1 On the day I covered my best friend’s night shift at the hotel. When a drifter reeking of alcohol came to book a room, my best friend repeatedly warned me to give him the room in the furthest corner. I figured the drifter might get belligerently drunk, so I followed her instructions and handed him that key. But the next day, I was cyberbullied and trending online. Netizens were screaming for me to pay with my life. Only then did I learn that a girl was already staying in that room. The drifter, given the wrong room number, raped her that night. Unable to bear the humiliation, the girl jumped off the building and killed herself. I tried to defend myself, but my best friend jumped out to testify against me: "I am the receptionist at this hotel. I testify that she was jealous of the girl's beauty, so she purposely gave the wrong room number to let the drifter rape her!" Blocked and hunted by furious netizens, I was eventually hacked to death by the girl's emotionally broken family members. After I died, my best friend married my husband, and they became a loving couple. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my best friend asked me to cover her night shift. "Front desk, get me a room. I’m staying here tonight!" The familiar voice of the drifter rang in my ears. I jolted awake, looking at the familiar layout of the hotel lobby. I checked the time displayed on my phone. In that moment, I was certain I had been reborn. Reborn to the exact day my best friend, Megan, asked me to cover her night shift. In my previous life, I agreed to Megan's request and followed her strict instructions, giving the drifter the room tucked away in the deepest corner of the hotel. It turned out that a young girl had already checked into that room. Because I gave the room to the drifter, he used the wrong room number to slip in and rape the girl. In the end, unable to bear the trauma and humiliation, the girl leaped from the highest balcony of the hotel, ending her young life. The incident blew up incredibly fast. That very day, I was doxxed and became the number one trending topic online. I tried to defend myself, saying I was just doing a favor and following instructions. But Megan, the best friend who caused me to issue the wrong room number, stepped out to accuse me: "I am the receptionist at this hotel, and Harper is my coworker. I am stepping forward to testify that she purposely gave the wrong room number because she was jealous of the victim's looks!" "To ruin a girl in the prime of her life for your own selfish, jealous desires—aren't you ashamed? I am disgusted to have worked with you!" Megan's words completely ignited the internet's fury. Walking down the street, I was mobbed by pedestrians. Ultimately, I was cornered by the girl's family and hacked to death in the street. And my husband? He firmly stated that I deserved to die and even provided a public statement asking the DA for leniency toward the girl's family, refusing to press charges. Furthermore, right after I died, before my body was even cold, he proposed to Megan. The two of them went on to live a happy, blissful life. Opening my eyes again, I was back to the day Megan asked me to take her night shift. Recalling everything from my past life, I knew I couldn't repeat the same mistakes. So, I firmly rejected the drifter's request for a room: "I'm sorry, sir, but we are completely booked for the night." 2 Hearing my refusal, the drifter at the counter snapped back with a disgruntled tone: "You screwing with me, bitch? I booked on your hotel app, and it clearly shows you have empty rooms. Why the hell aren't you letting me stay?" Saying this, he pointed angrily at the successful booking screen on his phone app. "I'm telling you, I'm staying at this hotel tonight. I don't care what anyone says, I'm staying!" The memory of being hacked to death in my past life flooded my brain. I clenched my jaw and said: "I apologize, sir. The app is experiencing a glitch. We are genuinely fully booked!" But the drifter wouldn't listen to my explanation. Relentless, he dialed the customer service number listed on the app: "If you won't give me a room, I'll call customer service and report your ass!" The call connected, and Megan's voice came through the other end: "Hello, how can I help you?" The drifter replied: "I booked a room on your hotel app, but your front desk insists there are no rooms and won't let me check in. I don't care, you need to fix this for me right now!" "I'm so sorry, sir. I will handle this. Please hand the phone to the front desk staff, and let me speak with her!" Following Megan's instructions, the drifter handed the phone to me. As soon as I said hello, Megan's scolding voice came through: "Harper, what is wrong with you? You can't just intentionally discriminate against a customer and refuse them a room based on their appearance! I'm looking at the system and there are empty rooms. Give him room 301!" At this point, I had no choice but to agree: "Fine, I understand. I'll get him checked in right now!" Seeing me agree, the drifter hung up the phone. But I didn't listen to Megan and give him room 301. Instead, I gave him room 312, which was very far away from 301. During the process, I pulled up the camera on my phone, making sure that my entire operation was recorded on video. After the drifter took the room card and left, I safely saved the recorded video. The heavy boulder in my chest finally dropped. Breathing a sigh of relief, I thought to myself: This time, the little girl's safety and my own life are finally secured. During my shift, my husband Tyler sent me several texts, repeatedly reminding me to work hard on my shift. After getting my replies, he seemed completely reassured, telling me he'd take me out for a big dinner when I got home tomorrow. Looking at his texts, I couldn't help but sneer inwardly. Based on everything I learned after my death in my previous life, Megan couldn't come to work today because she was busy sleeping with Tyler. He was texting me to ensure I couldn't come home and catch them in the act, and to make sure his and Megan's plan went off without a hitch. Married for three years, I thought we were a loving couple. Instead, he had meticulously schemed with my closest best friend to push me into an early grave. It wasn't until I died that I finally saw clearly just how badly the two people I trusted most wanted me dead. The next day, when it was time for the shift change, I packed my things and prepared to go home. Unexpectedly, the moment I stepped out of the hotel doors, a woman dressed in black rushed straight at me. She shoved me hard to the ground and, before I could react, slapped me fiercely across the face. Her expression was filled with grief and rage: "You vicious bitch! You killed my daughter!" "If you hadn't given out the wrong room number and let that vagrant into her room, how could she have jumped off the building from the trauma?!" "Go to hell! Pay for my daughter's life!" The sheer force of her slap knocked me back against the glass doors. My ears were ringing, my vision spun. Fighting to stay conscious, I saw that behind the woman were two burly men carrying the girl's dead body. Terrified, I scrambled to my feet and backed away. This woman was the girl's mother—the exact same woman who had hacked me to death in my previous life. The girl still committed suicide? But I clearly gave the drifter a completely different room number this time. Why was the outcome exactly the same as my last life? What the hell was going on?! I felt like my brain was going to explode! 3 Before I even had time to say anything, I saw my husband Tyler and my best friend Megan enter my line of sight and march right up to me. Tyler glared at me, his face pale with furious self-righteousness as he yelled: "Harper, how could you cause a young girl's death just because you mixed up a room number?" "How can you be so careless at your job?!" Just like in my previous life, Tyler couldn't wait to point the finger at me, desperate to brand me with this crime. I smoothed out the wrinkles in my clothes, staring coldly at him. "I don't even know what happened yet, and you're already in a rush to convict me. If people didn't know better, they'd think I was your sworn enemy, not your wife!" My words were direct and sarcastic. A flash of unease crossed Tyler's face, but not wanting to lose face, he doubled down aggressively: "It's all over the internet! I woke up this morning to see you trending online for giving out the wrong room number and driving a girl to suicide!" Following right behind him, Megan chimed in: "Harper, they've brought the body right to the door. Are you still going to deny it? The damage is done. You're better off showing a good attitude, trying to make amends, and apologizing. Stop being so stubborn!" I studied the two of them with a frosty gaze. The physical distance between Megan and Tyler was incredibly intimate; they were subconsciously leaning toward each other. Did they think I was a dead woman walking, so they didn't even bother hiding it anymore? Megan looked at me with a faint gleam of triumph in her eyes, looking at me like a defeated opponent. It was then I remembered—it was the exact same in my past life. In the subsequent media interviews, Megan firmly told everyone that I deliberately gave out the wrong room number because I was jealous of the girl's beauty. Her words had nailed the coffin shut on my guilt, leaving me no chance to ever clear my name. These two were so disgusting it made my stomach turn. I snapped right back at them: "The truth isn't even established yet, and you two are in such a rush to play internet judges with the online mob? Believing whatever the wind blows in, mindlessly joining the circus? Are you that desperate to step over my dead body and take my place?" My words made Megan panic. She hadn't expected me to confront her so bluntly. Seeing Megan's eyes turn red from my retort, Tyler looked at me with even more anger: "If you didn't do anything wrong, why would the victim's mother track you down? Megan is just looking out for you, and you're biting her head off! Since when did you become so unreasonable?!" I looked at them expressionlessly and countered: "I won't confess to something I didn't do. Stop opening your mouths and trying to condemn me from some moral high ground!" Hearing my firm denial of mixing up the room numbers, the victim's mother grew even more infuriated: "You bitch, you still won't admit your mistake? Fine, then I'll beat a confession out of you!" "My daughter just advanced to the finals of the International Piano Competition! She had a bright future ahead of her, and she lost her life because of your 'mistake'!" "I worked my fingers to the bone raising her, and just as things were looking up, you destroyed my only hope! I'm going to kill you!" She lunged at me, trying to choke me. I quickly pulled out my phone and shouted: "Because the drifter checking in was dead drunk, I was afraid something might happen. So when I assigned the room and checked him in, I recorded a video as proof that I did NOT give him the wrong room number!" "I can prove my innocence, but I am also calling the police. I suspect the people exposing me online are directly connected to the truth of this incident. Furthermore, since Megan insisted I cover her shift yesterday, I have reason to suspect Megan is associated with the vagrant and deliberately colluded to frame me!" Hearing my words, Megan's face went ghost-white: "I didn't! Harper, don't you dare slander me!" I gave her an icy glare: "We'll find out the truth the moment the police bring the vagrant here for questioning!" 4 After making the call, the police arrived quickly. Along with them was the drifter, wearing handcuffs. I sized up the drifter, then turned to the officer beside him: "Officer, I'd like to ask this man a few questions." The officer nodded, signaling I could proceed. I looked at the drifter and asked: "I clearly gave you room 312 yesterday, which is very far from the girl's room, 301. Why did you have the key to 301 and use it to enter her room and assault her?" This was the one thing I couldn't understand, the anomaly that persisted even after I changed my actions in this life. As I asked the question, Megan's expression beside me grew extremely anxious. It seemed this matter definitely had something to do with her. Faced with my question, the drifter narrowed his eyes, sized me up, and said nonchalantly: "I don't know nothing about no 312. I went into the room number you gave me. I had too much to drink yesterday. When I walked in and saw that woman, I thought it was my wife. What's wrong with sleeping with my own wife?" Megan let out a visible sigh of relief after hearing the drifter's words. She immediately turned to me and said: "Harper, what else is there to argue? The man himself said he went into the room number you gave him. If you really gave him 312, how could he have taken the keycard and opened the door to 301?!" "Just confess already. Stop wasting everyone's time. If you confess early, maybe you can get a lighter sentence! Look at how pitiful the girl's mother is—doesn't your conscience hurt?" The girl's mother became highly emotional upon hearing this. She rushed forward, wanting to hit me: "You bitch! The facts are right in front of you, and you still want to argue?! I'll beat you to death to pay for my daughter's life!" "You ruined decades of my hard work. My daughter died full of hatred before she even got to see the beauty of the world. You have to go down there and apologize to her!" She lunged forward to attack me. The police reached out to hold her back, and I retreated a few steps, holding my phone high and shouting loudly: "The video on my phone proves I didn't give the wrong room number! I assigned the drifter room 312, and I handed him the keycard for 312!" Megan fanned the flames: "Videos can be faked! The man already confessed he went into the room you assigned and opened it with the keycard you handed him! You're still putting up a dying struggle. Do you want the victim to have no peace?!" Sure enough, her words fueled the mother's rage. She became even more furious, fighting desperately to break free from the police's grip to get to me. My survival instinct kicked in, and I dodged toward a safer spot. During the chaotic scuffle, the white sheet covering the girl's body slipped down a few inches. My eyes were drawn to it, and I immediately spotted several sharp anomalies. While dodging the mother's attacks, I pointed loudly at the girl's corpse: "Didn't you all say she committed suicide by jumping? Then what is that?!" Everyone's gaze followed my finger. Upon seeing the sight, their jaws dropped in shock. 5 On the girl's corpse, there were deep strangulation marks around her neck, and the bruises of fingernails gripping her hands. "The ligature and strangulation marks on her neck have turned a dark, bruised purple. The marks on her hands also prove she struggled violently while she was alive. If she had such a strong will to survive, why would she jump off a building?" I made my judgment based on the physical marks. This was my crucial chance to clear my name, and I had to seize it. So I continued: "I request the police call a medical examiner to conduct an autopsy! We need to find the girl's true cause of death and catch the real killer so the deceased can truly rest in peace!" The police agreed to my request and immediately contacted a forensics team to wait at the precinct. Consequently, our entire group was taken down to the police station. After we finished a series of statements, the medical examiner brought the autopsy results into the interrogation room: "We examined the victim's body. There are multiple injuries on her hands and torso, indicating she suffered extremely brutal abuse before death. She was forcefully strangled by the perpetrator during a final struggle. Therefore, the fatal wound is the strangulation mark on her neck." "Furthermore, the head trauma and multiple bone fractures on the victim's body were all inflicted post-mortem! The skin tissue found under the victim's fingernails belongs to the vagrant suspect!" The medical examiner's findings proved my theory was correct. The drifter was the real murderer! Originally, raping the girl would have only landed him a rape charge, but with these autopsy results, he was now facing first-degree murder! The results shocked everyone present. The girl's mother was devastated with grief. She had thought her daughter committed suicide by jumping, never expecting that the truth was she had been strangled to death after suffering inhumane torture. The mother broke down. She rushed over and viciously slapped the drifter several times: "You monster! My daughter was only eighteen! How could you do something so cruel to her?!" "If this hotel receptionist hadn't fought to prove her innocence, my daughter would have died with a horrific injustice!" The mother then looked at Megan. As if realizing something, a fierce look entered her eyes. She marched over and slapped Megan across the face: "And you, you bitch! You kept stirring the pot, trying to pin the blame on the receptionist, using my daughter as a tool to spread rumors! Are you in cahoots with this vagrant?!" At this point, Megan couldn't care less about framing me: "I just wanted the killer brought to justice to give the girl peace! I don't even know this homeless man!" Her tone was frantic and panicked as she desperately denied any connection to the drifter. Right then, my phone chimed. A friend I had asked to run a background check had sent over the information. Earlier that morning, I had noticed Megan left her WhatsApp web session logged in on the front desk computer. It contained a chat log between her and someone named "Missy Kensington." One specific line stood out: "Don't worry, I will definitely eliminate your competitor and show you my sincerity!" This caught my attention. The timestamp of that message was right after the dead girl checked into the hotel. So, I spoke directly to the investigating officer: "I have a piece of evidence investigated by a friend. A few days ago, Megan was in contact with the daughter of local billionaire Mr. Kensington. Missy Kensington happens to be an International Piano Competition contestant, competing for the exact same finalist spot as the deceased girl!" "Megan wanted to curry favor with the Kensington family. Her 'sincerity' in pledging loyalty to the wealthy heiress was, I suspect, arranging for the drifter to assault the girl!" I handed my phone to the police, showing the video my friend had pulled from a nearby alley's security camera. It clearly showed Megan talking and exchanging items with the drifter.
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