The Afton Family Novels & Stories

In my last life, the System let my parents swap my SAT scores with my twin's. I was always top of my class—until I magically bombed with a 640. Amelia Everton? Scored a perfect 1520, like she'd earned it. The internet went nuts. Everyone called me a fraud. My parents played innocent on TV, said I'd been cheating for years. Every college ghosted me. Then they kicked me out. I froze to death alone. Not this time. I'm taking it all back—every last thing they stole.

My daughter has been kidnapped, and the kidnapper is asking for five million dollars as ransom. I can just about scrounge the money together, but the kidnapper makes it clear that he wants a life in exchange for my daughter's. He'll take the money and kill the person who brings it to him. I smoke throughout the night, my eyes bloodshot as I try to think of something. Then, I fix my gaze on my mother, who is now senile and insane.

On our wedding day, Carter Hall's father took his own life in our new home. He left a suicide note, blaming me for his death. From that day forward, Carter despised me to the core. He said, "Lindsey Thomson, you deserve to rot in hell, atoning for your sins for the rest of your life." Eventually, just as he wished, I wandered the streets, mute and half-insane, living a life worse than a stray dog. But then, he regretted it.

My mother-in-law, Eleanor, was having a heart attack, and my husband, Ben Dover—a heart surgeon—was the only one who could save her. Did I call him? Nope. I just stood there, watching her gasp like a fish out of water. In my last life, I'd begged Ben to come save her. He brushed me off, accusing me of interrupting his time with his mistress, Ima Schit. No matter how much I pleaded, he wouldn't come. Eleanor had died in the hospital. And when Johnny, my father-in-law, demanded answers, Ben flipped the script, saying I'd never even called. He made Eleanor's death my fault. Johnny, blinded by grief and fury, killed me. But plot twist—I woke up. Right back to the day this circus started.

In my previous life, I shoved the police chief’s daughter out of the way with everything I had. A truck ran over me instead, crushing both my legs. The police department awarded me a medal and I became a hero praised by the entire city. However, when she woke up, she pointed at me and told her father that I tried to kill her. My parents slapped me on the spot. “Why would you try to hurt her?!” My younger brother stood behind them and said quietly, “Henry… I saw you that day. You really did push her…” The driver who hit us claimed I had instructed him to run her down and said I was trying to stage an accident to murder her. I was sentenced to fifteen years. The day I entered prison, I was in a wheelchair. My mother held my brother’s hand and glanced back at me. Her eyes were filled with disgust. “How did we raise a monster like you?” In prison, a gang leader arranged by the police chief gouged out my eyes and slashed the tendons in my hands. I died consumed by hatred. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at that same intersection. A large truck was barreling straight toward the police chief’s daughter. I slowly took a step back. This time, I was not going to save anyone.

My husband brings a pregnant Meryl Cleat home and lies to me, claiming that she's his stepmother. I'm wholly against the idea, but she says, "The children will call you their mother when they're born, so you don't have to go through the pain of childbirth. Think about how lucky you are, experiencing motherhood without the suffering!" I demand a divorce in the heat of the moment; Meryl is so infuriated by this that she faces labor complications and later dies. Out of guilt, I become a stay-at-home mother to care for her two super male kids. Yet they scaled me with boiling water and blind me in one eye. My health deteriorates under their intense torment, and I'm diagnosed with uremia. That's when I accidentally discover Meryl isn't my stepmother—she's my husband's mistress! I'm in despair when I return home. To make matters worse, I catch her—when she's supposed to be dead—and my husband in bed together. Her two super male sons ultimately stab me to death. When I open my eyes again, I'm taken back to the day she fakes her death!

After failing my mission, I was about to be erased by the system—completely wiped from this world. In the final twenty-four hours before my deletion, I agreed to donate a kidney to my younger sister. My husband, overjoyed, held me tightly and said he would not divorce me anymore. When my sister stole my design draft, I voluntarily admitted I was the plagiarist. My parents nodded in satisfaction, saying I had finally become sensible. At last, I became the good wife and good daughter they had always wanted. But later, when they saw my corpse, they all lost their minds.

On New Year's Day, my childhood friend asked me for the passcode to my new house. I thought she was planning to bring a housewarming gift, but when I opened the door, I froze in shock. There were more than a dozen people inside. She walked over with a smile before giving me a subtle look. "Ryan, what are you doing here? Come on in. You're just in time. You're lucky enough to catch our family gathering." I stood there in stunned silence. Before I could even ask what was going on, her boyfriend suddenly spoke in a mocking tone. "Is your childhood friend very persuasive? I'm curious how he sweet-talked you into giving him your house's passcode." Her expression instantly turned serious. "He didn't sweet-talk me. He got on his knees and begged. He said he had a fight with his family and got kicked out with nowhere to stay. You know how soft-hearted I am. I didn't think much of it and just gave it to him." Her boyfriend's eyes had a look of contempt. "No normal man would stoop that low. Who knows how many women he's begged behind the scenes just to get what he wants." She gave him a look of approval. "Babe, how are you so smart? There was a time he stripped naked and begged me just to buy a watch he liked. I've told you about it." Her boyfriend burst out laughing. "So that was him? He's honestly shameless." Seeing her spew lies so casually and irresponsibly, I couldn't contain my anger. I stepped forward and slapped her hard across the face. "Who the hell do you think you are? Taking over my house and slandering me? Get out."

My daughter has leukemia and desperately needs a bone marrow donor. After a blood test, it turns out my blood type doesn't match hers. However, my husband's blood type does. This confuses me. I gave birth to her, so how could my blood type not be a match for hers? I'm puzzled by this when my long-lost best friend suddenly appears with her son, who's about my daughter's age. She wants him to do a blood test to see whether it matches my daughter's.

My husband spiked our child's formula with sleeping pills to sneak away for a Christmas date with his assistant. As I frantically rushed my feverish child to the hospital, I unexpectedly spotted my husband carrying his assistant upstairs. "Peyton twisted her ankle, so I'm here to help her get it checked!" Even though our child was in the operating room fighting for her life, he did not so much as glance in her direction. I tightened my grip on the ten-million-dollar winning lottery ticket in my pocket. It was time to end this seven-year marriage.