Rebirth

The day I gave birth, so did Lily Jasper—the underprivileged student I had been sponsoring. But her baby didn’t survive. Afterward, my husband, Carter Scott, insisted on making Lily my son’s godmother. From that moment on, she was everywhere—always butting into my parenting. Whether I was disciplining my son or buying him clothes, Lily never missed a chance to chime in with her opinions. Years later, when my son took his college entrance exams, I helped him choose a major that matched his scores. But Lily pushed hard for him to apply to Merika State or Haven State University instead. In the end, he listened to me and got into a suitable college. Then his acceptance letter came. And everything fell apart. That day, he caused a car accident. My accident. He stepped out of the car, walked over, and kicked me a few times as I lay helpless on the ground. His face was full of disgust as he spat, “You actually thought you were my mom?” His voice was cold. “You’ve made my real mom cry over and over because of you. “You were never family. My real parents and I—we’re family. You? You were just in the way. “But it's over now. Finally...” He smiled cruelly. “We can be together—the real family.” And in that moment, I finally understood. Lily didn’t lose her baby that day. She killed my newborn son and swapped him with hers. Everything went dark. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back. Back to the day I gave birth.

In my past life, my best friend and I married twins at the same time. We shared secrets, complained about our husbands, and teamed up to outsmart our overbearing mother-in-law—it was truly enjoyable. Until the day I nearly died giving birth to twins. As I lay on the brink of death, my best friend cradled my newborns and revealed the cruel truth. “Thank you, Bianca, for giving me such adorable twins. You had no idea, did you? The twins only ever loved me. If I had the ability to give birth, we wouldn't have used you as a tool to have kids. "You’re poor and have never been loved, so it was far too easy to manipulate you. Even the way your husband loved you? It was all my idea—I planned every move he made. “Oh, and every time you two were intimate, I was watching through the cameras—every single time!" When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day I met my best friend.

The second Zoe reset her life and landed back at the Elite Match Gala, she swapped her token with her half-sister's. No hesitation. Because in her previous life, Connor had married Zoe, but she had died helpless and unloved. It was only on her deathbed that Zoe finally knowed the truth: Connor had loved her sister all along. Now, Connor grabbed the bouquet meant for Vicky, eyes lighting up."Vicky, you're it for me. My one and only." Then he turned to Zoe—and the warmth vanished. "Zoe, you've always been like a little sister to me. Don't even think about stepping into Vicky's place." That hit like a slap. Cold, sharp, humiliating. Everyone thought she was pathetic. But this time, Zoe wouldn’t beg for his love. She would bless them instead—marry the man her father had chosen for her, and never look back.

My sister discovers that she resembles a CEO's true love. To take her place, she invites the true love out. She wants to orchestrate an accident to kill the woman. I arrive before it can happen and put a stop to the whole shebang. On our way home, I try to talk sense into her. Julian Stewart singlehandedly built his empire and is ruthless. He'll eventually see through her tricks, which will land our whole family in hot water. She nods in agreement. However, when we get home, she laces my drink with poison. When I'm on the brink of death, she whispers, "You're just jealous because I have a face that can help me marry a rich man. I'll ruin you since you've stood in my way." When I open my eyes again, I'm taken back to the day she meets Julian's true love.

After my daughter, Mia Powell, was declared brain-dead, my husband, Liam Powell, urged me to sign the organ donation consent form. I was drowning in grief and my mind was on the verge of collapse. That was when I accidentally discovered that her attending doctor, Blair Lincoln, was Liam’s old flame. They had lied about Mia’s brain death, just to trick me into signing the form and steal her heart to save Blair’s daughter, Sophia. I watched as Liam picked Sophia up from the hospital. The three of them smiled together, like a perfect, happy family. When I confronted them, they pushed me off a building, and I died from the fall. Given a second chance, I had returned to the day I was supposed to sign the organ donation form. As I stared at Mia lying in that hospital bed, I silently vowed. This time, that scumbag and that wretch would pay with their lives for what they did to Mia.

My husband and mother-in-law fell off the cliff in my past life. I was pregnant and fell into a coma. I could not take the blow and had a miscarriage. A few days later, the neighbors informed me that my child could not be saved and urged me to see him for the last time. The corpses of my husband and mother-in-law were nowhere to be found. A year later, our house was demolished. However, I accidentally consumed paraquat. I saw my husband and my mother-in-law when I was dying. "Finally, we got rid of you. My grandson and my daughter-in-law can finally marry." Next to my mother-in-law was Jessie Charles, the girl next door, and a little boy.

After being bullied to death at school, I was reborn as a newborn baby. And then I realized my mother was the same person who had tormented me. Now she was whispering to me sweetly, “Oh, my precious baby.” Precious baby? I immediately started thrashing in her arms, trying to jab my tiny fingers into her eyes. From this day forward, this ‘precious baby’ would be out for revenge!

After being sent back in time to relive my life, I stopped standing up for the popular girl who got caught stealing. When she returned to college for classes, I dropped out. When she came to my house looking for me, I moved. I did everything I could to cut off all contact with her. Before I died in my last life, I knew she married me only for my family’s money, yet I still handed her my heart like a fool. The jewelry I gave her was “tacky.” Trying to get close to her was “annoying.” I held on to a cold, empty marriage, thinking that as long as I waited, she would eventually turn back to me. However, for more than twenty years, all I got was her indifference. I didn’t even dare touch the doorknob to her room. Then came the fire, and I risked my life to push her out the window to safety. Right before I died, I saw my wife, completely unharmed, run straight into the arms of our college valedictorian. Crying, she said she was finally free from the marriage that had made her miserable for decades. If life could start over, she said, she hoped to walk hand in hand with the person she truly loved. In that moment, my heart went dead. I let the fire swallow whatever remained of my life. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the bar where the popular girl was working part-time and stealing money from a customer. This time, I chose to call the police.

On the day of my coming-of-age ceremony, my father’s brother-in-arms pushed photos of his daughters in front of me and told me to choose a fiancee. Without hesitation, I picked the photo of the eldest daughter, Yvonne Shaw. Everyone around me stared in shock. They all knew that I was deeply in love with the second daughter, Natalie Shaw. In my previous life, I had chased after Natalie for ten years before finally marrying her. Through our marriage, she became the heiress of the Shaw family. But three years after we got married, she became pregnant with my brother’s child. Our parents were furious. They forced her to get an abortion and sent my brother away. From then on, Natalie hated me to the core. Every night, she would bring home men who looked like my brother and spend the night with them. The constant torment wore me down, and I eventually fell gravely ill and died a miserable death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to that night when I had to choose a fiancee. This time, I chose to let them be together. But what I did not expect was that Natalie had been reborn too.

After my father died, my mother remarried and took my younger sister and me with her. But her new husband had one condition—she could only bring one child. From people who used to hang around my dad, I later learned that my grandfather was actually a wealthy antique collector. My sister clung to him for her own future, refusing to let go. But in his eyes, her only job was to get straight A's; everything else—her clothes, her meals, her allowance—was kept to the bare minimum. I went with my stepfather instead. His business took off, and we eventually moved into a huge mansion. He even set me up with an engagement to the heir of a powerful, wealthy family. My sister was eaten up with jealousy. One day, she doused me in gasoline and dragged us both back in time to that day we had to choose our futures. This time, she lunged for my stepfather's hand and held on tight. "I want to stay with Mom and Dad," she announced. I didn't miss a beat. I immediately ducked behind my grandfather. 'Fine, Phoebe. You're the one who chose a life as a bargaining chip. Don't blame me for it. You can have it.'