ย้อนเวลามาเป็นภรรยาแสนชังของแม่ทัพรั่ว

"It's only 400ml of your blood. How can you refuse? Is it some sick desire of yours to watch me suffer and look pathetic in front of everyone?"

I opened my eyes to find my sister, Jenna Lane, in tears, accusing me again.

My older brother, Tyler Lane, stormed over and kicked me. "She's your sister, Sienna Lane. All she wants is to live. It's just a little blood. Why can't you agree to such a small request?"

I had always been frail, my health suffering from the constant blood transfusions Jenna required.

His kick knocked me to the ground, and I trembled in pain, unable to stand no matter how hard I tried.

Tyler yanked me up by the hair. "Stop faking weakness. I know you're fine. Get up and go to the hospital to give Jenna your blood!"

He pulled so hard that a chunk of my hair ripped out, and the sharp pain brought tears to my eyes. I struggled to escape his grasp. "If you're so generous, you do it! I'm not going!"

Jenna's sobbing intensified. "I knew it! Sienna doesn't want to save me—she wants me dead! Fine, I'll grant her wish!"

She grabbed a scarf, still crying, and gently wrapped it around her neck, threatening to strangle herself.

Tyler, panicked, rushed to snatch the scarf away. "Sienna's the one who should die, not you!"

My mother, Florence James, marched over and slapped me, her voice dripping with disgust. "Apologize to your sister right now! Then get to the hospital and transfuse your blood to her!"

Blood filled my mouth, and my cheeks throbbed from the impact. All I could do was laugh bitterly. "Why should I? She doesn't deserve it."

Jenna had aplastic anemia. My parents had me only because they needed the blood from my umbilical cord to save Jenna. When it turned out my cord blood wasn't a match, my mother's health deteriorated, leaving her unable to have more children.

Because of this, everyone believed I owed Jenna—including Jenna herself.

I had been forced to donate blood to her since childhood. My arms were covered with scars from countless needle punctures. The constant transfusions weakened my immune system, leaving me sick most of the time. My family often complained about the trouble I caused but continued to shower Jenna with affection.

Jenna also resented me for excelling at school. She destroyed my trophies and tore up my certificates, but my family brushed it off, calling my achievements vain and meaningless.

When a boy she liked wrote me a love letter, she rallied a group at school to bully me. My family scolded me for being promiscuous and locked me in the basement.

They favored Jenna without question.

I was constantly filled with frustration, but I clung to the hope that life would eventually improve.

In the end, Jenna took credit for my book and stole my husband. My husband divorced me for her.

Even overseas, Jenna tracked me down and caused my death. Even then, my mother still blamed me.

I've lived a humiliating, tragic life. Thankfully, the God took pity on me and gave me another chance to rewrite my fate.