Before the novel’s ending, I possessed a supporting character. Now, I am the younger sister of a villainess soon to die, two months until the execution. While visiting my elder sister, I often visited the rest of the villains.

“Didn’t you get better?”
“… What?”

In the prison I often visited to see my sister, the novel’s villains started looking at me.

“I’m asking if this wasn’t acting. Answer me, Margaret Eilish.”

The man’s words were beyond my expectations in such a dangerously intimate atmosphere.

I looked at the man from afar.

Get a hold of yourself, Margaret.

Nothing good will come out of revealing my illness in front of the guard.

I whispered back with a little confusion, pretending to know nothing.

“… Tell me what you mean. I’ll listen to you calmly.”

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