She Wanted Everyone to Remember Her Birthday, So I Let Them Remember It Forever Chapter 01
One hour before the final inspection and handover of my new apartment, my neighbor Ophelia Hastings, who called herself everyone’s favorite, dropped a livestream link into the owners’ group chat.
“I had the property management change every door lock in this building to my birthday. From now on, whenever you come home, you’ll think of me!”
In my past life, I immediately called the police and contacted the manufacturer to reset the system, preventing the entire building from being left wide open.
Then Ophelia’s account got banned and she was put under investigation because of it. My fiancé cornered me in our future home, his eyes bloodshot as he interrogated me.
“Ophelia just wanted to make a video showing how much everyone loves her. Why did you have to ruin her? If you hadn’t stuck your nose, why would she have slit her wrists?”
Later, they locked me inside the walk-in closet that had just undergone ozone sterilization, watching me slowly suffocate to death.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the exact moment Ophelia shared that live stream link.
I checked my lock’s app. I had already revoked the property management’s access half an hour ago, so remote password changes were completely disabled. With a swipe, I left the owners’ group chat.
Since everyone was perfectly fine risking the security of the entire building, I hoped they enjoyed keeping their doors wide open.
***
Right after I left the group, my fiancé, Chad Wellington, called. Ophelia’s live stream cover was still flashing on my screen.
She was standing by the elevators of Building 18 in a white dress, holding up her phone with a sweet, sugary smile.
“Today is the first day of handovers for Building 18. I want everyone to remember my birthday forever.”
The next second, she pointed the camera at the lock of unit 1802 and typed in a six-digit code.
With a beep, the door clicked open.
The group chat exploded with praise.
[Ophelia, you’re absolutely hilarious!]
[A single birthday password for the whole building. Now that’s what I call a close-knit neighborhood.]
[Coming home will make me think of Ophelia every day. It’s so meaningful.]
I looked down at the lock backend on my phone.
[Current Mode: Independent Owner Management. Temporary property management permissions revoked. Password modification function disabled.]
Seeing that red notification sitting quietly on the screen, I finally relaxed my clenched fists.
In my past life, the moment I saw Ophelia unlocking other people’s homes on stream, I called the police and contacted the manufacturer to revoke access, keeping everyone’s life savings from becoming an open-door exhibition.
And what did that get me in return?
After Ophelia’s account was banned, Chad accused me of destroying her dreams of becoming an influencer, and the neighbors claimed I was making a big deal out of nothing, delaying their final inspections.
In the end, I died right inside the closet of my own house.
As the pungent smell of ozone choked my throat, the only things I could hear from outside the door were their curses.
“Ophelia was just playing a harmless joke. You’re the one who took it too far and drove her to suicide! Apologize right now!”
Thinking back to my past life, I let out a cold laugh. Whoever wanted to play along with Ophelia this time could go right ahead, but I was done saving them.
The phone kept ringing. I pressed answer, and Chad’s voice immediately blasted through the speaker.
“Patricia, what’s wrong with you? Ophelia was just playing a joke. Why did you leave the group chat?”
I leaned back against the sofa, watching the live stream as Ophelia successfully unlocked yet another apartment.
“I don’t like people playing jokes with my house security.”
“Don’t be so dramatic,” Chad snapped impatiently, “Property management said it’s fine. They’ll change it back after the inspection tonight.”
“Modifying owners’ lock permissions without authorization and leaking security information on a live stream is a major liability if anything happens.”
He let out a scoff. “You’re just some furniture maker. What do you know about high-tech? Ophelia has a huge following. She’s helping promote the neighborhood. Everyone’s grateful to her. You’re the only one who has a problem with it.”
I remained silent, which only fueled his anger.
“Get back in that group right now, apologize to Ophelia, and send a cash gift to smooth things over. She almost started crying on her livestream because of you leaving the group.”
