Chapter 2: The Past That Haunts Me

Because I don’t believe it.

I don’t believe that Savannah Reynolds, Mrs. Reynolds, is truly such a vicious and heartless woman.

……

I have a secret.

From the moment I was born, I carried the memories of my previous life.

I remember clearly who I was, whom I married, and how I died.

So, when I heard there was a Mrs. Reynolds in the mansion, I found every way I could to get a job here. I sent in applications, called old contacts, even faked a little experience on my résumé. Anything to get close.

Until, by chance, I saw her photograph.

Then I was sure: she was my daughter from my previous life.

I remember the day I died. It was raining.

Outside the window, the rain fell in a steady patter. It drummed against the glass, a slow lullaby for the dying. My hospital room smelled of antiseptic and wilted carnations.

My hearing was fading, but I could still make out my daughter’s low sobs beside me.

"Mom, don’t leave me, please don’t go… What will I do if you leave? Dad likes Aunt Linda and little brother, he never liked me… and now even you don’t want me…"

I stroked her hair, my fingers already weak. She clung to my arm, face blotchy with tears, her voice breaking on every word.

My vision blurred, and then everything faded into darkness. The last sound I heard was her hoarse cry—"Mom."

……

Late that night, I went to the housekeeper’s room.

I knelt on the floor, speaking sincerely: "Ma’am, I don’t want to die. Please, show me a way."

She took a sip of coffee. The scent of strong, burnt brew hung between us, mixing with the citrus tang of her perfume. "You agreed so readily this afternoon—I thought you weren’t afraid."

I kept my head lowered and didn’t speak. My heart was pounding, but I tried to appear calm, hands clasped tightly in my lap.

The housekeeper finished her coffee and looked at me. "Before Mrs. Reynolds married into this family, she was the eldest daughter of the Harringtons. Her birth mother died early, and after her mother’s passing, Mr. Harrington married his mistress. Later, when Mr. Reynolds was still just the heir, he happened to meet Miss Harrington at a garden party. After Mr. Reynolds inherited the estate, Miss Harrington naturally became Mrs. Reynolds."

The housekeeper paused. Her gaze grew distant, as if sifting through old memories. "When Mrs. Reynolds first came here, she wasn’t as she is now. She was reserved, but not cruel or vindictive… Later, Mr. Harrington died of illness. At that time, Mrs. Reynolds was already pregnant. She asked to return home for the funeral, but quarreled with her stepmother. Mrs. Reynolds fell and miscarried by accident. Mr. Reynolds was furious. The stepmother, afraid Mr. Reynolds would blame her son, took her own life that very night…"

I listened quietly. The room felt colder, shadows stretching along the wood-paneled walls. My mind spun, trying to match this tragedy to the girl I once knew.

After a long pause, the housekeeper finally said, "I don’t know all the details, but in short, Mrs. Reynolds doesn’t seem… very close to her family. When you go to her wing, never mention the Harringtons. After her miscarriage, Mrs. Reynolds has never had children again. Mr. Reynolds visits her less and less, and Mrs. Reynolds has grown increasingly withdrawn and difficult to serve. She’s unpredictable. I can’t give you any more advice, Allison. You must take care of yourself."

I knelt and bowed my head. My voice shook, but I meant it.

"Thank you, Ma’am, for your heads-up."

Leaving the staff quarters, I looked up at the sky overhead. A warm, humid breeze ruffled my hair as I stepped outside.

Tonight, the moon was full and bright.

In a daze, I remembered seven-year-old Savannah. She always liked to lean on my knees, gazing at the moon as I braided her hair. Sometimes, we’d sit out on the back porch, cicadas buzzing, the sticky Georgia night pressing in, her head heavy against my thigh.

"Mom, are there angels on the moon?"

"Yes," I smiled. "There are many angels living on the moon."

By then, my health was already failing. I could feel it in my bones, the way each breath seemed heavier than the last.

Each time, I endured the pain and tried to act at ease in front of her. I wanted her to remember me as strong, not fading away.

I knew I wouldn’t live to see her grow up. I tried to teach her little lessons, to help her be brave when I was gone. So I always tried to prepare her, to make our eventual parting less painful.

"In the future, Mom will also fly to the moon."

Looking into Savannah’s eyes, I gently coaxed her: "If one day Mom leaves, Savannah, don’t be sad. Mom has just flown to the moon to become an angel. I’ll always watch over you from the sky."