The Library Fire, Saving The Arsonist

To save Grayson Wilde from the fire, I inhaled too much smoke and became a vegetable.

Grayson swore to my parents that he would take care of me forever.

Once he gained their trust, he slowly drained my family's fortune.

Then, he personally pulled the plug on my oxygen.

Only after my death did I learn the truth about that fire.

It happened because his obsession, Cora, said one thing. "Looking at those books gives me a headache. I wish a fire would just burn them all away."

Reborn into this life, I didn't hesitate to point out the arsonist to the police.

"Oh my God, the library is on fire! Everyone, run!"

"Is everyone out? Who's still in there?"

"Professor, I think Grayson Wilde is still inside!"

The chaotic screams filled my ears until someone grabbed my arm. "Lyra Vance, where's Grayson? Is he in there?"

I finally snapped back to reality.

This was the scene of the library fire during our senior year.

"No," I said without a single doubt.

I looked at the building as smoke billowed out. A cold smile touched my lips.

In my previous life, I threw myself into those flames to save him.

I ended up as a living corpse, rotting in a hospital bed for ten years.

Do you know how agonizing that was? I could hear my parents' desperate pleas and their constant crying.

But I couldn't wake up.

Day after day, year after year.

Grayson, as my boyfriend, knelt before my parents. He promised to guard me for the rest of his life.

I was so moved back then. I thought I hadn't saved the wrong person. I thought he loved me.

After winning my parents' trust, he played the devoted boyfriend in public. In private, he tormented my body and mocked me relentlessly.

"Lyra, you probably don't know this, but I truly despise you. If it wasn't for your family's money, who would play house with a vegetable?"

"Your parents have already handed the company over to me. Soon, I'll finally be with her."

"I should really thank you. If you hadn't been stupid enough to run into that fire, I never would have reached these heights."

I lay on that bed, wishing I could crawl up and slap him. I wanted to scream at him to get out. I wanted to ask why he was doing this to me.

Then, Grayson personally disconnected my oxygen mask.

After I died, my soul followed him. I saw his True Love.

I learned that the fire was started just to please her.

"I hate studying. I wish the library would burn down so I never have to do homework again."

I was the only fool who rushed in to save him, ruining myself and my family.

Shortly after my death, Grayson took full control of the company.

He framed my father. He gave my mother a heart attack with his cruelty.

My mother died in the hospital, and my father jumped from a building in total despair.

It was all my fault for being blind.

By the time the firefighters put out the flames, the library was nothing but a charred skeleton.

The only difference this time was that no one was hurt.

As for Grayson, I knew his secret.

He had planned his escape route perfectly before starting the fire. Even without me, he wouldn't have died.

"Professor, this fire looks intentional. It spread way too fast," I suggested.

The professor's face paled. He asked if I had seen anyone suspicious.

"Well..." I pretended to hesitate, but someone interrupted me.

"Lyra! You knew I was in the library! Why did you tell everyone I wasn't there? Do you have any idea how close I came to dying?"

A dark, masculine voice rang out. I turned toward the sound.

I almost burst out laughing.

Grayson's thick, short hair was burnt to a crisp. He had burns all over his body and looked absolutely pathetic.

Everyone's eyes landed on me.

I widened my eyes, and tears immediately spilled over as I rushed toward him.

As I lunged, I aimed right for his fresh burns and pressed down hard.

"Grayson! Are you okay? Why were you in there? Didn't you tell me you were going to your off-campus part-time job?"

Grayson hissed in pain, but I didn't let go.

I fumbled over his injuries, using every bit of my strength.

I remembered.

In my last life, he lied about the job to sneak in and set the fire.

I only went in because someone in the crowd yelled that he was still inside.

Grayson froze, realizing what I was asking.

I made sure to speak loudly. "You weren't at work. Why were you at the library?"

I knew this wouldn't prove everything yet. But planting a seed of doubt in everyone's mind was enough.

Grayson had a script ready, but my interruption had rattled him.

"It was for you," he said, his voice dropping into a fake, tender tone. "You mentioned you couldn't find a seat lately. I came early to save a spot for you."

He reached out to stroke my hair with a charred hand. I stepped back, avoiding him.

Get your filthy, soot-covered hands off me.

You make my skin crawl.

His excuse was clever. Everyone knew we were a couple. Saving a seat for a girlfriend seemed perfectly normal.

But Grayson forgot one thing. I never studied at the library. I had my own private penthouse off-campus.

Maybe he didn't forget. Maybe he just didn't care.

In his mind, I was a puppet who would agree with anything he said. Even a lie this pathetic would usually work on me.

But that was fine. I had plenty of time.

The school eventually ruled the fire as an accident. The official report blamed a short circuit caused by rats chewing through the wiring.

The school wasn't wrong. But what if the rats were placed there by a human?

Right after the investigation, I begged my advisor for a leave of absence.

Including my past life, it had been ten years since I last saw my parents.

When I hugged my mom and cried like a baby, she just laughed and said I was still a kid.

"I told you she couldn't handle being away from us. Honey, why don't I just move into your penthouse to take care of you?"

I shook my head, noticing my dad's face was as dark as coal.

Finally, my dad asked if I was being bullied at school.

My nose stung with unshed tears.

It was so good to see them again.

After dinner, my dad asked about the fire. I brushed it off with a few vague comments.

Then I remembered something else I needed to handle at home.

"Dad, remember that student I asked you to sponsor? Stop the payments. Send that money to foster kids in the countryside instead."

My father didn't ask questions. He just told his secretary to get it done.

During all of this, I ignored every single text from Grayson.

I opened the university's anonymous confession page. Every night at seven, a secret admirer posted a message to Cora Jenkins.

It had been happening since freshman year.

Everyone was gossiping about who this pathetic loser was.

"Is this guy crazy? Cora is a rich heiress. He thinks he stands a chance? What a delusional creep."

"Anyone who only posts anonymously is either broke or ugly."

I knew exactly who it was.

It was my boyfriend, Grayson Wilde.

I remembered how we met. It was during a debate competition.

I was on the affirmative side, and he was on the negative.

The topic was whether love requires material wealth to survive.

The result? My side lost miserably. He won.

That was when I noticed him.

His denim jacket was faded from too many washes, but there wasn't a hint of insecurity in his eyes. He claimed that everyone is equal in the face of love and that money can't buy it.

Later, we started interacting more. We debated and studied together.

His knowledge wasn't what attracted me.

It was the brokenness in his eyes.

Grayson grew up in an orphanage. His tuition was paid through student loans.

When he spoke about it, he wasn't ashamed. He told me, "I want to work hard so there are fewer people like me in this world."

He was struggling himself, yet he still wanted to help others.

It was enough to make me fall for him.

I was the one who chased him. My friends warned me not to be impulsive, but I just laughed and said they didn't understand true love.

Looking back, I was the real clown.

Grayson's target had been me from the very beginning.

He had carefully crafted an image of exactly what I liked. He lingered near me, acting conflicted and shy, as if he didn't dare to approach me.

But I was never his goal.

His goal was my dear cousin, Cora Jenkins.

Actually, Cora and I weren't even blood-related. I only found out they were involved after I became a ghost in my previous life.

Grayson had hidden her very well.

Cora was adopted, but my aunt loved her so much that she introduced her as the second Vance daughter.

In reality, I only had one true cousin.

She was far away in London, which allowed Cora to play her little games.

Grayson and Cora grew up in the same orphanage. They were childhood sweethearts.

Cora was arrogant. she hated being around poor people and would never admit to knowing Grayson publicly.

Even so, Grayson was hopelessly obsessed with her.

In a way, I really couldn't compete with her. I didn't have her talent for manipulation.

She had my aunt wrapped around her finger, which was why my real cousin was forced to move to London.

Cora's favorite hobby was playing the moral saint.

The morning after I told my dad to stop Grayson's funding, she stormed into my classroom.

"Lyra, how could you do something so cruel?"

Without a word of greeting, she started accusing me with a look of utter heartbreak.

"I always thought you were a kind person. Do you realize you might have ruined someone's entire future?"

Her words were so dramatic that people probably thought I'd committed a crime.

Class had just ended. Everyone was about to leave.

But Cora's outburst made the whole room go silent.

I swear, if I gave these people popcorn, they'd sit there all day.

"How exactly did I ruin someone's life?"

I rolled my eyes right at her face. I knew she was here to complain about Grayson losing his funding.

After we started dating, I felt bad for him. I thought he was under too much pressure with school and work.

So, I arranged for him to be sponsored. To save his pride, I kept it a secret.

Now that I think about it, since they were old friends, Grayson must have known the whole time.

Every time he acted poor in front of me, I'd soften up and ask my dad for more money.

What kind of student needs five thousand dollars a month just for living expenses?

Cora was bold enough to make a scene, but she wouldn't dare tell everyone I was the one paying for Grayson.

So, she just stuck to the general topic.

She asked why I was revoking a poor student's scholarship.

She stood on her moral high ground, hoping the crowd would turn against me.

I looked at her with a mock smile. "If you're so saintly, why don't you sponsor him yourself?"

Despite my aunt's favoritism, Cora didn't have access to unlimited cash. She got an allowance like anyone else. My funding for Grayson came from my own savings.

Unlike me, Cora loved to play the big spender. She was always paying for everyone's drinks and meals.

She didn't have a penny left to help Grayson.

In fact, I bet most of the money I gave Grayson ended up in Cora's designer handbags.

Cora argued with me for a bit, but realized she was losing the verbal battle.

Two perfect tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Lyra, I'm just trying to tell you that charity isn't a game. You shouldn't treat people like stray dogs you can just toss away. If you had helped him finish school, he would have been so grateful to you."

I heard a snort from the crowd. Someone called Cora a self-righteous martyr.

Good. At least some people here had brains.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a familiar figure outside the door. I changed my tune immediately.

"Yeah, so what if I treat him like a beggar? He keeps his hand out for cash but never says thank you. Why should I keep funding a person like that?"