All Chapters of Reborn to Destroy Him: Chapter 121 - Chapter 128

The invitation was simple. Cream cardstock with gold lettering. "Nott Designs: 25 Years of Resilience. A Retrospective Fashion Show."Twenty-five years. A quarter century since I rebuilt my company from ashes. Since I chose to fight instead of disappear. Since I decided that Brock wouldn't be the end of my story.Victoria called me three months before the show. She was CEO of Nott Designs now. I'd stepped back five years ago to focus on the Reborn Foundation. But Victoria wanted me involved in planning the anniversary."This isn't just a celebration of the company," she said. "It's a celebration of you. Your journey. Everything you survived to build this.""I don't want it to be about me," I said. "I want it to be about the work. The designs.""The designs ARE you, Bethany. Every collection tells part of your story. That's what makes them powerful. That's what makes them matter."So I agreed. I helped Victoria plan a retrospective show. Every major collection from the past twenty-five

The lump was small. So small I almost didn't notice it. I was in the shower, washing, and my hand passed over my left breast. There it was. A tiny hard spot that shouldn't be there.I stood under the water for a long time. Telling myself it was nothing. Just a cyst. Just normal aging. Just my body doing something weird that meant nothing.But I knew. Somewhere deep inside, I knew.I didn't tell Marcus right away. I made an appointment with my doctor first. Let her feel it. Let her order the mammogram. Let her refer me to the oncologist. I went through all the steps alone because I needed to know for sure before I scared anyone.The oncologist was a woman named Dr. Patel. She was young and kind and didn't try to hide the truth."It's cancer," she said. "Early stage. Very treatable. But it is cancer."I sat in her office and felt the world tilt. Cancer. The word that everyone feared. The word that meant sick and weak and dying."What do we do?" I asked. My voice sounded calm even though

Lily spread her sketches across our dining room table. Twelve designs. Each one more beautiful than the last."What do you think, Grandma?" she asked. She was nervous. I could see it in the way her hands shook slightly. The way she bit her lower lip.I looked at each sketch carefully. Really looked. Not as a grandmother. As a designer. As someone who'd been doing this for forty years.The first piece was a dress with clean lines and classic proportions. But the fabric had a modern twist. Sustainable materials. Unexpected textures. It was elegant like my early work but fresh. New. Entirely Lily's own vision."These are incredible," I said. My voice came out softer than I meant it to. "Lily, these are really incredible.""You're not just saying that because you're my grandma?""I'm saying it because it's true. These designs are sophisticated. Thoughtful. They show technical skill and creative vision. Any design school would be lucky to have you."Lily's face lit up. "You really think so

Six months after my final show, my publisher called. "Bethany, it's been five years since your memoir came out. We want to do an anniversary edition. Updated. With a new introduction."I was in the garden pruning roses. "I don't know what else I have to say. The memoir covered everything.""Write a letter to your younger self. The woman you were before everything happened. Tell her what you know now. That's the new introduction."I almost said no. But then I thought about all the young women out there. The ones who were twenty-eight and naive and trusting the wrong people. The ones who needed to hear that survival was possible."I'll do it," I said.I spent three weeks writing the letter. Deleting it. Starting over. Trying to find the right words. The true words. The words that would have saved me if I'd been able to hear them.Finally, I had it. I read it to Marcus first."Dear Bethany," I read aloud. "Right now you think love means sacrifice. You think being soft means being weak. Y