn't really died. She just unconscious from head trauma.

One worker wiped his sweat, still shaking. "If I'd known you were alive, I would've stitched your head better. Should I send you to the hospital now?"

Venus touched the wound on her forehead. The stitches were tight and neat enough.

"It's fine," she said quietly.

The man looked at her skinny frame—malnourished, weak, barely alive—and felt sorry for her. He handed her a bottle of milk from his lunch bag. "You have any family here? Friends? Anyone I can call for you?"

The people who brought her here had said only one thing before leaving—"Keep the ashes. We don't want them." No ID, no information—nothing.

She must've had no one left. Poor girl.

Venus was so hungry she could barely move. She sat there and drank the milk quietly. Then she looked up at the man, studying his face.

"Your moon sign is low," she said. "That means unrest at home—your parents' health is shadowed. The moon falls deeper. It speaks of your mother's health. If she seeks help soon, the illness will pass. But if she delays, the knife will follow, and fate may not spare her."

The man blinked in confusion. "Huh? What are you talking about, kid?"

Venus stood, brushing off her sleeves. "Got to go. Consider that a reading in return for the milk."

The crematorium was far from the city. Venus leaned against a roadside tree, hands in her pockets, her pale face calm and distant.

She glanced at the faint whip marks on her hand. Despite her young face, there was a cold, unearthly sharpness in her eyes.

"So, I really came back."

She was Venus, but she was also the Oracle Supreme, reborn from 30 years in the future.

It all came back to her. She had been living in a quiet mountain town, far away from the city, for 18 years—until a year ago, Julian Burn, the richest man in Zrebert, found her and took her to his grand house in the busy city of Zrebert, claiming she was his real granddaughter.

But after she returned to her birth family, life didn't get better. No one ever treated her like family.

Every little problem in the house somehow became her fault.

Her childhood in the backwater town had already been harsh. Her foster father was a drunk and a gambler, and her foster mother was weak and silent, always afraid to speak up. Growing up in that environment had shaped her into someone shy, insecure, and desperate to please everyone.

When she came to Zrebert, she tried her hardest to make everyone happy. She smiled when she wanted to cry. Venus obeyed when she wanted to scream. Even though she lived in the richest home in the city, she ate scraps, wore old clothes, and looked pale and thin—more like a servant than a daughter of wealth.

This time, she was thrown out again because Bree had accused her of stealing a necklace.

Nobody believed her, not even her father. Every member of the family sided with Bree, calling her a thief, a liar, and a shame to their name.

Bree even whipped her in front of everyone, laughing as Venus fell to her knees, humiliated and broken.

To prove her innocence, Venus had slammed her head against the wall. Everything went black.

When she woke up, she was lying alone in the garden, not in a morgue.

She slowly lifted her eyes and saw a crematorium worker pulling up in a van.

The worker jumped out, smiling wide. "Hey, kid! You're amazing! I called my mom after talking to you. She'd been having bad stomach pain but refused to see a doctor. You told me to have her checked right away, and guess what? She really did have an infection. Thankfully, they caught it early. She'll be fine with medicine. How can I ever thank you?"

He looked at her with a grateful smile.

Venus gave a faint smile, her lips pale and weak. She said softly, "Mister, please take me home."

Venus hitched rides all the way back to her house.

Before her stood a grand Euron-style mansion. Its tall marble doors looked majestic, made from white stone imported from Strayjan. The wide courtyard was covered in lush green grass, and flowerbeds were filled with rare, colorful blooms. The place screamed wealth and pride.

That worker gawked at the sight. "Wait—this isn't the richest man's mansion in Zrebert, is it? You work here or something?"

He thought she was one of the servants.

Venus said nothing. She just stared at the house quietly.

There was a time she would've done anything to be loved by the people inside.

She had bowed her head and tried to please them, begging for their affection, but all she got back was rejection and disgust.

Whether in the countryside or in the city, she had never once felt warmth.

All she ever received was coldness and humiliation.

Only after she ran away and met her mentor and joined the Hermetic Order did she finally understand something. She was born under a thin bond of kinship.

Some ties just weren't meant to be hers.

So even if she got a second chance at life, she wouldn't want them again.

It was eight o'clock at night.

The mansion glowed brightly, filled with laughter and music.

Venus walked up to the glass wall and looked inside.

The grand living room was packed with elegant guests—rich socialites and polished young heirs clinking glasses and laughing. They were celebrating Lumi Burn’s 18th birthday. She was the fifth out of seven children in the family.

Venus suddenly remembered—it was her 18th birthday too.

But no one remembered. Not even her father, who knew the truth: Lumi was the fake daughter. Venus was the real one.

Harvey, who was always stern and not the type to smile easily, was smiling widely, standing beside her stepmother, Megan Burn. Together they pushed out a tall cake covered in layers of frosting. "Happy birthday, sweetheart," Harvey said warmly.

Axel, the eldest son, was dressed in a black tuxedo. He sat by the grand piano, playing a soft, beautiful melody. "Happy birthday, Lumi."

Neil Burn, the second son of the Burns, handed Lumi a shiny AI-powered pet robot he had built himself. "Happy birthday, Lumi."

Keir Burn, the third son, presented a jar of his new scar-healing beauty cream, specially made for her. "Happy birthday, Lumi."

Rayne Burn, the fourth son, hired Lumi's favorite male singer to perform for the occasion. Together, they sang her a birthday song. "Happy birthday, Lumi!"

The youngest sister, Bree, gifted her a designer necklace, which she personally handpicked. "Happy birthday, Lumi."

Even little Percy, the seventh and youngest son of the Burns, who was always up to no good, gave her a hand-drawn picture. "Happy birthday, sis!"

The whole family was glowing with warmth and joy.

Venus thought back to that night years ago—when she'd been unconscious on her birthday. When she finally woke up, nobody remembered. Instead, they told her to clean up the mess in the living room.

Back then, she had been foolish. She told herself it was normal. They'd known Lumi longer; of course they forgot her birthday. So she forced a smile and eagerly cleaned the place up without a word.

Now that she thought about it, she must have been out of her mind.

Venus took a slow breath, pushed those thoughts aside, and shoved the door open.

The moment Venus stepped inside, Harvey's cheerful face darkened. "You ... Why are you here? Of all days, why must you show up on such a happy day? Get lost!"

His bark silenced the room. Everyone turned to stare at Venus. Their eyes were full of scorn and disgust.

Bree sneered at her older sister, whom she'd always looked down on for coming from the countryside. Her voice dripped with spite as she snapped, "What are you doing here, country bumpkin? Don't you see? Everyone here's rich. Oh, wait! Don't tell me you're trying to steal something again?"

At the mention of "stealing," a few heiresses in designer gowns instinctively covered their jewelry. Their looks toward Venus turned colder with contempt.

Venus stood still, her head slightly lowered, enduring the humiliation. The birthday girl, Lumi, lifted her gown and walked over with a gentle smile, trying to smooth things over.

"Don't be so harsh. Maybe Venus only took the necklace because she couldn't afford a gift. Bree, can't you forgive her this once? I'm sure she won't do it again."

But Bree refused to let it go. "Ugh! Don't pretend she's innocent! A thief is a thief, and I hate that! Just so you know, she's stolen from me more than once!"

Venus was amused.

She raised her head and met Bree's eyes directly.

"Since the day I came to this house," she said evenly, "I've never stolen a single thing."

Bree froze. She wasn't used to that look—calm, steady, defiant.

Venus had never dared to look her in the eye before—always timid, always apologizing.

What happened today? Not only was she staring back, but she also actually talked back.

Bree let out a sharp laugh. "Oh, yeah? Didn't steal, huh? You've got some nerve saying that. You were so desperate for money you almost stole Grandpa's gold watch to sell it! He was so furious he moved to the mountain villa just to stay away from you."

At the mention of Julian, everyone's expression hardened. The disgust in their eyes deepened as they looked at Venus.

"Venus," Bree spat, "you're rotten to the core. Stop pretending to be innocent."

Venus's face stayed calm.

In the past, she had done everything to please her family. She thought that if she tried hard enough, they'd finally accept her.

But she'd been wrong.

This house had never been her home—not then, not ever.

In her last life, she endured their cruelty in silence. This time, she wouldn't.

Venus took a bold step forward. Without hesitation, she flipped the birthday cake. Gasps filled the room. Before anyone could react, she knocked over the champagne tower too.

The guests froze in shock, eyes wide as the scene descended into chaos.

Venus went on a rampage. She smashed everything she could reach—including the gifts meant for Lumi.

In seconds, the elegant living room turned into a disaster zone.

The Burns were livid. "Are you crazy, Venus?! What are you trying to do?" Harvey roared, face red with rage.

Lumi's eyes filled with tears. "My birthday party ... " she whimpered.

Her brothers rushed to comfort her, glaring at Venus with pure hatred.

"Venus, what's wrong with you?!"

"Apologize to Lumi, now!"

Venus rubbed her sore hand and gave a lazy, satisfied smile. "You all call me wicked, right? If I don't cause a little destruction, wouldn't that make me seem too obedient?"

She looked around the ruined room, her tone suddenly sharper. "So, you think I stole something, huh?"

Her gaze landed on a maid standing stiffly in the corner.

"Patricia."

The maid trembled all over, forcing a calm tone. "Yes, Ms. Venus? What do you need?"

Venus spoke coolly, "You can confess and make it easier for yourself, or we can check the security cameras."

Patricia froze. Cameras? How would this country girl even know about that?

Lumi stepped in gently, her voice sweet but laced with manipulation. "Venus, I told Bree not to argue with you anymore. You just need to change your attitude. Why drag innocent people into this?"

Her words sounded kind, but she was defending Patricia while making Venus look like a liar.

Venus turned her gaze on Lumi. Her expression was calm, but her words cut deep. "You told Patricia to frame me, didn't you? What's wrong, Lumi—afraid the real daughter might take back what's hers?"

The entire room erupted in murmurs. The real daughter?

All the guests widened their eyes at this.

Until that moment, everyone had believed Venus was just Harvey's adopted girl. The Burns had always told the public that story. But now—this revelation changed everything.

If Venus was the real daughter, then what was Lumi?

Lumi's circle of rich-heiress friends couldn't stand this. They immediately jumped to her defense.

"Lumi's been nothing but nice to you, you little thief! You ruined her birthday, and now you're accusing her? You're disgusting!"

"Someone should call the cops on her! Let her rot in jail for a while; maybe that'll teach her manners!"

"Yeah, Lumi, you're too kind. Some people just don't learn until they face the consequences!"

"I've heard all about Venus," someone sneered. "Greedy, always chasing fancy things, can't stop stealing. People from the countryside never have clean hands. Just look at her—does that face scream ‘real heiress' to you? She doesn't deserve the name!"

The insults kept coming, sharp and cruel. And honestly, no one in that glittering room would ever believe that the frail, underfed girl standing there—pale skin, thin frame, and hollow eyes—was the real daughter of the Burns.

Rumors about her "stealing" had spread long ago. Tonight, they simply sealed the verdict. Not one person spoke up for her.

Venus smiled, though her eyes stayed cold. "Save your breath. I already called the cops. They'll be here soon."

The room fell silent. Patricia's face turned pallid. Her fingers twitched as she stole a quick glance at Lumi, panic flashing across her eyes.

A dark look flashed in Lumi's eyes, but her tone turned soft and pitiful.

"Venus, today's my birthday party. All the important people in Zrebert are here. If you really want to make a scene, can't you at least wait until another day?"

"Enough! Stop spouting nonsense!" Harvey shouted, his face red with anger. "Who told you to call the cops? You have embarrassed this family! Haven't you had enough?"

Venus's face stayed calm. "Since your security cameras are just for decoration and none of you believe me, then let the police handle it. I didn't do what I'm accused of, and I'm not afraid to prove it."

Before she entered the house, she had already borrowed that crematorium worker's phone to call the police.

The Burns never cared about facts. They only listened to the servants and Bree, who pointed their fingers. They concluded that Venus had a habit of stealing.

Deep down, they never believed she was innocent.

But this time, she wasn't going to do anything stupid to prove it.

"Enough!" Axel snapped, grabbing her thin wrist.

Venus winced from the pain but calmly twisted her hand and locked his wrist in return. Her steady eyes meeting his.

Axel frowned, startled by the pain. He quickly pulled away.

His face darkened.

"Tonight is Lumi's birthday party. Don't make a fool of yourself."

Venus gave a small, mocking smile. "Right. I've only lost my name and reputation, but Lumi might lose her special birthday party. How terrible."

Axel's brows furrowed.

For the first time, something about his little sister from the countryside felt strange.

Just last night, she had been begging him for mercy.

Now her cold, cutting stare felt sharp enough to pierce through him.

Something about her had changed, though he couldn't say what.

Neil, who had always looked down on Venus, checked his watch impatiently. "Axel, I've got work at the hospital. I'll head out first."

He paused, his cool gaze sweeping toward Venus.

"Family matters should be handled privately. Making a scene won't do your reputation any good."

Of course, his words were meant to protect Lumi.

Even now, all they cared about was protecting Lumi's image, not their real sister's innocence.

Venus had seen through them long ago. She no longer waited for them to believe her.

Unfortunately for them, they were already too late.

Just as Neil opened the front door, the police were standing outside.

The wealthy girls watching from the side started snickering.

"Everyone knows you're a thief, Venus. You've got some nerve calling the cops. Once they find out the truth, you'll be the one going to jail!"

"Yeah, once your record says ‘theft,' your life's over!"

Venus stood tall, calm, and steady while the police gathered evidence.

Soon, the truth came out. Every theft that Venus had been accused of was actually Patricia's doing, and she framed Venus for it. Her action was caught on camera for everyone to see.

The room fell silent. All those who had been waiting to see her humiliated were now stunned.

They couldn't believe it. Venus had been telling the truth. She never stole anything.

On the screen, Patricia was seen sneaking into Venus's room with Bree's Cartier necklace in hand. Axel frowned deeply at the footage.

But even so, he told himself, that doesn't clear her name completely.

She still had plenty of bad habits, ones that ran too deep to change.

Patricia scrambled to explain, "I—I must've put it in the wrong place while cleaning! I thought it was Ms. Venus's necklace—"

Venus's face stayed cold. "Really? You thought I owned jewelry like that? You've seen my room. Do I look like someone who owns expensive things?"

Everyone knew she didn't. She might have lived in the mansion, but she owned nothing—no luxury, no comfort, nothing.

Everyone in the house knew it.

Lumi quickly spoke up, trying to smooth things over. "I believe Patricia just made a mistake. She's worked for our family for years; she wouldn't—"

Venus cut her off. "So after all these years, she can still make such a basic mistake? Doesn't that prove someone told her to do it?"

Lumi's face went white. Her mouth puckered. She looked so hurt it was almost pathetic.

"Lumi is gentle and kind. She'd never do something like this," someone snapped.

Her brothers flew to her side. They formed a shield, glaring at Venus fiercely. Their eyes burned with anger.

To them, Venus wasn't family; she was the enemy.

Venus had spent years in the Hermetic Order. Her heart had turned into stone; nothing pierced it anymore.

When she saw them crowd around Lumi, it didn't surprise her. She felt nothing, as she had long stopped being eager for their attention.

"Now the truth's out. It proves I didn't steal," Venus said, her voice rising. "If anyone calls me a thief again, I'll tear their mouth to pieces."

She walked up to Patricia and slapped her hard—two sharp slaps.

Blood ran from Patricia's nose. She stared in disbelief. "You—bumpkin—how dare you hit me!" she cried.

Slap! Slap!

Venus hit her again, but this time her voice was icy. "You framed me for theft and teamed up with the other servants in pushing me out. Don't you deserve this? If you want someone to hate, then hate the one who told you to do it."

Patricia shrank back and fell silent. She knew who couldn't cross both sides.

Venus walked toward Lumi.

The girl shrank back like a frightened rabbit and hid behind her brothers, expecting a blow.

Venus didn't hold back. She slapped each of the four brothers across their faces.

One hard slap after another.

Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!

They stood stunned, too shocked to react. No one had expected her to strike them in public.

Venus gave a thin, cold smile. "So this is what a real heiress looks like? I never wanted that."

She took a slow breath and looked at them all. "From today on, I cut ties with this family.

"I won't let you hurt me again. Try me if you dare."

After speaking her mind, Venus ignored the shocked stares and walked straight toward the servants' quarters.

She might've been called the adopted daughter of this family, but in truth, she'd always been treated like one of the servants.

Inside, she opened a small drawer and pulled out the clothes she wore when she first arrived a year ago.

A faded white T-shirt and a pair of school pants patched at the knees.

When she walked back into the living room dressed like that, every pair of eyes turned toward her. The same looks as before—disbelief, disgust, and judgment.

But this time, Venus didn't care. She lifted her chin and strode past them, her back straight, her steps firm.

Her brothers finally realized what she was doing. Anger flared, and they rushed to follow. Harvey's shout stopped them.

"Leave her. She's not worth the trouble. We should take good care of your sister!"

Axel clenched his jaw, his cheek still burning from where she'd hit him earlier. His face darkened.

"What's she trying to pull now? Does she really think throwing a tantrum will make us see her differently?"

To him, it was simple. She couldn't stand seeing Lumi happy.

To Axel and the others, Venus's outburst was nothing more than a tantrum. She had gone wild—hitting, shouting, and wrecking Lumi's birthday party. To them, she just wanted chaos, and she wanted the whole family humiliated.

Her behavior, they thought, was nothing but a ploy. She wanted them to chase after her, to beg her to come back.

"A girl from the countryside, and yet she plays these twisted little mind games."

Axel muttered with a bitter sneer, "So young and already so shameless. Truly disgusting."

...

Outside the Burn Mansion, Venus felt as if she had just broken free from a cage. The air smelled of rain and freedom.

She ran down the street, shouting with excitement, "Mentor, I'm coming for you!"

In her past life, she had endured three long years in that house before finally leaving in despair.

This time, she wouldn't wait another second.

She was going to find her mentor.

A day later, she arrived at the ruins of the old cottage.

Venus stopped in her tracks, stunned. The place that had once felt sacred now stood in ruin; only one broken wall and half a crooked wooden door remained.

It was here that she'd first met her mentor, who had taken her in and taught her the ways of the Oracle.

Back then, the cottage might've been quiet, but it wasn't destroyed like this.

As Venus began to draw a quick tarot reading in the air, a black Maybach rolled to a slow stop beside her.

Two people stepped out.

A middle-aged man helped a tall but frail-looking man to his feet—handsome, sharp-featured, yet with a touch of exhaustion in his expression.

Venus's breath caught. She recognized him instantly.

Drake Frost—the man who had once been her sworn enemy.

When she first met Drake, he was already one of the most powerful men in the business world.

The name Drake stood for power and wealth. He was a legend at the very top of the pyramid.

Unfortunately, he was born under a cursed star. He only lived to 35 before his brilliant life came to an end.

She called him her "sworn enemy" because even after death, his spirit wouldn't leave her alone. He haunted her until that final battle, when she used every ounce of her power to cast the sealing spell. As it sapped the strength from her limbs and sent the world spinning, she saw him burst forward, scrambling to break her fall.

Now, looking at the 20-something man before her, Venus couldn't help thinking how fragile he looked.

So this is the mighty Drake, she thought. He doesn't seem all that strong after all.

Saul Bax, the middle-aged man, supported Drake as they walked toward the cottage. When they saw the crumbling building, both men froze.

"Saul," Drake said in a low, steady voice, "are you sure this is the place my grandfather meant? The great oracle lives here?" The young man tone was calm but carried pressure, like a sharp blade hidden behind silk.

Saul nodded and looked toward Venus. He noticed Venus dressed in plain, patched clothes like a kid from a nearby mountain town. Saul hesitated before asking, "Hey, kid, do you know where the owner of this cottage is?"

Venus tilted her head. "Why are you looking for my mentor?"

Saul twitched his mouth.

"We aren't looking for your mentor. We're looking for the one who lived in this cottage."

He was starting to think the girl was messing with them.

Venus saw the doubt in his eyes. She bowed slightly at him and said calmly, "Mentee of the Great Oracle, Skylor Dust, at your service."

Judging by Drake's fragile state, she guessed they were here to ask her mentor to change his fate.

Saul was skeptical. "You're Mr. Dust's student? You don't look it—you're barely a teenager! Mr. Dust disappeared years ago and told us to come here 20 years later to find him. Where is he now?"

Venus wished she knew. Not even her cards could reveal his whereabouts.

Oh well—might as well deal with what's in front of her.

She sat down on the broken wooden step, gave them a small smile, and said, "My mentor's traveling the world. The cottage's mine for now. If you've got a problem, speak up. If I can help, I will—"

Before she could finish, Drake turned away without a word and walked off.

His face was cold and unreadable.

"Mr. Drake!" Saul hurried after him. "Mr. Ralph said you must pay your respects to the Cottage of the Wilds to save your life!"

Drake shot him a cold look, his eyes sweeping lazily toward Venus. "You want me to pay my respect to a pile of junk? What a joke."

Venus blinked. She had no words.

Okay, calling the cottage junk was one thing, but why was he looking at me when he said it?

Thinking of how this guy had haunted her every day and night after his death, refusing to leave her alone, her ears turned hot. She slapped her hand against the broken door.

"Bah! A short-lived man like you—if you're going to die, do it somewhere else! Don't drop dead in my cottage and bring me bad luck!"

Saul's eyes lit up. "Mr. Drake! She must be Mr. Dust's mentee! Only a true oracle could recognize your fate so clearly!"

Drake's gaze turned icy. Anger masked his face.

Is Saul getting old or just plain stupid?

Couldn't he tell the brat is insulting me?

"If you're truly Mr. Dust's mentee," Saul asked earnestly, "is there any way you can help Mr. Drake survive this disaster?"

Drake stood tall, his face cold, his lips pressed into a thin line.

He wanted to see what nonsense this brat could come up with next.

Saul noticed Drake's look and added cautiously, "Since you're Mr. Dust's mentee, surely he told you before he went wandering that we would come here seeking his wisdom?"

Venus's sharp gaze swept over Drake's face.

Years of sickness had left his skin paler than most. His features were sharp and handsome—clean-cut jaw, cool eyes, and thin lips. He was a bit lean, but his tall frame and the all-black suit gave him an air of power. Even looking frail, he somehow carried a restrained, almost untouchable charm.

Back when he was a ghost, he was mostly shameless. Still, she had to admit—this man's face was annoyingly perfect.

Both his features and bone structure were flawless. Those who mastered physiognomy would call that face a rare blessing.

Too bad his fate was cursed. His lifeline was weak. Without her mentor extending it years ago, he would've died before 20.

Looking at his cold, elegant face now, Venus found it hard to connect this man with that shameless ghost Drake she remembered.

Venus had once read Drake's astrological chart. She saw a danger hit him when he was 20.

It was called the blood omen.

"The blood omen brings blood and sudden disaster," she told them. "For most people it means money loss or serious illness. For someone like you—a short-lived soul—it can be deadly."

"Of course—just like Mr. Dust said!" Saul said, eyes wide. "Ms. Oracle, how do we remove the blood omen for Mr. Drake?" He sounded devout.

When this plain-looking girl said the same thing as Skylor, it convinced Saul that she was truly a mentee of Skylor.

Venus answered casually, "Easy. Keep him here with me for three days and it will—"

Before she finished, Saul jumped into his Maybach and drove off, yelling over his shoulder.

"Mr. Drake, I'll pick you up in three days!"

He left in such a hurry he looked like he was running away from trouble.

Venus couldn't believe this. "Hey—what are you doing leaving him at my door like this?"

Drake said nothing. He reached for his phone.

But his hand came up empty.

The phone was still in the car.

They stood there looking at each other in awkward silence. The quiet was broken only by the rumble of Venus's stomach.

"Um, are you hungry?" she asked, a little awkward.

She knew the dead Drake well, but she did not know this young Drake at all.

Drake did not answer right away. Slowly he pulled off his tie, loosened the top button, and began to take off his suit jacket.

Venus had seen him do that countless times before. She sprang forward and grabbed both sides of the jacket. She held it tight so he couldn't take it off.

Drake rarely let others get close. When the girl lunged, his breathing hitched. His face flushed.

Venus stepped back the moment she realized what she'd done. "Why are you taking off your clothes here?" she asked.

"Dirty," he said, tossing the jacket onto a pile of rotting wood and sitting down.

It was his cushion. She had mistaken his intent.

He looked at her with a cool, puzzled gaze. Venus, standing stiff with a sense of rightness, said, "It's cold in the hills. Mr. Frost, you're weak. Don't remove your coat out in the open."

Drake bristled at that odd phrasing but said nothing.

Hungry, Venus ran to a nearby grave and found herself some offerings.

She devoured it without embarrassment. Drake watched her eat the food left for the dead and frowned.

"You can eat that?" he asked.

Venus bit into a slice of honey cake and handed him an apple. "I asked the grave owner. He said it's fine."

Drake blinked.

The grave owner was dead, wasn't he?

She'd asked a ghost for permission?

Whatever. None of my business.

If his grandfather hadn't insisted he come to the cottage, he wouldn't have believed any of this.

He only needed to wait for someone to pick him up when it got dark.

As for the girl who ate the grave offerings like a picnic?

He decided it was safer to keep his distance.

Venus saw him move farther away from her. She warned calmly, "That broken door's about to fall. If you don't want to bleed, you'd better move back to my side."

Drake glanced at the half-hanging door. It looked old, but not that fragile—

Bang!

The door collapsed, landing right on his back.

Venus smiled, watching him struggle, not offering the slightest help.

When Drake pushed the door off, a sharp splinter sliced his palm.

He stared at the blood, then looked at her coldly, unable to describe the feeling that crept up inside him.

Is she cursed or something?

As the sun dipped below the horizon, Rowan Hill arrived, following the location Drake had sent earlier.

The moment he stepped out, he saw Drake sitting on the cottage steps beside a plainly dressed girl.

"Well, well, Mr. Frost—didn't you swear off women? And here you are, sitting shoulder to shoulder with one," Rowan teased.

Drake shot his best friend a death glare. The instant he stood up, his vision went dark, and he almost lost balance.

From beside him came a soft click of the tongue, faint but mocking—like she was laughing at how weak he was.

"You brat!" Drake started, and anger flared.

But when he looked down, he realized Venus wasn't even paying attention to him.

"Wow, this tastes amazing," she muttered. "I'll get more later."

All words died on Drake's tongue.

He got into the car, face dark as night.

Rowan leaned toward Venus with a grin. He enthusiastically offered, "Hey, pretty girl, want a ride?"

Before she could answer, Drake cut in sharply, "Drive."

"Come on, don't be so cold," Rowan said with a pitiful look. "It's dangerous leaving a girl alone out here in the woods."

Drake scoffed inwardly.

A girl who eats offerings meant for the dead? The dead would be the ones scared of her.

Under Drake's icy glare, Rowan finally gave up. "Sigh. Alright, alright," he said, starting the engine. "Hey, girl, we'll get going. It's getting dark. You should be leaving the mountain soon."

Venus smiled sweetly. "You'll be back."

Neither of them understood what she meant—until 30 minutes later. What should've been a quick drive down the hill stretched into over an hour. They were still circling the same dark road.

Rowan glanced at the endless stretch of darkness around them. His scalp tingled. "Dude, this is creepy. Don't tell me we're stuck in some kind of spirit trap."

Drake's sharp features were hidden under a layer of frost.

"There's no such thing as ghosts. The world doesn't work that way."

Rowan groaned. "Yeah, I know you don't believe in that stuff, but seriously, doesn't this feel exactly like one of those stories where people drive in circles forever? I swear I didn't take a wrong turn!"

Drake frowned, his mind flashing back to what Venus had said earlier.

"Turn around," he ordered. "Go back."

They retraced their path, headlights cutting through the fog. Then, out of nowhere, the beam caught something up ahead. Venus. She was standing in the dark, calmly gesturing in the air, talking to something that wasn't there.

Rowan was on the verge of tears. "Why do I feel like she's the scariest one here? Who is she even talking to?"

Venus had just asked the nearby wandering spirits and learned that the cottage had been abandoned for years. No one had set foot there. No one named Skylor had ever come.

After thanking the spirits politely, she picked up the gifts they'd left her and walked toward the car.

"Mr. Hill, mind giving me a ride?" she said.

Rowan turned in surprise to look at Drake in the back seat. "Wait—you told her about me?"

Venus smoothly opened the passenger door and got in.

Rowan leaned over with a grin. "So, what's your deal with Drake? I've never seen you before, but somehow you know my name."

Venus smiled without answering.

Rowan had been Drake's best friend since childhood.

She knew him because, after Drake's death, his restless spirit had appeared in Rowan's dreams over and over. Drake's spirit terrified him so much that Rowan would eventually come to her for help.

Venus leaned back and closed her eyes. Drake did the same. Neither spoke.

The car was filled with quiet tension. Rowan could only drive in silence.

Ever since Venus got into the car, the eerie phenomenon disappeared; they stopped driving in circles. Thirty minutes later, they made it safely down the mountain.

When Venus opened her eyes again, the car was parked outside the Burn Mansion.

The sight of the familiar mansion and Neil standing at the gate told her exactly who to blame.

"Who told you to bring me back here?" she asked coldly, her gaze as sharp as ice.

Rowan chuckled nervously. "I thought you looked familiar! Took me a minute to remember—you're their adopted daughter, right? A month ago you came to my hospital to bring Dr. Burn lunch. I saw you then. Don't you remember?"

The moment he said it, Venus did.

Neil is a doctor. Every time he gets occupied with surgeries, he often forgets to eat.

Worried about his stomach problems, she'd learned a few dishes from the head chef herself. She carefully picked fresh organic vegetables, cooked his favorite meals, and delivered them to him.

Neil never ate them. He'd even thrown them away. Still, she hadn't cared back then. She thought her effort mattered more than the result. One day, Neil and her other brothers would understand her feelings.

That day at the hospital, Neil had lost his temper. He'd knocked over the meal she laboriously cooked. In front of everyone, Neil told her to get out.

She had held back her tears, crouched down, and quietly picked the food back into the lunchbox piece by piece.

Now she remembered. Rowan had walked by and helped her that day.

She'd been crying so hard she never noticed who it was.

Venus's face went dark. "I never asked you to bring me here."

"Dr. Hill." Neil stepped forward and gave Rowan a polite smile. "Thanks for bringing her back."

Rowan grinned. "We're colleagues. No need to thank me. But if you really want to repay me, cover my shift on the 18th."

What? The 18th!

Neil shot Venus an angry look. He had plans that day—plans ruined now because of her.

What a troublemaker.

"Get out of the car," he said coldly.

Venus climbed down and walked away from the mansion.

Rowan warned Neil out of kindness. "Your sister seems off."

"Why do you say that?" Neil asked with a frown.

Rowan pointed at the bag Venus carried. "When I found her out in the wilderness, she was eating food left for the dead."

He said it as a joke. "Are your parents starving her? Is that why she has to eat those?"

Neil's face went grim at once. He didn't answer Rowan. He strode after Venus.

"Venus, stop."

Neil grabbed the plastic bag. He pulled too hard, and the bag tore, the food spilling across the ground.

The items were clearly grave offerings. Neil's expression grew darker, as if the past had come rushing back. "Did we treat you so poorly that we drove you to steal food from graves?" he snapped.

"You've shamed me as your brother!" he continued. "A daughter from a rich family is actually stealing food from the dead. If this gets out, everyone in Zrebert will laugh at us.

"You never change," he added, scolding. "Of all things to steal—food for the dead—"

Slap!

Before Neil could finish, Venus slapped him hard across the face.