Daughters Reborn: Swapped Lives

In my past life, when Mom and Dad divorced, they made my sister and me choose. My younger sister, Keira McKellen, didn't hesitate—she picked our rich father, certain she'd become a wealthy young lady and inherit a fortune. But Dad already had another woman, and once his mistress gave birth to a son, Keira went from heiress to nothing overnight. Worse, the woman drove her out of the house entirely, and she was left to wander with nowhere to go. I chose Mom, and ended up living the charmed life instead: I got into a top university, married into a powerful family, and went from ugly duckling to swan—the very top of the world. My sister's envy of me curdled into madness, and on the day my whole family gathered to celebrate my birthday, she burned every one of them alive. When I opened my eyes again, it was the day of my parents' divorce, all over from the start. I saw her rush to choose Mom before I even could, and I knew—she'd been reborn too. What she doesn't know is that living with Dad is miserable, sure, but Mom is broke and out of her mind, and life with her is even worse. Chapter 1 The ache in my skull hadn't fully faded when a shrill, all-too-familiar voice cut through my ears. "Nobody in the world is better than a mother! What kind of mother doesn't love her own child? I'm going with Mom! A man like Dad just isn't equipped to handle everything on his own—there's nothing to be done about it." The rising lilt at the end of her sentence gave away exactly how pleased with herself she was. Dad's face went livid with fury. He raised a trembling finger and pointed it at Keira McKellen's face. "You... you..." He never managed to finish the sentence. Mom, on the other hand—a woman who was rarely moved by anything—let a flicker of satisfaction cross her usually unreadable eyes. "No surprise there. She's my daughter, all right. She knows how to read a room." She'd always looked down on me for being too soft-hearted, and now there was even less room in her eyes for me, her older daughter. She didn't even bother sparing me a glance. She never wasted her time on people who weren't useful to her. Keira watched me too, smug and expectant, waiting for me to throw a fit—maybe even drop to the floor and scream. After all, I'd always been the one who leaned on Mom the most. But I wasn't about to give her that satisfaction. I kept my expression perfectly calm and gave Dad a small smile instead. "When I was little, you used to sneak me toys and snacks just to make me happy. You took care of me every time I got sick. I want to stay with you, Dad." That was the moment it was Dad's turn to be shocked. He'd assumed I'd never known about any of that. And he was right—in my last life, Mom had kept it hidden from me for years. I'd died still believing Dad felt nothing for his elder daughter. If I hadn't seen, after my death, the way he collapsed sobbing and turned gray overnight, I might have gone through this whole life still in the dark. Dad studied me, still a little suspicious. "You really want to come with me?" I couldn't blame him for doubting it. Just two hours before I'd ended up here, I'd borrowed a classmate's phone to call him and rip into him for cheating until there was nothing left of his dignity. And now, a few hours later, I was acting like an entirely different person. Anyone would smell something off. Before I could answer, Keira pressed a hand to her mouth and let out a little laugh, clearly determined to twist the knife before I could change my mind. "Wow, sis, you really do have an agenda. You know Dad has money, and you don't want to suffer, huh? After everything Mom's done for you—unbelievable. You really don't have a conscience." The old me would have gone toe-to-toe with her right there. But I'd been given this life again, so I just stood where I was and looked at Keira, cold and even. "Since you're so full of conscience, you can be the one to stay by Mom's side and take good care of her. Make sure you soothe every wound in her heart." Something about the way I looked at her made her shiver. She rolled her eyes, grabbed Mom, and hurried off, her steps noticeably lighter, her eyes bright with the certainty that she was about to marry into money. Watching her go, I almost laughed. It really was true—when a person was foolish enough, they could have the best opportunity handed to them and still fumble it. It never occurred to her to wonder: if Mom could ensnare one of the city's richest heirs for her daughter, why couldn't she have saved her own marriage? Everything I had, I'd earned myself, through my own two hands. Those years I'd spent by Mom's side had been nothing short of hell. After she and Dad divorced, she'd made me the center of her entire world—wouldn't let me go out, wouldn't let me be picky about food, even controlled the exact fat content of the milk I drank every single day. The smallest thing set off her fists. I wondered if my sister was going to enjoy that particular kind of happiness. I really couldn't wait to find out. Chapter 2 The first person I saw when I got home with Dad was Julia Willis, sitting on the sofa. She was the woman my father used to call his "mistress." She was over forty, but she'd taken good care of herself, and every small movement she made still carried the kind of grace a grown woman earns with time. When she saw me come in, she gave the apron at her waist a nervous little tug. "Anne... your dad mentioned you liked these dishes, so I gave them a try." She hesitated. "If they're not good, just tell me. Don't force yourself to eat something you don't like." I walked straight up to the table without any hesitation, picked up a bite, and ate it. Under their two nervous stares, I let a smile spread across my face. "It's delicious, Aunt Julia. I really like it." Both of them relaxed at once, clearly caught off guard by how I was acting. In my old life, the moment I so much as saw Julia, I'd have gone at her like a wildcat, ready to claw her face off. They had no idea I already knew the whole truth about what had happened between them, years ago. Back then, my father had been riding high in the business world, building something out of nothing, and he and Julia—still just a couple at the time—had been about to get married. Nobody expected my mother, out of her mind even then, to set her sights on him. At a business dinner, my mother had slipped something into his drink and gotten herself pregnant with me. My father had been furious and refused to acknowledge the child, but my mother threatened him: give her a proper place in his life, or she'd accuse him of rape. Julia had watched him claw his way through everything it took to get where he was, and in the end, she chose to sacrifice herself. She left the country in the middle of the night, and the two of them—together for years—were torn apart. My mother was the one who'd destroyed that relationship. And with the way she kept causing trouble afterward, pushing my father past his limit, it was no wonder our family fell apart the way it did. The three of us were finally enjoying a peace that hadn't come easily. I'd just lifted another bite to my mouth when the phone rang. It was my mother. "I didn't expect you to have more of a head on your shoulders than your sister. Playing the pitiful little victim all these years, and when it counts, you still pick the money." The mockery in her voice wasn't even something she bothered hiding. My father's face went dark with anger, ready to argue with her, but I just answered flatly, without a trace of feeling. "If you already understand all that, why bother calling me? I'm busy. The three of us still have dinner to finish." I put extra weight on those words—the three of us—on purpose. My mother clearly hadn't expected me to agree so readily. It took her a few seconds before she came back, colder than before. "Ungrateful little wretch. I'm still your mother. Your father gives you plenty every month. You have to send them all to me." I didn't expect much from her. I'd known from the start she was only calling for money. I spun my spoon lazily between my fingers. "Doesn't Dad send child support every month? Isn't that enough for you two? What am I supposed to live on then?" She let out a scoff. "Your father's rich enough, isn't he? Go ask him for more! Your sister's different from you—I'm raising her right. Once she's made something of herself, she'll take good care of you." She said it so naturally, like sacrificing herself and Keira for me was some kind of honor she was bestowing on me. Just as selfish as she'd always been. I didn't bother wasting more words on her. "Sure. The two of you can kneel and beg me thirty times a month, and I'll wire the money over." That answer set her off immediately—she started shrieking through the phone. I just set it down on the table and let her talk to herself until she wore herself out and hung up. 'Mom, when are you finally going to understand? I saw through you a long time ago.' Chapter 3 The classroom noise died the instant I walked in. Every head turned toward me at once, every pair of eyes thick with disgust and contempt, as if I'd committed some unforgivable sin. But with a grown woman's soul inside a teenager's body, why would I care what any of them thought? I got to my seat and found my desk covered edge to edge in scrawled handwriting. [Gold digger! Taking the mistress's side! Shameless!] [Betrayed her own sister and mother! No regard for family! Tramp!] [Fake and holier-than-thou!] Lines like that jabbed straight into my eyes. Everyone was waiting for me to explode, or maybe collapse over my desk sobbing—those were the only two outcomes they could picture. Some of them had actual bets riding on it. Instead, I just wiped the words off my desk and pulled out my textbook, my expression blank, seconds before our homeroom teacher walked in. Nobody could focus through that whole class period. The second the bell rang and the teacher stepped out, I marched straight to Keira's desk and grabbed her by the arm before she could slip out with her pack of delinquent friends for a smoke. Her eyes went wide with shock right before my hand reached out to slap her face. The sound rang clean through the whole classroom. She clutched her reddened cheek, her voice shaking with fury. "You tramp! You actually hit me!" I raised my hand and hit her again. That was when the thugs standing around her decided they'd had enough. This particular crowd didn't do a single productive thing at school—fighting, smoking, drinking, causing trouble wherever they went—and the rest of us good students were terrified of them. Everyone gave Keira a wide berth because of it. Today, with someone finally standing up to her in the open, the whole room went dead silent out of fear. In my last life, I'd spent my school years living in the shadow of people exactly like this. As an adult, I'd taken up taekwondo and kickboxing just to protect myself. I never thought I'd actually get the chance to settle an old score. One of the thugs stepped up to me and realized, to her visible discomfort, that she had to tilt her head back just to meet my eyes. "You've got a death wish, huh? You don't want to live anymore?" I looked down at her and barely moved my lips. "Meet me in the bathroom." Then I turned and walked out, leaving them nothing but the sight of my back. None of them had expected me to challenge them so openly, right out in the daylight—and if they let that slide, how were they supposed to keep their reputation? They scrambled out of the classroom after me, practically racing each other. The screaming that came out of that bathroom later reached all the way to the principal's office. By the time they were dragged into the principal's office, limping and bruised, my father was already there waiting. He confirmed I wasn't hurt before he slammed his hand on the desk and demanded the school give us an explanation. Aunt Julia was even more dramatic, sobbing into a tissue. "Anne has been spoiled her whole life at home—when has she ever had to put up with something like this?" The thugs were stunned twice over. First, that I could actually fight well enough to do that kind of damage to them. Second, that I was somehow the one being treated as the victim instead of the one responsible. I suppose they were just too young to understand how far money and power could stretch in the real world. In the end, once Keira's little crew got out of the hospital, the school handed down disciplinary action. They had to read their self-criticisms out loud in front of the entire school—a humiliation they wouldn't live down for a while. Meanwhile, I—a nobody who'd just transferred in—had made a name for myself in a single afternoon. After that, I made a habit of finding Keira after class and taking whatever cash she had on her. Sure enough, after a few rounds of it, my mother lost it completely. She cut off Keira's allowance and started keeping her on a much tighter leash. Keira never dared act out again—every time she looked at me after that, there was fear in her eyes, and something that looked a lot like regret. Regretting it, now? A little too late for that. Chapter 4 By the time we were two-thirds through junior year, Nicolas Ferrell came into my life. Just like in my last life, he'd barely had a few days to settle back in the country before his family shipped him off to our school, straight into the honors class at the district's top high school. He didn't look anything like the rest of us bookworms—tall, good-looking, he stood out the second he walked through the door. I had to admit, that face of his really did the work. Otherwise, even with everything else I had going on, I wouldn't have bothered carving out time to figure out how to win him over. But honestly, what interested me most was his family—the golden son of one of the city's most powerful circles. He was my best shot at finally getting free of my mother's grip for good. I counted down the seconds in my head. Three, two, one— "Ah! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to!" The stack of files in Keira's arms hit the floor right as she crashed into Nicolas, her wide, innocent eyes blinking up at him. She'd even worn oversized colored contacts for the occasion—the whole pitiable-and-adorable act. Watching a scene play out that was identical, beat for beat, to what had happened to me in my last life, I nearly burst out laughing. She hadn't put an ounce of her own thought into it. A total copy job. Nicolas, understandably annoyed at being run into out of nowhere, wasn't in a great mood. But good breeding kept him from making a scene—he helped her pick everything up off the floor and walked off without another word. Keira stood frozen where she was, clutching her files, refusing to accept it. "That's not possible. There's no way!" In my last life, after he'd bumped into me, he hadn't just left his number—he'd asked me out to dinner. Our relationship had taken off fast, and by graduation, we'd naturally ended up together. She'd copied my exact playbook, hadn't she? So why had he walked away this time? She had no idea that the reason he'd left his number with me back then wasn't the collision itself—it was the anime poster tucked in among my files. It happened to be his favorite character. Running into someone who liked the same obscure show, in a place that random, had felt like finding family. It made it easy for him to drop his guard around me, to gravitate toward me without even thinking about it. That was what happened when you tried to copy someone's homework without doing your own research first. I clicked my tongue and shook my head. The second she saw me, she instinctively covered her face with her hands, terrified I'd storm over and slap her again. I'd really left that girl with some lasting trauma. I was just getting ready to walk over and strike up a conversation with Nicolas when our homeroom teacher came rushing in, flustered, and pulled me aside. "Anne McKellen... your mother's waiting for you at the school gate." That was the last thing I expected. Ever since I'd gone to live with my father, my mother had all but cut off contact with me—the only time she ever reached out was to ask for money, and I'd blocked her number a long time ago. So why was she suddenly here to bother me again? I watched Nicolas's back disappear down the hallway, knowing it was too late to catch him now, and hurried out to the school gate. My mother was standing there in an outdated, garish outfit, and the second she spotted me, a thin smile spread across her face. "Living the good life's made you forget all about your own mother, has it? And running around shopping with that shameless woman, on top of it! You think you're good enough to wear clothes like that?" Her eyes dropped to the shoes on my feet—shoes that cost more than a month of her living expenses—and something bitter and unhinged flickered behind them as she ground her teeth. I instinctively took a step back. "What did you call me out here for? I have to get back to class. My finals are coming up. Can you not bother me right now?" The memories from my last life were still too raw and painful for me to feel anything close to warmth toward her. When she saw me start to turn away, her expression twisted. She flung her hand out. Everything went black, and I lost consciousness. When I opened my eyes again, I was in some dim, unfamiliar warehouse.