Chapter 2

On the seventh day, something happened in the group.

A member called “TheKiteGirl” posted a photo.

In it, she was wearing her work uniform, collapsed on an office floor. Several frightened coworkers stood around her.

She sent a voice message, sounding close to tears.

“Tara, I suddenly passed out at work today. My head hurts so badly, and I feel weak all over.”

“Should I go to the hospital?”

The group went quiet for a few seconds.

Then Tara spoke.

Her tone was unusually harsh.

“@TheKiteGirl, how many times have I told you? This is a detox reaction!”

“It’s a good thing! You don’t need a hospital. You need a quiet place to meditate and feel the energy flowing through you!”

“You actually want to go to a hospital?”

“Hospitals are full of sickness and polluted energy. They’ll contaminate the body you’ve spent seven days purifying!”

“I’m so disappointed in you!”

The girl replied timidly, “But my manager insists on taking me…”

Tara answered immediately, every word brimming with cold fury.

“Anyone with such weak willpower doesn’t deserve to stay on our journey of purification!”

A second later, a system notification appeared: “‘TheKiteGirl’ has been removed from the group by the administrator.”

The chat fell silent again.

A long time passed before someone cautiously tried to smooth things over.

“Don’t be angry, Tara. She isn’t spiritual enough. It’s her loss.”

“Exactly. We’ll keep purifying ourselves. We won’t let this affect us!”

Only then did Tara send another voice message, her tone softer.

“I’m not being cruel. We simply can’t let our energy field be contaminated. All right, keep posting your check-ins.”

I put down my phone, my heart hammering.

Here it was.

The exact same thing that had happened in my previous life.

I quickly took screenshots of the entire exchange, including the system message showing the girl had been removed.

Then I opened the “success stories” file Tara had sent me. “TheKiteGirl” was in there, too.

I copied her username and searched several major social platforms.

Nothing came up. She’d probably changed her name or deleted her accounts.

I didn’t give up. Instead, I tried different combinations of “fasting,” “passed out,” and “kicked out of group.”

Eventually, I found a post on a local healthy-eating forum. The author was “TheKiteGirl.”

Rather than ask for her number right away, I sent her a private message.

“Hi. I’m in that purification group. I think there’s something wrong with Tara, too.”

“I saw that you passed out today. Are you okay?”

It took her several hours to reply.

We exchanged a few messages. I told her I’d saved the chat showing her removal, and that it could serve as evidence of what had happened when she became ill.

She went quiet for a long time. Finally, she sent me her number. “Are you planning to stand up to her, too?”

I saved the number but didn’t call.

It wasn’t time yet.

I needed a bigger opening.

That evening, Tara called me.

“Stella, did you see what happened in the group today?”

I gave a weak hum of agreement.

“Don’t you dare follow her example. That was a textbook case of wavering faith allowing lower energies to invade. How are you feeling?”

I held my phone and answered weakly while watching a comedy.

Tara froze, then her face lit up with joy.

“That’s amazing! I knew you’d finally awaken! I’ll add you to the group right now!” Her fingers flew across her phone.

I watched her excited profile, feeling the real fullness in my stomach and the strong beat of my heart.

This was it.

This warm, living feeling. In my previous life, she had stripped it from me with her cold theories and heartless refusal to help.

But now I was back.

I was going to take back everything, including the “faith” she depended on.

In a voice calmer than I’d ever heard from myself, I said, “Sure. I’m in.”

Tara, I’ll play along this time.