It had been a week since I was found and brought home. I was scrolling through my phone when I stumbled upon a confession post.

"Truth is, when my parents adopted me, I already knew their real daughter was in the same orphanage as I was. But I didn't dare tell them. I was terrified that I'd lose my new home and be left behind—to be molested by the director.

"Now that Mom and Dad favor me and treat her like trash, the guilt is eating me alive. How can I make it up to her?"

In my last life, I realized the poster was Gabriella Marquez—the one who had been living my life. Devastated, I dragged my crippled right leg out the door to confront her.

But that very night, she crumbled under the pressure and jumped to her death.

Mom and Dad blamed me for everything. They lost it, screaming that I should pay with my life. Only my adopted brother, Vincent Marquez, stood by me.

He took me away to live with him.

But he refused to take me to the shrink, torturing me every single day.

"You drove Gabby to her death. You killed a living, breathing human being with your own hands. You're going to spend the rest of your life paying for it," he said.

Eventually, I spiraled into a severe depression and jumped off the building, just like Gabriella had years before.

When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day I found that post.

The netizens thought Gabriella was just fishing for attention to build up an account, leaving all sorts of unhinged comments.

She kept updating the thread.

"Mom and Dad raised me for eighteen years. They couldn't bear to send me away, so they let me stay and live as their daughter's sister.

"The girl and I met when we were five, and we became best friends at the orphanage. But I was scared that if her parents recognized her, they wouldn't want me. So when her parents arrived, I tricked her into playing hide-and-seek and told her to hide.

"I tried to find her later, but she'd already been adopted. Her life has been tough. She's crippled now, skin and bones.

"I heard her foster family was trash; they beat her, screamed at her, and neglected her. They even made her drop out of middle school to fend for herself.

"Meanwhile, I grew up in luxury, having everything I needed. If I so much as sneezed, Mom, Dad, and my brother would anxiously call the family doctor. And I went to a top private high school. I really owe her an apology..."

In my past life, reading those words was what made me snap.

How could I not hate her?

On my first day back with the Marquez family, Mom hugged me and cried, while Dad—usually so stern—had tears in his eyes. My adopted brother Vincent gently stroked my hair.

We should have been happy.

But then Gabriella appeared.

She was wearing a beautiful dress and a diamond necklace I had only ever seen in advertisements—delicate and elegant, like a princess.

I instinctively looked down.

My right leg, crippled from a beating by my foster father, could barely support my malnourished body.

My cheap market clothes smelled weird from overuse, and there was black lint stuck under my fingernails.

Why did a thief get to live like royalty while I struggled just to stay alive?

I started to loathe Gabriella.

She had changed so much that I hadn't realized she was Abby from the orphanage.

After I got lost when I was five, a kind stranger had dropped me off there.

We were always hungry and cold. The director, Phillip Hoffman, was mean, but he was always kind to Abby.

Every time Phillip took Abby away to play "games" and brought her back, she would have a bag of snacks.

I wanted snacks too, so I asked her how to play.

She told me, "The game isn't fun at all. It hurts, and it smells bad. I can share whatever you want to eat with you.

"But don't get clean. If you're clean, Mr. Hoffman might force you to go play games."

I believed her, so I stayed unkempt every day.

Then, six months later, Abby suddenly wanted to play hide-and-seek with me.

By the time I finally came out of the closet, the night had fallen.

She had been adopted by a wealthy family.

Back then, I was happy for my friend.

But it turned out she had told me to hide simply so she could steal my parents.

When that bloody truth was revealed in my past life, I went insane and attacked Gabriella like a madwoman.

The commotion drew Mom, Dad, and Vincent.

When Mom and Dad learned that Gabriella was the reason I had been separated from them for thirteen years, they couldn't believe their sweet daughter could be so malicious.

Gabriella cried and apologized over and over, "I'm sorry, Cecilia. I ruined your life. I'm so sorry..."

Not long after, Gabriella jumped from the building and died right in front of me.

Mom and Dad, who had been furious at her deception, broke down the moment they saw her body.

Mom grabbed me by the collar.

"Gabby didn't do anything wrong. She was just terrified of what the director might do to her! She just wanted parents to protect her! Why did you have to expose her and drive her to death?

"Give her back to me!"

Then what had I done to deserve all that suffering?

At the best age of my life, I had been turned into a cripple.

To survive, I rummaged through trash bins for food. I wore the same pair of shoes from spring through winter.

Did dying automatically make her innocent?

I forgot how I left the Marquez's house that day. I only remember Vincent hugging me, separating me from Mom and Dad.

His embrace was as warm as his voice.

"Don't be afraid. You've got me."

But even his existence was something Gabriella had wished for—she had wanted a brother.

Vincent settled me into his apartment and wiped away my tears.

"You'll live with me from now on."

But Gabriella's death became my nightmare.

When I woke up screaming in the night, Vincent would hold me tight and soothe me softly.

"Don't be scared, I'm right here.

"I'll find a movie for you to watch. Just distract yourself and stop thinking about those things."

But scenes of falling in movies only terrified me more.

Vincent then switched to opera.

The soaring voices grated on my nerves.

I could only feel a moment of peace when I gripped Vincent's hand.

I relied on him completely, like he was my lifeline.

Love began to grow amidst the despair.

Yet my mental state continued to deteriorate, so I tried to save myself.

"Take me to see a psychiatrist tomorrow."

Vincent refused.

He leaned close to my ear and asked gently, "When Gabby died, her head was smashed open. Have you thought about how much pain she was in?

"Do you remember? She was apologizing to you right before she died. Do you forgive her in your dreams every night?

"Cecilia, you are a murderer.

"You drove Gabby to her death. You killed a living person with your own hands. You have to spend your entire life atoning for it."

It turned out Vincent didn't take me away because he knew I was innocent. He did it to torture me and avenge Gabriella.

So, this time, I closed the post and pretended I hadn't seen it.

I didn't want to be a sinner again.

I would use the Marquez family's influence to climb up.

Then, I would leave this place forever and live the life I actually wanted.

I was the only person I could rely on.

So, I went downstairs and told Mom, "I want to go back to school."

When I first arrived home, Mom had suggested I transfer to Gabriella's high school.

Back then, I hated her, and I was terrified of getting made fun of for my limp, so I flat-out refused.

But now that I was the one bringing it up, Mom was thrilled.

"That's wonderful. Now Gabby will have company at school.

"And Cece, you've missed so much schoolwork—Vince is a freshman in college, so he can tutor you. Just ask him if you need help."

Vincent was sitting nearby, watching TV.

At the mention of his name, he looked up.

He still had that gentle look I remembered.

But I wanted nothing to do with him, so I shook my head.

"No need to bother Vince. I can just ask the teachers."

Vincent lowered his gaze, his lashes dipping slightly. "Suit yourself.

"Let's eat."

Gabriella came downstairs and sat stiffly across from me.

As Mom set our plates down, beaming about me going back to school, Gabriella's face went slightly pale.

"It's good that Cece is willing to learn. I'll look out for her at school..."

I cut her off quietly.

"Mom, I can't eat celery. I'm allergic."

I'd discovered that the hard way while working odd jobs. Once, I was so hungry I ate a customer's leftovers, only to break out in a rash and struggle to breathe.

The terrified shop owner had called an ambulance.

Afterward, he docked my pay for disrupting business.

Mom froze, then hurriedly picked the celery out of my plate. "That's my fault. I'll remember next time.

"Here, Gabby, you eat it. You love celery."

But instead of giving it to her directly, she set the piece aside and picked a fresh stalk for Gabriella—as if my plate had contaminated it.

Mom picked up a piece of fish, carefully removing the bones, and teased Gabriella.

"You need a bite of meat after that celery, or you won't get a balanced diet."

The affection that should have been mine landed on Gabriella instead.

Gabriella watched my reaction cautiously.

I just stuffed my mouth with meat.

The imitation beef I used to eat was soft and lacked any real flavor.

It was nothing like this—firm, tender, and savory.

I ate quickly.

Suddenly, a pork rib was sitting on my plate.

Vincent had put it there.

"The ribs are good, too. Don't just stick to the beef."

I stiffened, not daring to touch it.

My mind immediately jumped to the worst conclusion. Was there something wrong with the rib?

My nose felt hot.

He was quick, reaching out with a tissue to wipe the blood from my nose.

I panicked, standing up and backing away.

The legs of my chair scraped harshly against the floor, drawing Mom's attention.

I stammered, "I'm full."

As I ran upstairs, I heard Vincent's low voice talking to the maid.

"Debra, Cece might be feeling unwell. Prepare something light for her so she feels better."

That was Vincent—always considerate.

Since my return, even without any real bond between us, he was always checking to see if I was adjusting, if I was warm enough.

That was why, in my previous life, I never suspected that his kindness concealed hatred.

But it didn't matter. This time around, Gabriella wouldn't die.

And I wouldn't have a mental breakdown and jump off a building.

Enrollment happened fast.

By Monday morning, I was set to go to school with Gabriella.

She came to my room holding an orange shopping bag with a backpack inside.

I recognized the brand from my food delivery days—customers wore them. Hermès. Very expensive.

"Cece, your bag is a little small. High school has a heavy workload, so your things won't fit. This one is new. You can use it."

Since the day I returned, Gabriella had found excuses to give me expensive gifts.

I used to think she was showing off, so I always refused coldly.

Now I realized it was compensation—guilt for stealing my life.

This time, I accepted it without hesitation, already calculating its resale value.

After all, money didn't lie.

Gabriella left, her steps noticeably lighter once she saw that I hadn't rejected her.

I carried the bag downstairs, ready for school.

As I passed the living room, Mom stopped me.

"Cece, you like Hermès, too?

"If you like it, Mom can buy you one, but you can't steal..."

She coughed lightly, softening her tone. "You can't take Gabby's bag."

I paused. "Gabriella gave this to me."

"Impossible. That limited edition is Gabby's treasure. She barely ever uses it. I once teased her about giving it away, and she cried."

Gabriella came downstairs just then. Hearing Mom, she hurriedly confirmed it.

"I did give it to Cece."

Mom didn't understand. "But don't you love that bag?"

"I..."

Gabriella stammered, afraid to speak the truth.

Her hesitation made Mom misunderstand; she thought I'd coerced her. Mom's face darkened.

Then Vincent walked over.

"Gabby really did give it to her. I heard them upstairs just now."

Gabriella nodded immediately. "Exactly. Vince can be my witness."

But Vincent had been downstairs with Mom the whole time.

Mom sighed. "You two are just too soft-hearted.

"Fine, let's drop it."

The matter was lightly brushed aside, leaving me branded a thief.

I clenched my fists and didn't argue.

Mom wouldn't believe me anyway.

They were Gabriella's family. Whatever I did was wrong in their eyes, so why bother speaking?

Later, I found a pawn shop and sold the bag for 200 thousand dollars, an amount I couldn't earn in a lifetime of hard labor.

Being treated as a thief was worth it.

School wasn't the nightmare I'd pictured.

My classmates knew about my leg and went out of their way to look out for me.

As a result, Gabriella steered clear, pretending we were total strangers.

I had no interest in stirring up drama about who the biological daughter was and who wasn't.

She took the front row; I took the corner.

We stayed in our lanes.

It stayed that way until the final bell. I hung back to ask the teacher a question.

By the time I walked out, Gabriella and the driver were gone, but Vincent was waiting at the gate.

"I told them to go ahead.

"Mom found out about you selling the bag. She's furious.

"Dad got back from his business trip and heard about it, too.

"Just admit you messed up when we get home. I'll speak up for you, and they won't be too hard on you."

I suddenly couldn't get a read on Vincent.

Given his personality, he should have been echoing Mom and Dad, tearing into me for selling Gabriella's bag. Helping me find a way out was completely out of character.

Had he been reborn, too?

Vincent reached for my backpack, but I instinctively dodged him.

"I get it. But I need to pick up some supplies, so you go ahead, Vince. I can take a cab."

I turned and hurried away, my limp breaking my stride.

It didn't matter if he had lived this life before or not.

This time around, he could protect Gabriella, and I would walk my own path. We would have nothing to do with each other.

When I got home, the air was thick enough to choke on.

Mom and Dad's expressions were grim. The backpack sat on the coffee table like an accusation.

Gabriella sat primly to the side, looking at me with guilt in her eyes.

I hadn't realized her attempt to make amends would trigger such a mess.

Mom was the first to snap.

"Cecilia, Vince and Gabby lied for you today, so I didn't expose you for stealing earlier. But how could you sell it?

"That is Gabby's most prized possession!

"If I hadn't seen it while shopping and bought it back, Gabby would be heartbroken all over again because of you!"

Dad tossed a debit card onto the table, his voice cold.

"The Marquez family hasn't fallen so low that we need to sell bags. If word got out, people would think we were mistreating our own biological daughter.

"From now on, I'll transfer your allowance to this card. Don't let this happen again. But you need to apologize to Gabby.

"You were in the wrong."

I didn't know how much money was on the card.

My options were clear—apologize, take the money, and keep the peace.

Or lash out, expose Gabriella, and prove my innocence.

It felt like a lose-lose situation.

So, I made my choice.

"I'm sorry, Gabriella. I shouldn't have stolen your bag and sold it."

I lowered my head, slumping my shoulders in submission, and picked up the card.

Pride and backbone had disappeared long ago, back when I was poor.

What use was innocence?

When I was starving, unable to pay tuition, or terrified of getting sick... those abstract concepts were trash.

Having money, studying hard, and fighting for my future—that was what mattered.

My attitude was sincere enough, and Mom and Dad's expressions softened.

"As long as you know you were wrong.

"Get along with Gabby from now on; don't let this cause a rift."

Gabriella looked like she was sitting on pins and needles. She couldn't even meet my gaze before she found an excuse to run upstairs.

Mom grabbed the bag and chased after her.

"Gabby, don't be sad. I checked it; it's not dirty or broken. I'll take you to buy a new one tomorrow to make up for it, okay?"

Her voice faded down the hall.

Calmly, I linked the card to my phone and checked the balance. It was more than I would have made selling the bag.

Not a bad deal.

Once I graduated and got into college, I could move out of the Marquez's house and live on my own.

Vincent blocked my way as I headed to my room.

"You clearly weren't in the wrong. Why did you apologize?

"It was your property; you had the right to do whatever you wanted with it."

I answered softly, "Vince, you were the one who told me to admit my mistake in the first place."

Vincent stiffened, pressing his lips into a tight line.

Just as I was closing the door, he suddenly asked.

"Cece, do you hate me?

"You seem to always be avoiding me."

"No."

I just wanted to stay as far away from you as possible.

I shut the door.

Vincent's face disappeared from view.

Because of the bag incident, Gabriella felt even more guilty.

I didn't accuse her or make snide remarks; I simply weaponized that guilt to make her tutor me every day.

I had fallen too far behind in my classes.

I preferred Gabriella to Vincent.

At least when I was with her, I wasn't afraid.

I powered through practice questions day and night.

In the blink of an eye, the SATs were just around the corner.

I wasn't sure what result a year of grinding would yield, but I had to try.

After several sleepless nights, I wasn't in good shape. My head felt heavy and dull.

I held on until the final subject.

Suddenly, blood poured from my nose, and a blinding pain hit me.

I tried to raise my hand to call the proctor.

Then, I collapsed onto the desk and lost consciousness.

I woke up in the hospital.

The proctor had been kind enough to call an ambulance.

The doctor looked at me with the most pity I had ever seen on a human face.

"Where are your parents?"

They were at Gabriella's exam site.

We hadn't been assigned to the same location.

After Dad and Vincent picked me up on the first day, I hadn't seen them since.

"They don't have time to come," I said. "You can tell me, Doc. I'm an adult."

When I was poor, I was terrified of getting sick. Now I had money, so I thought I had nothing to fear.

But when the doctor said the words "late-stage leukemia," a buzzing sound filled my ears, drowning out everything else.

I thought about the cheap rental I'd been living in to save cash, the clothes with a pungent smell I'd bought to keep me warm...

A wave of dizziness hit me.

I heard myself ask, "Is there a cure?"

"It's late-stage. We can try, but a bone marrow transplant is your only real shot. You can start chemotherapy for now. Every extra day you live is a victory."

I'd seen chemo patients before.

Shaved heads, tubes everywhere, hollow eyes.

It was the kind of sickness where money didn't guarantee survival.

I didn't know how I walked out of that hospital. Instinct took over. I called Mom.

But she wouldn't pick up.

I tried Dad's number.

And he wouldn't pick up either.

Finally, I called Gabriella.

She answered fast. The background was chaotic—laughter, someone complaining about how hard the exams were this year.

Through the noise, I heard my parents.

"Our baby girl is finally free! Let's go! Dad's taking you to your favorite spot to celebrate!"

"Look at the graduation gift Mom got you. It's that clover jewelry set you wanted."

"Hold on, Mom, Dad. It's a classmate on the phone."

Gabriella lied.

She walked to a quiet corner before speaking.

"What is it?"

"I'm at the hospital. I can't reach Mom and Dad. Can you tell them..."

"Cece," Gabriella cut me off.

"For over a year, I've stepped back for you. Food, clothes, jewelry—you pick first, I take the scraps. I even gave up our weekly family days so they would take you out.

"But today isn't just about exams; it's my coming-of-age party. It matters. Can't you let me have our parents for just one day?

"I know you're supposed to be in the exam hall, so don't lie to me.

"Please, I'm begging you."

The line went dead.

Gabriella was an orphan. She didn't have a birthday of her own, so she hijacked mine.

I called back, but the connection failed.

Mom and Dad never returned my calls.

It was like they had forgotten I existed.

The tears I'd been holding back finally spilled.

I stared blankly at the four contacts in my phone until a notification popped up.

Gabriella had updated her social media.

She was sitting between Mom and Dad, wearing a birthday crown, beaming with joy.

Vincent stood behind them, his arms resting on our parents' shoulders.

The caption was short, "Happy Birthday."

Three hours and fifteen minutes had passed.

They hadn't thought of me for a single second.

Why?

I just wanted to live a decent life.

Why was I the one with the limp? Why was I the one who was sick? Why did I have to suffer while the thief who stole my life got to be happy?

I slammed the medical report onto the pavement.

I hailed a cab and went straight to the restaurant.

I was going to expose Gabriella. I wanted Mom and Dad to see that their "perfect daughter" was a despicable thief!

If I couldn't be happy, neither could she.

But I was too late.

They were already gone.

I went to call them again, only to realize Mom had sent a text thirty minutes ago.

"Cece, things got crazy today. We forgot to pick you up. We'll celebrate your birthday tomorrow.

"Dad sent you some money."

It was a transfer notification for 100 thousand dollars.

Then I saw Vincent's texts.

"Where are you?"

"The proctor said you went to the hospital. Are you sick?"

"Mom and Dad took Gabby to the movies. They probably won't be home tonight. I bought a cake. I'll celebrate with you."

I switched back to Mom's chat.

I stared at the messages and suddenly started laughing.

They took Gabriella out to have fun and lied to my face about it. Why couldn't they just tell the truth?

They just didn't love me.

The anger that had been building inside me dissolved.

"Forget it," I told myself.

I never got what I wanted anyway.

I decided to spend the rest of my life doing exactly what I wanted.

I blocked everyone.

I didn't go back to the villa.

I bought a ticket home.

The family that adopted me years ago lived in a small town.

My adoptive father, Jacob Baldwin, couldn't have children, so he adopted me to save face.

But he was an alcoholic, a gambler, and an abuser.

Whenever things went south, he took it out on me and his wife, Luella Baldwin.

"You eat my food, you drink my water! I'll beat you if I want! You take it!

"Why is a useless thing like you in high school? Get out and earn money! I've fed you for ten years! Pay me back!"

Luella was timid. She swallowed her pride in front of him but acted tough with me.

"Why do you eat so much? Do you know how expensive meat is?

"Go wash the clothes! We adopted you to work, not to be a princess!"

Until one day, Jacob looked at me and said, "You've grown up to be quite pretty, you wretched girl. Hodge's wife just died, and he needs a new one. He'll take you for 4,000 dollars."

Hodge was a filthy old man.

I refused to marry him.

That day, Jacob broke my leg. He screamed that even if I was a cripple, I was going to marry Hodge.

Luella grabbed him and held on tight.

"Cece, run!"

I ran.

I lived on the streets for three years before the Marquez family found me.

Relying on memory, I walked through the darkness toward that single-story house.

Jacob was drunk and getting ready to go out and gamble.

Luella was trying to stop him.

From across the yard, I could hear her pathetic pleading. "That money is for the rent. The landlord comes tomorrow. Can't you wait a few days?"

"Get lost! I earned this money!

"I'll spend it however I want! Stop me again, and I'll beat you to death!"

I heard the sounds of a struggle, followed by Luella's quiet sobbing. Jacob stumbled out of the house.

I followed him silently.

Jacob played cards in an abandoned workshop in town.

To get there, you had to cross the dam.

The further we walked, the quieter it got. My footsteps sounded loud in the silence. Jacob seemed to sense something and turned his head.

I lunged forward and shoved him.

In the blink of an eye, he vanished into the water.

My chest felt tight, but I had never felt such relief.

I had avenged myself for two lifetimes.

I used to be so afraid of consequences. But now that I was dying, I had nothing to fear.

I pulled my hat down low and turned to leave, but a pair of shoes stepped into my vision.

I looked up.

Vincent was standing there.