Sasuhina Family

I make my way to the orphanage after receiving my cancer diagnosis, hoping to bid farewell to the orphan, Lillian Lowe, whom I was sponsoring financially. I unexpectedly find my husband, Henry Graham, who is meant to be on a business trip, and my sister, Felicity Sullivan, who is meant to be on a vacation. Their fingers are intertwined, while they use their free hands to playfully pinch Lillian's cheeks. Lillian rushes into their embrace, weeping pitifully. "Can you get rid of that mean lady at home? I just want to go home with Mommy and Daddy." I finally understand, at that moment, that Henry, whom I thought had loved me the most, is having an affair with Felicity. They even have a child together. Mom and Dad urge me to divorce Henry and make way for his new family. Lillian, the girl I once held dearly in my heart, curses me to an early death. Henry, the one who betrayed me, insists on keeping our marriage. It's too late, though. I'm already dying, just as they wished. Lillian, who once cried so much at the orphanage, now lives in a mansion with a father, a mother, and a pair of doting grandparents. Their perfect little life seems like a never-ending fairy tale. It is only when my lifeless body is before them that everyone suddenly loses their minds.

The day I found out I wasn't really an Adelson, Sharon—their real daughter—stormed in and stabbed me—over and over. Just like that, my shot at being a mom? Gone. Chuck Benetton, my fiancé, lost it. My parents swore they'd disown her. To "comfort" me, Chuck proposed on the spot. My parents handed me the severance letter—Sharon officially disowned—and told me to just focus on healing. Later, they said Sharon had run off and gotten trafficked in Nyamara, some hotspot for scams and lost souls. They said it served her right. And yeah... I believed them. Six years into the lie, I saw her—very much alive, baby bump and all, curled up against my husband like she owned him. "If I hadn't snapped back then, Yasmine never would've married you, " she said. "Thank God you and Mom and Dad backed me. Otherwise, that imposter would've landed me in jail. "She probably never guessed I've been right here, carrying your baby. Once I give birth, just fake an adoption. She can nanny our kid forever. "Thanks for everything, Chuck." She smiled like he was her hero. And he blushed. "Don't thank me. Marrying her was the only way to protect you. I'd do it all again." So yeah. The guy I thought loved me? He was always lying. My "parents"? They only cared about Sharon. If that's love, I want nothing to do with it.

The first thing the fake heiress did when she saw me was imitate me. I loved fishtail dresses. Hence, she immediately bought all the fishtail dresses in the city. I loved roses. Thus, she made the entire rose garden hers. I thought she was only jealous that my family had brought me home. Unexpectedly, my elder brother mistook her for me when he saw her from the back when she was wearing a fishtail dress. He gave me forty-nine lashes as punishment that night. She was carrying roses in her arms when my father saw her cheek and mistook her for me. Then, my father immediately drove me out of the house. Before I could investigate the matter, I died of acute renal failure. After my death, I saw her marry my fiance with my family’s blessing. She made a remark on the night of her wedding. “System, I’ve got to thank you for letting me change people’s memories. As long as others mistake me for her, I can casually change their memories.” Enlightenment gripped me, but it was too late. It did not occur to me that I would return to the moment when she had just purchased the fishtail dresses.

My physics teacher held up my test paper with an 18-point score in front of all the students and parents and said, “Students like this are hopeless. I don’t even know how someone like this passed the high school entrance exam. “I didn’t think there was a way to cheat on the high school entrance exam, but it turns out there is. It gives people like this a chance to cheat.” He did not just insult my intelligence but also questioned my character and family. “Well, it’s not surprising. Only a junk-collecting family could raise a kid like this.” I curled up in my seat, too scared to say anything. But my stepmom could not stand it anymore. She smacked the chalk box off his desk, pointed at him, and yelled, “Who do you think you’re talking about?! “I send my kid to school and pay all the tuition and book fees! How did it turn into us being a junk-collecting family?! “You can’t even teach properly, and I haven’t called you out for it! Have you no shame?! You don’t deserve to be called a teacher! You’re just a piece of trash!” For some reason, she suddenly seemed imposing and heroic to me.

When my family was at its poorest, a wealthy family found me and claimed that I was their real daughter. The school heartthrob I crushed on? He was my fiancé all along! Still reeling from all these surprises, a mysterious message suddenly popped up in front of me. "This is where everything changes. The cannon fodder is taken home by the female lead's parents, forced to drop out of school, and then gets pregnant by her fiancé. In the end, everyone thinks she's a harbringer of misfortune, and she's beaten to death." My hand froze as I held the paternity test results. My mom's eyes filled with tears as she took the report from me. "My poor child, you've suffered enough all these years! Don't worry. Just come home with us and rest. You're our daughter now. The family business is enough for you to live comfortably forever. You don't even need to take the SAT if you don't want to." The school heartthrob lowered his head and whispered sensually into my ear, "Listen to me, Lucia. Studying is hard. I'll take care of you from now on."

After three years of living with my wife’s family, everyone thought they could treat me like a pushover. Me? I’m just waiting for her to hold my hand before I can give her the world.

During my night shift, I refused to help my adopted sister administer fluids to her patient. After the wrong drug is given, I watch a seven-year-old boy die after he suffers an allergic reaction right before my eyes. In my previous life, the boy's family stormed the nurses' station after I'd just finished administering his IV medication. The next thing I knew, I was violently beaten up. "You poisoned my grandchild by giving him the wrong medicine!" But the fluid I introduced into his bloodstream was a simple glucose solution. It couldn't have led to such a disastrous outcome. When I was on the brink of passing out, someone called the police. I thought help had finally arrived, but I was sorely mistaken. The police officer—my brother—pinned me to the ground. "We found your prints on the drug vial. You're a murderer." Then, my childhood friend, a forensic pathologist, held up an autopsy report and accused me of the same crime. "The patient's time of death is around 5:00 am. That's the same time you administered drugs into his system." Unable to prove my innocence, I was ultimately beaten to death by the boy's enraged family members. My brother and my childhood friend had always loved me. Even on the brink of death, I couldn't understand why they would do this to me. Now, I open my eyes and find myself back on the night it all began.

I need to drive to and from work due to a change in my job scope. However, my father-in-law hoards my car and refuses to return it. My husband stands up for him. "How can you be so materialistic? So what if you have to take an electric scooter to work?" So, I sell the car. My husband points at me and snaps, "What right do you have to sell Dad's car?" I look at him calmly. "I've sold the one you drive too."

After my mother shot down my pleas to cover my medical bills the 100th time, I clutched my bone cancer diagnosis papers and trudged to the crematorium. "Hi, I'd like to reserve a cremation slot ahead of time," I muttered to the clerk. Half an hour ticked by before my parents and adopted brother arrived in their car. My dad, a forensic pathologist, cracked me across the face. "You're pulling a fake-death stunt now, just to steal the spotlight from your brother?" My mom, a hospital director, snatched the papers from my hands and shredded them into confetti. "Faking records using my credentials and tying up hospital resources? You've crossed the line!" My brother cried, tugging at their sleeves. "It's all my fault. I'll skip the amusement park forever. I don't need a thing. Just quit riling up Mom and Dad." I spun around, my hand pressed against my throbbing chest, and begged the crematorium staff. "Please, when it's time, cremate me and scatter the ashes in the river. I've got no family left in this world."

My younger brother told me he was overwhelmed by school stress and had developed depression. I tried to help by encouraging him to seek treatment, drawing from my own experience with the illness. However, my mother blamed me, accusing me of passing the depression onto him. She took me to a witch, who locked me in the house. Every day, the witch used willow branches to drive away evil spirits, beating me until my skin was raw, forcing me to drink filthy water, and making me bleed. "This is the only way to banish the evil and bless your little brother." After enduring days of torment, my depression worsened, and I chose to end my life. However, when I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day my brother first confessed his depression. I looked at my body—whole and unharmed. This time, I will make them pay for everything I endured.