Chapter 2

Suddenly, Mom's dream from last night and that strange village legend swirled in my mind like a kaleidoscope.

I looked at a photo on my phone, one where I was hugging Mom.

I understood then: Mom had given me a second chance at life.

Later, I found a new job I loved, but that day's events left a deep scar on my heart.

My new job was in design, which I loved, but I was lacking inspiration. So, I decided to move to a nice new townhouse.

The complex next door was newly developed, and the prices were incredibly good.

The night before I was supposed to move in, after signing the contract and finishing the renovations, Mom appeared in my dream again.

In the dream, her figure was far more translucent.

She looked furious, scolding me.

"Alex, why are you wasting money on another house? Buying this house now is a foolish choice!"

"How many times have I told you not to waste money? Isn't that penthouse apartment I left you big enough?!"

In the dream, her face was grim, her voice sharp as she pointed her finger at me.

"Cancel the contract immediately! We're not taking this townhouse!"

This was a side of Mom I'd never seen. Growing up, she'd always doted on me, supported me, and provided everything I could ever want.

She even said she'd disown me if I insisted on moving into the new house.

I was heartbroken in the dream, waking up with tears still in the corners of my eyes.

Day broke, and the moving truck I'd hired was almost here, but the dream from earlier made me hesitate.

Remembering the previous dream, my palms grew sweaty.

Was something else about to happen?

I put my moving plans on hold and didn't move into the new complex.

A week later, the arsonist was finally caught in the neighboring complex.

He was a madman seeking revenge on society, specifically targeting wealthy neighborhoods for arson and murder.

This time, he had set fire to a townhouse belonging to a wealthy expat doctor living alone. The man was eventually rescued but suffered extensive burns and disfigurement.

He was a trust fund kid, but no amount of money could truly compensate for the damage he'd endured.

I read the news, my heart unable to calm down.

The victim's townhouse was right next to the one I'd bought. If I had moved in then...

I probably would have been the victim today!

Mom had saved me again.

This incident solidified my belief in that old legend.

I even made a special trip to the cemetery.

"Mom, you've given me a third life."

I thought Mom would continue to protect me, but after that, she never appeared in my dreams again.

Not even when I accidentally scalded my arm with boiling water, or when I broke my left leg in a car accident. Mom didn't visit my dreams before any of those things.

My faith started to waver again.

Didn't they say dreams from deceased loved ones could ward off disaster?

Why wasn't my mom sending me dreams anymore?

Remembering how translucent Mom's spirit had been the second time, I wondered: did sending these dreams cost Mom something?

Until today, ten years later, when I brought a baby home, and Mom appeared in my dream once more.

By now, she was almost completely transparent, but she was desperately trying to shake me awake, her expression more terrified than I'd ever seen.

"Alex, wake up!!"

Then, with all her fading strength, she screamed:

"Run!"

My wife, Chloe, poured me a glass of warm water, soothing me gently.

The baby's cries echoed from the other bedroom, but I shivered.