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Rebirth
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2026-05-06 18:48:46Kara's POV.
I knew I had to go back home to demand an explanation for everything that was going on. So as soon as the doctor discharged me, I decided to go home. "You can't leave yet, miss." The doctor suddenly stopped me and I frowned. "What? Why?" "Mr. Xavier demanded that you wait for him to get back from his meeting. Apparently, he has something important to tell you." The doctor responded and I narrowed my eyes at him. "He told you that?" "Yes. So please be patient." The doctor almost bowed and exited the ward, while I sat there confused. I was grateful to Xavier for all the help he had rendered but what could possibly be important that he wanted to see me for? I tried to rank my brain for what the topic might be but nothing was popping up. Besides, two nights ago, when I asked him about the kiss, he told me it never happened and I was probably so drunk that I mixed things up. He even teased me about having a crush on him. "Well, he can see me later," I muttered under my breath as I left the hospital, deciding that whatever Xavier wanted to see me for, couldn't be as important as what I had to ask Jeremy. I took a taxi back to the estate, and when I walked in, I was surprised by the transformation of the house decor, but that didn't hurt me; it was the pictures on the wall that did. My photos with Jeremy had all been replaced with those of him and Brittany. "Oh! You here?" I heard a familiar voice behind me and turned to see Brittany, with her head standing tall. "Yes, and I can see you have moved in." I smiled weakly, trying to ignore the ache in my heart. "Of course I have. It's where I belonged in the first place." Brittany laughed, before taking a step closer to me. "You know, you are so easy to manipulate." She began and I furrowed my brows at her. "I don't understand." "Two years ago, everything was planned. I intentionally drugged you so you could end up in bed with Jeremy and that way, I would be able to cancel the engagement and fly out of the country for a new modeling gig I just got." She revealed and my jaw dropped. Wait! She did what? "It was quite easy, considering you have always had a crush on Jeremy," Brittany said and rage burned through my veins. "Does Jeremy know this?" "Of course. I mean we planned it together." Jeremy spoke up behind her and I went pale, my hands trembling. "W-what?" "Yes. You see, I finally figured out why my mum always hated you. It was because your parents, before they died, stole everything from her, and my mother wanted at all costs to make you suffer for their sins, so we came up with a solution." "Since I already proposed and Brittany got a huge offer, calling off the engagement would be a waste, especially since you are so in love with me, so why not take advantage of your love for me?" Jeremy began with a chuckle, his words punching me in the guts. "Yes, you kissed Xavier, but I tricked him into thinking I wanted to help you to your room, but then, you were too touchy despite being drunk, so we ended up having sex, and I called the press myself, knowing you would protect me." I couldn't take the truth anymore, my legs wobbled as my vision suddenly grew blurry. I immediately leaned on a poll, trying to stabilize myself. "So it's true that you really poisoned me?" I struggled to ask and Jeremy nodded without remorse. "Yes. I got tired of you clinging, besides we already got what we wanted from you. The inheritance your parents left you." Jeremy said and my blood turned cold. I had an inheritance? I widened my eyes at him and he scoffed. "Oh please! Don't look so surprised. Your family lawyer has been looking for you for years, ever since you got lost in the orphanage after the accident, but my mum recognized you because of the birthmark, the one I made you hide so they would never find you." "Then he created an artificial one for me and together, we claimed the inheritance," Brittany smirked, and I bit my lower lip, hatred buzzing through me. No, none of them could go scot-free with all of these. "You know..." I laughed, surprising them. "I wonder what the press would say once they hear everything I have recorded." I watched with satisfaction as all colors drained out of their faces, especially when I showed them the device connected to my cloth. I turned to leave when; "You bitch." Brittany grabbed me from behind and slammed my head hard, against the wall. "Bri, nooooo." I heard Jeremy scream, but it was too late. I could feel life going out of me as tears rolled down my cheeks. Was this how I was going to end? But I deserved none of this. I couldn't let them win, and if possible, I wanted a second chance at life. ......... ......... I woke up to the sound of my phone alarm ringing and groaned, standing up to stretch when a familiar pain hit me in the chest, and I coughed up blood. I froze, my mind reeling as I recognized the room I was in. Wait! Wasn't I dead? Didn't Brittany kill me? Just then, the door opened, and Jeremy walked into the room, clad in the same suit he wore the day he served me the divorce papers. He was on his phone as usual, and I gasped as the realization hit me. It couldn't be. I hurriedly grabbed my phone to check the date, and my lips parted from surprise as I discovered that I had been reborn three days before my death. If I could recall properly, today was the day I found out about his betrayal and also the day I discovered I was poisoned. I hurriedly sat on the back, trying to calm my racing heart as I realized that my fate was now in my hands. This meant that if I could hurriedly go to the hospital now, I could be saved, with my unborn child. I placed my hand on my stomach, feeling the urge to cry when Jeremy touched me. "Are you okay?" I flinched from his touch, glaring at him as I remembered all he did. Too bad, life was starting all over again. This time, I get to serve the divorce first.
Latest chapter
Rebirth; it’s too late, Dear ex She was free
Kara’s POV. We walked to the foundation in the morning. Xavier and I. The city was doing what it always did. Ordinary and alive and indifferent and entirely itself. We did not talk much. Some walks need the quiet. Some mornings are too full for words and the right thing is to walk beside the right person and let the morning be what it is. Grace was already there when we arrived. Standing outside the building. Kofi beside her. She had said: I will meet you at the wall. She had meant the outside wall. The building itself. She was standing the way she had stood at eighteen months old in front of the interior wall. Looking at the building. Taking stock. “Ready?” she said. “Yes,” I said. We went inside. The lobby. The water. The words. The record belongs to the families. They built something real. The building matters more than the taking. I stopped. I looked at the words. I had read them thousands of times. But this morning I read them differently. Not as a dec
Rebirth; it’s too late, Dear ex The night before the last chapter
Kara’s POV. “She was free,” Grace had said. I was still holding the phone. Still standing in the lobby. Still beside the words. Xavier was watching me. “She said it,” I said. “Yes,” he said. Not the notebook version. Not the written version. Grace standing beside me in the lobby of the building my mother had imagined and calling me to say two words. She was free. The same words I had written in the notebook. The same words that were now in the permanent record. But said out loud. In the right room. By the right person. I looked at Xavier. “Take me home,” I said. We walked. The city. The afternoon becoming evening. The specific quality of a city that has no idea it is walking beside someone who has just finished something enormous and is now learning what it feels like to simply walk. We walked slowly. Not because we needed to. Because the walking was right. At home the kitchen. David and Lena in the window. The last light on them. Xavier made tea. I sat at t
Rebirth; it’s too late, Dear ex Someone finally believed me
Kara’s POV. “She said: someone finally believed me,” Amara told me. I looked at Xavier. He had heard. “Which one?” I said. “The one who came in first,” Amara said. “Her name is Josephine. Seventy-one years old. Her grandfather’s dry goods business was on the corner. She has been saying for forty years that the businesses on that block were connected. That it was not coincidence that they all went down in the same eighteen-month window.” She paused. “She said: I tried to tell people for forty years. Nobody believed me. They said I was making a pattern where there was none.” She paused. “Then she walked in today and found the two women and the three of them stood in the lobby and said: you know about it too.” She paused. “Kara. They held each other in the lobby.” “They held each other,” I said. “Yes,” Amara said. I looked at Emmanuel. He had been listening. “Someone finally believed her,” I said to the room. “That is what the room is for,” Grace said. She had come back up whi
Rebirth; it’s too late, Dear ex Keep it going
Kara’s POV. “Keep it going,” Emmanuel Asante had written. “Emmanuel Asante, Ghana, 1998.” Grace held the letter. She read the last line again. Then she looked at Emmanuel. The living Emmanuel. Her grandmother’s brother. Standing in front of her in the second floor of the foundation his cousin’s documentation had helped build. “He knew you would come,” Grace said. Not to me. To Emmanuel. “Yes,” Emmanuel said. “He said: when you find them, give it to the one who carries the work. She will understand.” He paused. “He believed the family would find each other.” He paused. “He was right.” “He was always right,” Grace said. The same words. The same words that had been said about every person in the chain. She was always right. He was always right. Always right before the proof arrived. Because the proof was never the point. The building was the point. The belief was the point. Grace folded the letter. She looked at me. “This goes in the permanent collection,” she said.
Rebirth; it’s too late, Dear ex The morning after
Kara’s POV. “Tell me how you slept,” Xavier said. It was Saturday. The morning after. I had slept the way I had not slept in years. Not the sleep of exhaustion. Not the sleep of someone who has pushed until they cannot push anymore. The sleep of someone who has put everything in its right place and closed the door behind them. “I slept,” I said. “The full version.” “I know,” he said. “I watched you.” “You watched me sleep,” I said. “I watched you sleep the way I have wanted to watch you sleep for twenty years,” he said. “Without the specific quality you have always had. The listening quality. The even-when-you-are-asleep-you-are-ready quality.” He paused. “Last night you were simply asleep.” I looked at him. “I was free,” I said. “Yes,” he said. The kitchen. The coffee. The succulents in the window. The city outside being itself. The notebook was still on the table. Grace had not come for it yet. She would come today. I looked at it. Twenty-five lines across five gene
Rebirth; it’s too late, Dear ex The last line
Kara’s POV. “The chain knows its own name,” Grace had written. “Keep building.” I read the photograph of her line three times. Then I put the phone down. Xavier was watching me. “She is already on her way somewhere,” I said. “She wrote it on the train.” “Of course she did,” he said. I sat at the kitchen table for a long time. Not working. Not planning. Just being in the room. The specific quality of a day that has given everything it has to give and is now simply asking to be received. At some point Xavier made dinner. We ate in the kitchen. The city outside. David and Lena in the window. Both of them so well established now that Grace had started joking they would outlive us. She was probably right. After dinner I opened the notebook. Twenty-three lines and Grace’s new line from the train. Twenty-four lines across five generations and ninety-five years. From my grandmother’s last written words. To Grace on a train at twenty-five. The chain in twenty-four lines.
Rebirth; it’s too late, Dear ex Grace’s line
Kara’s POV. “I know what it says,” Grace had said. The next morning she arrived at the foundation at eight. Not at the apartment first. Directly to the foundation. The specific directness that was entirely Grace. When she had decided something she did not build toward it from a comfortable distan
Rebirth; it’s too late, Dear ex Someone finally said it
Kara’s POV. “Someone finally said it,” Amara had read to me. “I have been waiting my whole life for someone to say it.” I was already standing up. “Who said it?” I asked. “An older man,” Amara said. “He came in alone. He walked the full wall. He got to Lena Jones and he stopped and he read the e
Rebirth; it’s too late, Dear ex The room remembered
Kara’s POV. “The room remembered,” Miriam said. She was looking at the last line of her grandmother’s entry. She stood in front of the space where the entry would go. Her hand flat against the wall. The way everyone stood. The way every person had stood in this exact position since the first day
Rebirth; it’s too late, Dear ex The photograph
Kara’s POV. “Eleanor Nightfall,” Miriam said. “In the front row. Writing.” I held the phone. Xavier was watching my face. “She was there,” I said. “At the meeting. In 1929. Eleanor was in the room when Lena Jones stood up and named the machine.” “She was taking notes,” Miriam said. “That is wha
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