To the Man Destined to Kill Me - Chapter 51
“Andy, aren’t you bored?”
At that time, Scarlett was only 11 years old, just past her birthday. Andrew, sitting next to her, had his eyes closed and was silently reciting a prayer.
“What are you praying about? When are we going home?”
“Why can’t we eat snacks here?”
“Will my wish really come true if I pray?”
Scarlett now lay across the chair, twisting her body. Andy grabbed her hand tightly. Even though it was chilly in the fall air, Andy’s hand was very warm.
“A wish?”
“Yeah, a wish.”
“What wish?”
“Um…”
Scarlett shyly smiled.
“I want a mom and dad too.”
Andrew had to use all his strength not to show the pain on his face when he heard that.
“Do you still wish John were your dad?”
“Yeah, but I guess it can’t happen. Andy, maybe it’s better to be at the hospital. At least there, I can play with dolls.”
Scarlett didn’t know the results of the diagnosis she had received a few days ago. Even at Saint Bernard Hospital, the fifth place she had been moved to, they said she might not make it to adulthood.
“Andy!”
“Scarlett.”
“Yeah?”
“Just five more minutes.”
“You’ve already said ‘just five more minutes’ like twelve times.”
“Then be patient for the thirteenth time.”
“Sigh…”
Andy smiled faintly at his little sister’s sigh. He prayed on her behalf, for his sister who had no faith or hope.
Dear God, please look upon this poor soul, this pitiful child, and show mercy.
I, your humble servant, pray for her. Please give her the chance to learn love and practice it.
“Can’t we go outside and play?”
“When we leave, I’ll buy you ice cream with chocolate and candy. John and Susan never let you eat those because they say they’ll rot your teeth.”
“Five minutes. Just five.”
Scarlett closed her mouth and flopped onto the chair.
The prayer Andrew was saying was usually used when parents offered their children to God.
But Scarlett had lost her parents early and, unlike other children at Wifland, never had the baptism ceremony where she would be dedicated. So Andrew did it alone, on behalf of her parents.
He hoped that by doing so, God’s grace would allow her to live even one more day.
Your son earnestly prays.
Andrew White was a chosen one. It meant he had a special connection with Wifland’s God and, if it were the old days, he would have become a priest.
Because of this, he had the ability to receive and understand messages from God, through dreams, instincts, or visions.
Normally, people like him entered a monastery and served God for life, but Andrew had not taken that path.
Please help our family overcome hardships and stay together, and show mercy to Scarlett. Help my wounded brothers and sisters to know love according to Your will, give them the courage to forgive, and heal the wounds in their hearts. Above all…
The burning warmth in his hand was a sign that God was hearing his prayer and that He was with them at that moment. Andrew placed his hand gently on Scarlett’s head.
Heal this child’s sickness. I am too small to cure her, but You can. Heal her through love. Through love… Heal her. With love, with Your love, only with love…
Andrew’s hand was very hot. As his fingertips brushed Scarlett’s hair, heat radiated from him. At that moment, Andrew saw something.
“Ah…”
Maybe she was about eighteen or nineteen.
Though she still looked weak, she had grown into a beautiful young woman. He smiled with pride.
But not long after, a stranger appeared. Scarlett cried and tried to run away, but in the end, she met a horrible death.
Tears ran down Andrew’s cheeks. He was sure what he saw was a prophecy—a clear vision that only chosen ones could receive.
“Andy?”
“Scarlett… you can’t…”
Andrew sobbed quietly.
Not this child. Take me instead.
I will not wander anymore. I will serve You all my life. Please save Scarlett. I will dedicate my life to You.
The future could be changed. That was what Wifland’s God taught.
But the future shown by God was absolute. It was like the ancient tragedies where trying to avoid fate led to it happening anyway.
So that day, Andrew made a vow.
If Scarlett was given a chance, he would become a faithful servant and dedicate himself fully.
And that year, he entered the seminary to become a priest.
“It feels really miserable to ask this… but I need to know. Was I born because my mother had an affair?”
Scarlett looked just like her father, Alex White. Even a glance at his portrait showed it clearly.
So, when Scarlett said she felt like she wasn’t her father’s daughter, it was her way of asking to know the truth.
“You’re saying nonsense. And planning an affair?”
“I heard you talking with Mr. Nicholas. Don’t pretend you didn’t. If you don’t tell me, I’ll tell Susan, Aaron, and Scott what I heard.”
She showed no signs of backing down. John let out a short sigh and answered.
“What you need to know is, your father never loved Julia Ashford as a woman. Everything was set up for political reasons, and your mother was just the start of it.”
“Political reasons? What reasons? Why lie to even the family?”
“Because lies must be made into truth. The more detailed the lie, the more it becomes like the truth.”
Scarlett’s face grew darker at John’s evasive words. She spoke sharply.
“I asked what reasons. What happened?”
“…There’s nothing more you need to know or worry about.”
“So I’m just supposed to shut up and go along with the lie?”
“That’s the price of knowing the truth. But you won’t pay that price, so you won’t know the full truth.”
“…Unless you tell me everything, or I die, you won’t shut me up.”
“The reason I told you even part of the truth isn’t because I’m scared of your threats. It’s because I love you and feel sorry for you.”
A deep hurt spread across her face. She bit her lip, swallowing her pride but deciding to endure a little longer.
“Then at least answer me properly. Was I born early because of Noah?”
“I don’t know much. I’m not your mother. She was already weak from an old pregnancy, and she got even weaker after losing your father. Whoever planned everything, it’s true that it hurt her. But Scarlett, protecting them was meaningful. Still, you—you don’t have to forgive them.”
“What meaning? Why is it meaningful? Who are they?”
“This is as far as it goes.”
“John! You realize you’ve barely told me anything real, right? Who cares if Father didn’t love Julia Ashford? Why was I born like this? Is Noah Ashford really my brother?”
“He should remain your brother.”
“…So, we’re not real siblings.”
It felt strange. It was upsetting but also a little relieving. Anger boiled up along with a sense of freedom.
“What’s clear is… the adults never thought about the wounds I’d carry.”
While other people looked at their parents to find their identity, Scarlett had looked at her siblings, guessing who she resembled.
She didn’t know who she truly took after—because she had no memories of her parents.
All she knew was from passing comments that she inherited her stubbornness from her mother and her red hair from her father.
Scarlett remembered her parents through her siblings. She missed them without realizing it was longing. She didn’t even know the emptiness inside her came from that longing.
“There’s no way… Scarlett, don’t cry.”
Tears gathered and rolled down her cheeks. Her tears were heartbreakingly clear. When they dropped onto her hands, Scarlett wiped her eyes.
John couldn’t hide his sadness at seeing her cry. He spoke in a much softer voice.
“Our parents thought deeply about their love for their children and what they had to protect. They made a painful choice. I, who follow their will, struggle with it too.”
“Liar. I don’t believe you.”
Scarlett, crying silently, looked like a little girl. When she was with John, she unconsciously acted like a child. Her innocent soul made her seem much younger than she was.
John hugged his youngest sister. Even though she was grown, she still had the heart of a ten-year-old because he had always kept her sheltered from the world. He comforted her with complicated feelings.
“There, there. Don’t cry.”
It wasn’t that John wanted to lie. Carrying out their late parents’ wishes made him an accomplice to their sins, and he lived with heavy guilt. His conscience had rotted away from guilt, replaced by emptiness and sadness.
“You’re good.”
Good, Scarlett.
That was the spell that controlled Scarlett.
John was not just her brother. Seventeen years older than her, as the eldest, he had raised her like a father.
Scarlett saw John as a father, and John saw her like his own daughter. He scolded her, taught her, made big and small decisions for her—including her hospital treatments.
That’s why Scarlett was weak to John’s words calling her good.
It made her feel like she had a parent. Like she belonged to someone.
“You’re good, Scarlett. There, there.”
Even those few words felt like a spell, and Scarlett decided. She would keep silent about everything they talked about today.
That night, when Scarlett returned to the villa, she hugged Noah tightly as soon as she saw him. Before he could even be surprised, she whispered.
“I’m sorry.”
I’m sorry, Noah.
Even though it’s not your fault, I wanted to take revenge on you.
“I’m really sorry.”
After all, you took away what was mine. My father.
“What are you… talking about?”
“Everything.”
Just as I was sacrificed without sin, I hope you are sacrificed for your mother’s sins too.
“Are you sick?”
“I’ve always been sick. And I’ll keep being sick.”
So, Noah Ashford. You must live in the same hell as me.