Second Bite

A searing pain tore through my gut, and everything went black.

I checked my phone and the fruit stand ahead.

After a split-second hesitation, I rushed over, started a livestream, and began frantically shoving mangoes into my mouth.

The chat exploded:

Is this guy insane?

Look at the owner's face!

What a way to go viral!

Viewers spiked. Someone called the police.

Ten minutes later, I collapsed on cue, foaming at the mouth.

In my past life, I was framed for raping and murdering a student.

My girlfriend Sophia gave police a video of me dragging the girl inside.

My own parents testified they heard screams from my room.

Twenty years in prison, I never understood why they did it.

Out of the prison, I was welcomed home by them with a feast.

Yet the next day I woke up to my corpse and the headline:

Liam Parker, Guilty of Raping and Murdering a Student, Committed Suicide at Home.

With a flashlight, I was back to the night of the frame-up.

This time, to get an ironclad alibi, I decided to eat my way into the ER.

That's why I'd put on a livestream and eaten mangoes frantically.

Let's see how they would frame me now.

As I lost consciousness, the live chat went from mockery to alarm.

Is he allergic? This isn't a joke!

Swollen lips, trouble breathing, hives breaking out all over Somebody call 911!

The fruit stand owner's anger had turned into stunned horror.

He took a step back, holding his hands up as if to ward off a ghost.

Sticky, yellow juice covered my hands. The taste in my mouth was a mix of sweet and bitter.

Only one thought burned in my mind.

Even if I die, I'm dragging every person who wronged me down to hell with me.

The wail of the ambulance siren was the sweetest sound I'd ever heard.

As paramedics rushed toward me, the fruit stand owner grabbed my hand, his voice trembling.

Kid, whatever it is, it isn't worth this.

If you die, I'll never sell another mango in my life!

His words were a punch to the gut.

Even a stranger showed me kindness. The irony was suffocating.

I gripped his hand back, my voice a desperate rasp.

"Sir, please can you keep the livestream running? All the way to the hospital?"

In the chaos, unnoticed, I slipped a small paring knife from his stand into my pocket.

The chat was a mix of advice and scorn.

Don't get stuck with his medical bills, old man! It's not worth it!

That owner has the worst luck in the world.

Wait isn't that Liam? He's my colleague, the quietest guy I know! What the hell is going on?

Seeing that comment, a sharp pang shot through my chest.

In my last life, the only people who ever believed in my innocence were my colleagues.

I'd been arrested right after work that day. I expected I would be released quickly.

But my father came to visit me in the holding cell, saying "Just confess, Liam."

"Don't be stubborn," his face was a mask of weary disappointment.

"As your father, I can't cover for you any longer."

I stared at him, completely bewildered.

The lead detective on the case, a man named Johnson, was a pillar of righteousness.

He'd grabbed me by the collar, his eyes bloodshot with rage.

"You animal. Do you have any idea she was just eighteen? She had just gotten into college."

The evidence against me was impossibly perfect.

It included a video provided by Sophia. She claimed it showed me kidnapping the girl.

The fruit stand owner hesitated, looking at my phone.

I clutched the phone tighter, turning my frantic gaze on the approaching paramedics.

"If you don't let me keep streaming, I'm not going to the hospital!" I screamed.

Two of paramedics moved to restrain me.

I pulled the paring knife from my pocket, my eyes wild with resolve.

"You come any closer, and I'll kill myself right here! "

The live chat erupted.

"WHOA! What the hell happened to this guy? He looks desperate. That look in his eyes isn't an act!"

"Liam is about to get married. He has a house, a car why would he be doing this?"

"Fruit Stand Owner's internal monologue: Oh god, that's my knife!"

A police car screeched to a halt. The man who stepped out made my blood run cold.

Detective Johnson.

His brow furrowed with a mixture of concern and authority.

"Liam," he said, his voice firm but patient. "Whatever's going on, we can solve it. Don't do something you can't take back."

The familiar words sent a shiver down my spine.

In my past life, this was the man who had personally locked me away.

The fruit stand owner rushed forward.

"Kid, I'll do it! I'll stream for you! Just please, put the knife down!"

Every eye was on me.

Clutching the phone in one hand and the knife in the other, I spoke, my voice shaking.

"I don't trust anyone. Stream this. All the way to the hospital."

The viewership had swelled to twenty million people. The owner nodded, taking the phone.

I finally let them help me onto the stretcher and into the ambulance.

The chat was already buzzing with conspiracy theories.

On the way to the hospital, the police identified me and contacted my parents.

My phone rang. It was my father. The fruit stand owner held the phone up for me, and I nodded.

"Liam, you are a complete disappointment, " my father's voice boomed, cold and hard.

"You might as well just die in that hospital!"

"Making a scene like this do you have any respect for me at all?"

"I'm telling you right now, you apologize publicly on internet, or you're not my son anymore!"

He hung up.

The chat was divided. Some praised my father for his strict morals. Others called him heartless.

Detective Johnson, riding with us in the ambulance, muttered under his breath:

"That's one hell of a father."

His words reached me. I turned to look at the detective. The truth was a burning coal in my throat.

But who would believe me? The man in that video looked exactly like me. The police had verified the video wasn't a fake.

And my own parents had confirmed the story. What kind of parents would frame their own son?

Detective Johnson caught my gaze. A thoughtful expression crossed his face.

I thought of that girl who had just started college.

I recalled the memories of the night she was killed and beckoned Detective Johnson closer.

I leaned in and whispered a few words in his ear.

Johnson shot up so fast his head hit the roof of the ambulance.

His face was a mask of grim seriousness. "Are you telling me the truth?"

I nodded.

This time, let's see how they frame me.

I lay in a hospital bed. The steady drip of the IV marked the time

Live chat was filled with comments like "Boring," "Just another attention-seeker."

But I had what I needed: twenty million witnesses.

The time on my phone's lock screen reached 8:31 PM.

The exact moment was a recurring nightmare.

In the video, that's when the crime began:

"I" dragged the girl through the door, started tearing at her clothes, spewing vile obscenities.

This time, I desperately wanted to prove my innocence.

If I'd had more time after being reborn, I wouldn't have resorted to such a measure, risking my life to make the scene.

I stayed in the hospital. Neither my parents nor Sophia came to see me.

The fruit stand owner, who had stayed with me, looked increasingly grim.

"Kid," he tried to comfort me, "maybe your families just caught up with something. Don't overthink it."

"What do you want to eat?"

Caught up with something? No, I'd already given up on them.

Right up until the moment they poisoned me, I had foolishly believed they were being threatened to frame me.

But they fed me the poison, had my body cremated and fed the media a story about my suicide.

"You can turn off the stream now," I told the kind man.

As he fumbled with the phone, it rang.

A sharp voice cut through the speaker.

"This is Detective Johnson. Is Liam Parker awake? Put him on."

I put on a small, cryptic smile and answered.

"Detective Johnson, I must be wondering how I knew what I told you."

"You'll have your answer in a few days."

I ended the livestream, leaving a torrent of questions and accusations in the chat.

The phone call was still connected. Detective Johnson's voice was tight with suppressed fury.

"If you knew this was going to happen, why didn't you stop it? The girl was only eighteen"

"Her whole life was just beginning," I finished for him.

It was the exact phrase he'd used on me during interrogation in my last life.

Wasn't my life just beginning too?

I'd just paid off my mortgage and car loans. I was about to propose to Sophia.

And they all betrayed me and threw me in a cage for twenty years.

Even then, I never blamed them.

I came out wanting nothing more than to live a quiet life with my family.

I never imagined they would want me dead and poison me.

"Detective," I said softly, my eyes starting to burn, "today is my birthday."

I hung up and looked at the fruit stand owner.

"Sir, I'd like a birthday cake."

He pulled out his phone and handed it to me.

"Here. Order whatever you want. It's on me."

"I hope from now on, you don't face any difficulties."

Last time, I was so busy with work that I didn't even remember my birthday.

And four days later my birthday, I was arrested.

The light in the hospital room was dim.

The fruit stand owner watched me eat, his eyes glistening.

"My daughter," he said, his voice thick with pride and sorrow. "She just got into college this year."

"She's out there delivering food to save me some money."

Hearing that, I suddenly stopped eating the cake.

The girl who was murdered She had been delivering food to earn money too.

It couldn't be a coincidence.

"She must be a better person than me." I murmured, "Brave and thoughtful."

Late that night, after the IV was finished, I went home.

The fruit stand owner had left immediately after a phone call.

He left so hurriedly that I failed to stuff all the cash I had on me into his pocket.

I opened the door of my apartment. The room was clean and tidy, just like last time.

Sophia was in bed, stirring as I entered.

"What took you so long?" she murmured sleepily. "You must be exhausted."

She wrapped her arms around me. My body went rigid.

It was this woman's video that cost me twenty years of my life.

I leaned down and kissed her forehead just like I always did.

Then, I went to the bathroom to shower.

Later at night, as her steady breathing filled the room, I took her phone while she was sleeping

I slipped out and went to my best friend Ethan's house.

I handed him the phone. "I need you to back up everything on this to my cloud drive."

"Then install a tracker on it for me."

Ethan rubbed his eyes. "Liam? What's the rush? Did Sophia cheat on you or something?"

I ignored his question. "Five thousand dollars. If you can't do it, I'll find someone who can."

"I'm on it! I'm on it!"

He got to work while I crashed on his couch.

Around five in the morning, I took the phone and headed back, picking up breakfast for Sophia on the way.

Ethan's words echoed in my head.

"Dude, I checked everything. There's nothing weird on there. Don't be paranoid."

The next few days passed in a tense, quiet haze.

During these days, in a state of constant dread, I wrote a will and had it notarized.

Upon my death, all my assets are to be donated to charity.

On the fifth day, I was at work when Detective Johnson arrived.

In full uniform, he approached my desk with a conflicted expression.

"Liam Parker, you're a suspect in a rape and murder investigation. You need to come with us."

I calmly held out my hands to be cuffed.

My coworkers stared at me. A few of them shrank back in fear.

I didn't expect kindness from my colleagues anymore. It was already a miracle that my boss hadn't fired me on the spot after the mango incident.

Detective Johnson seemed to notice their reactions. He glanced at my manager's name tag.

"Mr. Clark, just so you know, we're bringing him in for questioning. It doesn't mean he's guilty."

Such were things he never said in my past life.

The city blurred past the windows of the police car

I calmly recounted to Detective Johnson everything my parents and Sophia would say, every piece of "evidence" they would provide.

"Detective, I have an idea."

"We can't figure out why they're framing me, right? So why don't we put on a show?"

"Livestream the whole interrogation. Maybe the real killer is watching."

They all knew I had an ironclad alibi for that night. And they knew Sophia's video was also considered solid evidence.

How would they react to the paradox?

The detective agreed on my idea.

We arrived at the station.

As soon as I stepped out of the car, a hand cracked across my face.

My father's voice was trembling with rage.

"You animal! I raised you to be a man, not a fucking bastard!"

He grabbed my ear, forcing me to look away from him.

"Confess right now and beg for the victim's forgiveness!"

I followed his gaze, and my blood ran cold.

The man standing there it was the fruit stand owner.

But in my last life, I never met the victim's family.

He looked at me with an unreadable expression.

The man stepped forward, placing himself between me and my father.

The official police department livestream had just gone live, and the chat was already a chaotic mess.

"The Mango Man story continues? Why are they at a police station?"

"HOLY SHIT, this stream is from an official government account!"

"Does the fruit stand owner look like he's been crying for days? Did this man trash his stand again?"

Interestingly, the moment my parents saw the cameras, they instinctively flinched away.

"This case is full of contradictions," Detective Johnson announced, his voice carrying an official weight.

"I do not believe Liam Parker is the killer. I can't disclose the details at this time."

My mother pushed forward, dramatically wailing.

"Oh, the sin of it all! I heard the poor girl screaming that night!"

"But I was a coward! I didn't say anything. I couldn't believe my son did it!"

Sophia stepped up next to her, her face a mask of righteous fury.

"Detective, are you really going to cover for this monster?"

"You saw the video! He raped and killed that girl!"

Sophia and my parents were strangers to me.

After living through it once, I was able to remain calm.

In a steady voice, I asked the question I never got to ask last time.

"Mom, Dad, Sophia Why are you framing me?"

The live chat, swayed by their performance, turned on me.

The screen filled with insults: "Maniac," "Murderer," "Sicko."

Detective Johnson cleared his throat.

"The forensic analysis of the video is not yet complete. Furthermore"

I tugged on the detective's sleeve. The small gesture was at once misinterpreted by viewers that I had bribed him.

The chat turned on Detective Johnnson, too.

But they were confused when the fruit stand owner spoke up, his voice firm.

"I believe Mr. Parker. There's something else going on here."

The chat spiraled. Why were the detective and the victim's father on my side?

Just then, a man in a lab coat hurried out.

"Detective Johnson, the preliminary analysis is complete. The video is authentic."

The chat exploded with rage, demanding my immediate execution.

But I only asked one question.

"Sir, the video timestamp is 8:31 PM, five days ago, correct?"

The technician, caught off guard, nodded.

A connection sparked across the millions of viewers watching. The chat erupted.

"Five days ago? NO WAY! A person can't be in two places at once!"

"8:30 PM? Mango Man was in the ER! I WATCHED THE WHOLE THING LIVE!"

I let a smirk touch my lips and turned to my family.

"On the night in question, I was in the hospital having my stomach pumped for a severe allergic reaction to mangoes."

"So tell me, how could I have also been at home, raping and killing someone?"

Panic flashed across their faces. The cameras caught it.

My mother quickly recovered.

"I heard my son's voice with my own ears!" she insisted. "There's no mistake! Do you think I would condemn my only son if I wasn't sure?"

My father snorted. "You probably went to the fruit stand a day later and staged the whole thing to create a fake alibi. Stop the act, Liam."

He turned to the police. "Officer, I'm telling you, the man I saw that night was him. I swear to it."

I glanced at my father. "Dad, why don't you check your call history? See what time you called me while I was in the hospital?"

"Go fuck yourself! You've been a liar your whole life! I don't believe a word you say!"

He shot back, turning away without even reaching for his phone.

Sophia stepped forward again.

"Detective, the man in that video is absolutely Liam."

"Even the way he make love it's exactly the same!"

My breath hitched.

To protect someone I didn't even know, Sophia would say something so intimate in public?

Who the hell were they protecting?

The chat was hooked, but some were starting to think critically.

"Could this guy have known this was coming? Is that why he staged that whole scene on that specific day? To create an alibi for a crime he knew he was going to be framed for?"

"Holy crap, I think you're right. But a person can't be in two places at once. Someone is lying."

"Sure enough. Either the video is fake or the parents and girlfriend are lying."