My Second Chance to Save My Sister

When Mom gave birth to my baby sister, Jocelyn Hanson, she'd reserved an entire floor of the hospital. The next day, a young, handsome nurse named Mike Sutton kept watching her. He told Mom she needed to rest and insisted on taking Jocelyn next door to feed her. Back then, I didn't know any better, and Mom saw no reason to be suspicious. So she let him take Jocelyn. That same day, Mike vanished with Jocelyn. We never saw either of them again. Mom never forgave herself. She sank into a deep depression and eventually took her own life. Dad couldn't handle what had happened. He left me with Grandma, then took his own life too. Just like that, I lost everyone. I shut myself off from the world, and less than two years later, I fell from a balcony because my nanny wasn't watching me. None of us escaped a tragic end. 18 years later, Mike resurfaced as Jocelyn's adoptive father. He brought her back to the Hanson family, and everything my family had left behind ended up in their hands. Even on his deathbed, he still bragged to anyone who would listen, "I sure didn't raise her for nothing." Then I get a second chance. I'm three years old again, back on the day after Jocelyn was born. Mike pushes open the door and comes in. "Ms. Hanson, it's time to feed the baby. Why don't I take her next door so you can get some rest? Kiddo, how about I take your little sister next door so she can have some milk?" His warm smile makes me shudder. All at once, I remember the pain of losing Mom and Dad in my previous life. I gather my courage and shout, "No! My mom can feed her. We don't need you!"