Chapter 2

"What... what do I do?"

In the control tower, Tiffany, the air traffic controller intern, stared at the radar screen with a pale face, helplessly watching the two planes about to collide.

As the aircraft markers turned red and drew closer, disaster was imminent.

Unable to handle the pressure, Tiffany burst into tears, switched off her headset and collapsed into my boyfriend James' arms, refusing to continue.

"I'm scared, James," she sobbed.

In my previous life, Tiffany's arrogance led her to recklessly order a takeoff despite interference signals.

When the predictive radar blared urgent red warnings, the entire control tower was thrown into panic.

Hundreds of lives that could have been saved were lost due to the actions of Tiffany, an intern who didn't even have her official certification yet.

The incident made headlines, causing a huge public outcry. Everyone was waiting for our airport to provide an explanation.

To protect Tiffany, my boyfriend James didn't hesitate to use me as a scapegoat.

The team leader Henry also deleted all the control tower recordings that could prove my innocence, to eliminate any loose ends.

At the press conference, I was helpless to defend myself as the blame was pinned on me.

Facing astronomical compensation claims and prison time, I was brutally stabbed to death by grieving family members of the victims who had infiltrated the event.

In my final moments, I saw the hatred burning in their eyes.

Rage surged through me - I wasn't the one who deserved to die! How could this be happening?

Perhaps my unjust death moved the heavens. Incredibly, I found myself back at the moment Tiffany abandoned her post.

In this new life, I was determined to make these people pay for their sins and seek justice for my past self.

As the situation grew dire, I strode to the control panel, put on the headset and opened the radio channel to the pilots:

"Eastern 5195, go around. Previous aircraft has requested landing, climb and maintain 2100 feet on current heading..."

The chaotic control room fell silent as they heard my commands, holding their breath so as not to disrupt the rescue.

After prolonged communication and cooperation from the pilots, the red alert was finally cleared.

This time, the passengers who had died because of Tiffany in my past life would make it home safely.

I switched off the headset, saved the recording, and handed off communications to a colleague. Then I turned and yanked Tiffany out of James' embrace.

A clear handprint was left on Tiffany's tear-stained cheek.

I was furious. This slap was not just for my wronged past self, but for all the passengers and crew who had died in my previous life.

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