Chapter 1

The ache in my skull hadn't fully faded when a shrill, all-too-familiar voice cut through my ears.

"Nobody in the world is better than a mother! What kind of mother doesn't love her own child? I'm going with Mom! A man like Dad just isn't equipped to handle everything on his own—there's nothing to be done about it."

The rising lilt at the end of her sentence gave away exactly how pleased with herself she was.

Dad's face went livid with fury. He raised a trembling finger and pointed it at Keira McKellen's face.

"You... you..."

He never managed to finish the sentence.

Mom, on the other hand—a woman who was rarely moved by anything—let a flicker of satisfaction cross her usually unreadable eyes.

"No surprise there. She's my daughter, all right. She knows how to read a room."

She'd always looked down on me for being too soft-hearted, and now there was even less room in her eyes for me, her older daughter. She didn't even bother sparing me a glance. She never wasted her time on people who weren't useful to her.

Keira watched me too, smug and expectant, waiting for me to throw a fit—maybe even drop to the floor and scream. After all, I'd always been the one who leaned on Mom the most.

But I wasn't about to give her that satisfaction. I kept my expression perfectly calm and gave Dad a small smile instead.

"When I was little, you used to sneak me toys and snacks just to make me happy. You took care of me every time I got sick. I want to stay with you, Dad."

That was the moment it was Dad's turn to be shocked. He'd assumed I'd never known about any of that.

And he was right—in my last life, Mom had kept it hidden from me for years. I'd died still believing Dad felt nothing for his elder daughter. If I hadn't seen, after my death, the way he collapsed sobbing and turned gray overnight, I might have gone through this whole life still in the dark.

Dad studied me, still a little suspicious.

"You really want to come with me?"

I couldn't blame him for doubting it. Just two hours before I'd ended up here, I'd borrowed a classmate's phone to call him and rip into him for cheating until there was nothing left of his dignity. And now, a few hours later, I was acting like an entirely different person. Anyone would smell something off.

Before I could answer, Keira pressed a hand to her mouth and let out a little laugh, clearly determined to twist the knife before I could change my mind.

"Wow, sis, you really do have an agenda. You know Dad has money, and you don't want to suffer, huh? After everything Mom's done for you—unbelievable. You really don't have a conscience."

The old me would have gone toe-to-toe with her right there. But I'd been given this life again, so I just stood where I was and looked at Keira, cold and even.

"Since you're so full of conscience, you can be the one to stay by Mom's side and take good care of her. Make sure you soothe every wound in her heart."

Something about the way I looked at her made her shiver. She rolled her eyes, grabbed Mom, and hurried off, her steps noticeably lighter, her eyes bright with the certainty that she was about to marry into money.

Watching her go, I almost laughed. It really was true—when a person was foolish enough, they could have the best opportunity handed to them and still fumble it.

It never occurred to her to wonder: if Mom could ensnare one of the city's richest heirs for her daughter, why couldn't she have saved her own marriage?

Everything I had, I'd earned myself, through my own two hands. Those years I'd spent by Mom's side had been nothing short of hell. After she and Dad divorced, she'd made me the center of her entire world—wouldn't let me go out, wouldn't let me be picky about food, even controlled the exact fat content of the milk I drank every single day. The smallest thing set off her fists.

I wondered if my sister was going to enjoy that particular kind of happiness.

I really couldn't wait to find out.