Last Month of My Life – Chapter 2

Unable to sleep from the freezing cold, I decided to move around to warm up my body.

But just as I stood up, I saw a little beggar girl being dragged away by a man with his hand clamped over her mouth.

I couldn’t mistake that familiar feeling—the man was a human trafficker!

Without a second thought, ignoring the agonizing pain in my head, I rushed forward and bit down viciously on the man’s wrist.

I thrashed and kicked with all my might, but the difference in our strength was too great.

In the end, it cost me a broken rib to save the girl.

But I didn’t seem to feel the pain, bursting into loud laughter as I looked at the unharmed girl.

Yet as I laughed, the tears wouldn’t stop flowing.

No one, absolutely no one knew better than me which was a worse living heII: being trafficked or being a beggar.

Five years ago, on Corey’s birthday.

Just because of a tearful, slanderous lie she told: “Julian!

Chloe called me a fake, saying I stole the life that belonged to her, and she even wants to seII me to human traffickers!”

Coincidentally, the bodyguards caught a sneaky man in the backyard.

He insisted that I had bribed him to kidnap Corey.

I couldn’t defend myself, and my brother refused to believe me.

With red eyes, he raised his hand, slapped me hard across the face, and immediately handed me over to human traffickers.

“I thought that if I spoiled you enough, I could change the bad habits you picked up over the years. I never expected you to grow more unruly and increasingly vicious!”

“Before Mom and Dad passed away, I promised them I would raise you right. Since the soft approach isn’t working, I’ll just have to let you suffer a bit!”

On the very first day I was sent away, one of my legs was broken, and I was sold to the black market to do illegal labor.

I often worked grueling shifts for two days and a night straight without a single bite of food.

I was also sent to a circus, locked in a cage like an animal to be mocked by the crowds, living a life worse than a dog’s.

I had secretly called my brother, crying and begging him to take me home.

But his attitude remained resolute.

“I promised Corey that you must suffer for five full years. Only then will your temper be completely smoothed out so you won’t dare buIIy her!”

Corey!

Why was it always because of her?

From the very first day I was brought back home, she slandered me at every turn.

Yet every time, my brother would side with her, and I gradually became the wicked woman in his eyes.

Hanging up the phone, I broke down and cried my heart out.

After that, I never dared to hope for the family love I had been missing ever again.

I grew numb, letting them manipulate and torture me at will…

Until one late night, the box holding me was left unlocked, and I rolled all the way down the hillside.

Terrified of being dragged back, I didn’t dare show my face to find a job, surviving only by begging.

I painstakingly saved up a little money from collecting bottles, planning to get my old injuries treated at the hospital, only to be diagnosed with terminal brain cancer.

The little girl in front of me suddenly reached out to gently stroke my face. She wiped away my tears, draped half of her padded coat over my shoulders, and we huddled together for warmth.

Suddenly, a massive commercial screen in the distance began a broadcast.

[Mr. Bennett purchases a top-tier luxury mansion in Country M for his sister!

Valued at one hundred million Dollars! Truly a world-class philanthropist—the kinder the heart, the more prosperous the business!]

The little girl stared at the mansion on the screen, tilting her head up with wide eyes to ask me.

“Miss, does everyone get to have a home?

Then I hope both of us can have a home someday!”

I froze.

A home?

When I was little, the orphanage was a home for all the children.

After I was claimed by my biological family, that became Corey’s home.

Now, watching my life enter its final countdown.

I suddenly wanted to have a home that belonged solely to me after I died.