Chapter 8
Lucia looked out over the glittering world below. Was this really the ending she’d wanted?
Even though she had chosen this path out of sheer exhaustion, an almost painful sense of regret clung to her at the very last moment.
“Oh… I see… The truth is…”
Hah… haha… Her laughter dissolved into the wind like a fading breath. Cold droplets tapped softly against her face.
Tap… tap… Was it snow? The icy liquid trickled down her cheeks.
“—! Stay with me! Don’t close your eyes—!”
A voice that should have been right beside her reached her as nothing more than a muffled echo.
The oversized coat draped over Lucia’s shoulders slipped from her body first, disappearing beyond the rooftop’s edge. As its weight left her, her frail frame swayed precariously.
Then another gunshot rang through the night.
“Ugh.”
This time, it wasn’t Lucia who was hit. The bullet buried itself in Killian. The gun had been aimed squarely at her, but Killian had thrown his arms around her, taking the shot in her place.
“Damn it…!”
Nothing about the situation made sense. A stranger had appeared out of nowhere and opened fire. At first, Killian had naturally assumed he was the target.
But now it was unmistakable. The gun was aimed at Lucia.
“Why… would you take the bullet for me…?”
“Forget that. What kind of life have you lived for someone to shoot you?”
There was no chance to answer. Both their feet had already left the rooftop. Their bodies tipped over the edge.
Killian reached desperately for the railing, but his fingertips merely scraped against the wall before finding nothing but empty air.
“Damn it!”
Gravity, which had seemed to pause time, suddenly reclaimed it.
They were falling.
The moment the word crossed his mind, its meaning became terrifyingly real. The freezing wind slashed across his skin like knives.
Holding Lucia tightly against his chest, Killian twisted his body in midair, turning himself so that he would hit the ground first.
Dong… Dong…
The clock tower tolled twelve heavy chimes, solemn as bells announcing death. At the exact same moment—
Boom!
A brilliant firework exploded across the sky.
“Hah…F**k.. They really picked one hell of a way to send us off.”
As if the whole world were mocking them.
Brilliant colors burst across the darkness. Unlike the desolate rooftop they’d left behind, the road toward their end was breathtakingly beautiful, like the final scene of a film.
Our Miracle Christmas!
Boom! Boom!
The greeting from Miracle Land bloomed across the night sky in fireworks. Bathed in the dazzling city lights, Killian accepted that this was the end.
Looking down at the woman in his arms, he quietly offered his farewell.
“Merry Christmas.”
* * *
It was a sensation Lucia had never experienced before.
Now she understood. Death felt as though her vision were dissolving into white while something gently pulled her away into the distance.
She tried to scream. No sound came out.
Fear seized her for only a moment, but as time passed, it gave way to an odd sense of peace. It was like surrendering herself to a gentle ocean current, allowing the flow to carry her wherever it pleased.
So… this is death. You can still think after you’ve died. The realization drifted lazily through her mind.
“To think you lack even this much refinement…”
A familiar voice suddenly tore through the current. It felt as though someone had grabbed her by the hair and violently dragged her soul back into her body.
“Lucia Everhart.”
Every instinct rejected the sensation. She held her breath.
Yet before she could resist, her senses awakened one after another as though rising from a deep sleep, and her eyes slowly fluttered open.
Wait… Didn’t she die? Then why can she smell tea…?
The soothing scent of bergamot gently brushed against her nose, calming the anxiety welling inside her.
“Everhart. Are you dozing off?”
When no answer came, Mrs. Lancaster’s voice sharpened.
“You can’t even stay awake through something as basic as bridal lessons, yet you dare dream of becoming the mistress of the Lancaster household?”
Bridal lessons…? What is she talking about? That happened… ten years ago.
Lucia’s eyes flew open.
The room was bathed in the warm orange glow of sunset. Across from her sat a woman she recognized instantly, yet somehow didn’t.
She looked impossibly young, her fingers tightening around a teacup as though she were on the verge of throwing it.
Lucia stared at her in disbelief.
“…Mi.”
Vanessa Lancaster. Her mother-in-law.
“M-Mrs. Lancaster.”
She looked far younger than the woman Lucia remembered.
And then—
“I never should have brought someone like you into this family…!”
Those words, she had heard once before long ago.
Lucia turned pale.
‘Did I die and end up in hell…?’
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