Rebirth

The daughter of our housekeeper was pretending to be a rich girl at college, handing out my designer stuff just to keep up the act. When I called her out, she actually had the nerve to say she was "redistributing wealth to help the less fortunate." I called the cops, but then she spread this wild rumor that I made her sleep with me for three years, and that she was using my luxury items to help me "atone for my sin." Then she and her boyfriend teamed up to try and have me killed. Next thing I know, I woke up and it was the exact same day she started her whole rich-girl act.

My little sister Willa? Always played the noble princess—even during the freaking apocalypse. She was pregnant and still trying to look like some graceful queen. I told her to end it. Safer that way. She slapped me. "Shut up. How can you be so heartless?" Meanwhile, I skipped meals so she and her rescue-pet gang could eat. When I collapsed from hunger, she snorted. "Drama queen. Think of it as a free weight-loss plan." I dragged her to the base, the safe zone, and nearly died doing it. She snatched the last of my rations. "The baby and I are good. Give the rest away." I died from my injuries—frozen, starving, forgotten. Willa? She got crowned a saint. Even landed the baby daddy—the Deputy Governor—and kicked off her perfect little fairytale. Then I woke up. Back to the moment she asked me to swear I'd protect her and the baby. This time, I laughed in her face. "Die for all I care."

At my own wedding, I find out the woman behind the veil isn't even the one I'm supposed to be marrying. Instead of getting mad, I give her the wedding of the century. It's all because of what happened in my past life. I'd exposed that she wasn't my bride in front of everyone and blew up the whole ceremony. That forced Jessie Clarke, who'd been at the hospital with her childhood sweetheart, Oliver Grant, to rush over reluctantly so we could still get married. Because of that, Oliver refused treatment and died on the operating table. When I heard he was gone, I told Jessie she should see him one last time, but she refused. All she said was, "Blame it on his bad luck." After we got married, we acted just as in love as before. I kept getting money from my family to save her company every time it was on the verge of collapse. But on the anniversary of Oliver's death, Jessie shoved me off the top floor of her company. I hit the ground hard enough to end up a broken, bloody mess. As I fell, I caught one last look at her face, streaked with tears. "If you hadn't forced me back to marry you, Oliver wouldn't have died! You get to keep me, but I lost him for good! Why do you get to live a happy life?" So that was it. She'd blamed me for Oliver's death from the start. She'd never loved me at all. The next time I opened my eyes, I was back at our wedding ceremony.

After receiving the report for an STD test, I went back to the barbeque restaurant, and there I ran into a young woman who was about three months pregnant. She asked me to let her cut in line, and, feeling sorry for her, I agreed to help her out. I quickly made arrangements for her and made sure she had a seat. But to my shock, after she finished her meal, she had a miscarriage. The girl posted about the incident online, and before I knew it, I was trending on social media, facing a wave of cyberbullying. The internet users went even further, digging up my health records and finding that everything came back positive. [She's positive for everything—she's clearly a woman with a messy private life!] [No wonder she caused the woman's miscarriage just by being near her—she's a biological hazard!] The cyberbullying got so bad that it pushed me into depression. Even my fiancé turned against me, accusing me of being filthy and breaking up with me. The emotional weight became too much, and in my pain, I drove straight into a reservoir. Meanwhile, the girl gained millions of followers online and skyrocketed to fame as a popular influencer. It was only after I died that I learned the shocking truth—this girl was my fiancé's first love. To boost her own popularity, she and my fiancé had come up with this entire scheme together. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day when she asked me to let her cut in line.

The first thing I do after coming back to life is swap out every single pair of my husband, Augustin Reed's boxers for those in black. In my past life, my sister-in-law, Sephine Fidel, cheats right under our roof on my brother, Jonah Merrick. And when I catch her and tell Jonah the truth, she turns it all on me. Then, two pairs of men's black boxers, not Augustin's, appear in my bedroom. I try to explain, but Augustin slaps me across the face and calls me a whore, while Jonah looks at me like I'm filth. "I know you hate Sephine. You've never shown her any warmth since she married me, but I didn't think you'd sink this low to cheat in your own house and frame her for it…" He disowns me while Augustin files for divorce. I remember stumbling onto the streets in a daze, only to get run over dead by a speeding truck. When my eyes snap open, I wake up to the day Sephine brings her lover into our home.

My widowed mother-in-law has an affair with a married man. Whenever she goes out to meet him, she uses me as an excuse and says I need her to run errands. Slowly but surely, my husband, William Sanders, thinks of me as a cruel daughter-in-law who orders her mother-in-law around. One day, my mother-in-law gets pregnant. She secretly uses my name when getting a checkup at the gynecology department and even wants to play the child off as mine and William's. Her lover's wife mistakes me for his mistress and strips me in public before beating me to death. When I open my eyes again, I'm back to the day when my mother-in-law's lover's wife finds out about her going to the gynecology department under my name. This time, I'm calm as I tell the woman what to do. "Let's get to the bottom of this. Let's ask the doctor who the actual patient was!"

"Ms. Summers, are you sure you want to terminate this pregnancy?" Solana Summers has been lost in thought, but the repeated questioning suddenly snaps her back to reality. She stares wide-eyed, as if she can't believe what she is seeing. When the doctor, Aidan Bates, urges her again, she realizes she has been reborn. In her previous life, it was on this very day that she discovered she was pregnant and made a choice that cost her dearly. Aidan urges her once more. "Ms. Summers?" "Yes!" Solana answers firmly, her voice trembling ever so slightly. This time, she won't make the same mistake again.

I was the daughter of a crime boss in Flonio. Initially, I was supposed to reveal my identity during my wedding. But my elder brother told me that someone was targeting me and that I could not expose myself. My fiance also took this chance to take off my wedding gown and help my maid into it. My bodyguard then stole my family token. I trusted them deeply, but when the wedding ceremony started, I saw my maid with one arm around my fiance. Meanwhile, her other hand lingered between my brother’s and bodyguard’s sensitive spots on their bodies. In response to my suspicions, my maid laughed wickedly. Then, she instructed someone to break my limbs. They locked me up in the basement and forced me to watch as they got more and more intimate. In the end, they skinned me alive and broke my bones. Before I breathed my last, they left me to the beasts. When I recalled the misery of my previous life, I broke my maid’s ribs with a few punches. “You can have my fiance, but you don’t deserve my family token!”

I was the real daughter of the Sinclair family, yet I was the one abandoned when their fake daughter and I were kidnapped and taken to the top of a building. They were given a choice between the two of us, and they chose to save the fake daughter, letting me be pushed off from the eighteenth-floor balcony. Even though I survived, I was completely disappointed in them. Then, their attitudes changed overnight. My parents, who despised me, started asking me about my likes and dislikes. My brother who wished me dead, started suddenly giving me precious jewelry. Even my fiancé, who always claimed I was nothing compared to the fake daughter, started to prepare for our wedding. To say I was confused was an understatement.

My father bought twin brothers from the black market to serve as bodyguards for me and my sister. My sister chose the tall, strong older brother, leaving me with the frail, mute younger one. Feeling sorry for him, I kept him close, seeking doctors for his silence and maintaining distance to respect his apparent OCD. I thought trauma had shaped him that way. But when our father's enemies kidnapped us, he abandoned me without hesitation, choosing to die shielding my sister. In his final moments, he spoke for the first time. "You finally see me." To me, he said, "In the next life, please don't choose me." I realized then that he was neither mute nor afflicted with OCD. His silence and aversion were directed solely at me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day we chose the bodyguards. This time, I'd grant his wish.