Chapter 1

My sister, Vanessa Blair, loves romance novels. She's obsessed with poor girls who rescue mysterious men and marry into wealth.

So she started rescuing every random guy she found.

Then one day, a man covered in open sores collapsed on our doorstep.

I'm a doctor, so I knew immediately it was syphilis. I talked her out of taking him in.

But her best friend, Lucia Vance, took him instead, and ended up marrying into a rich family, becoming the rich man's wife.

Vanessa blamed me. On my birthday, she locked me in my room and set the house on fire.

I begged her to open the door. She wouldn't.

Through the flames, she screamed, "You just couldn't stand to see me happy. You wanted us both stuck in this miserable life together. You were never a real sister to me."

I burned alive. When they found me, there wasn't a patch of unburned skin left.

Then I opened my eyes. I was back on the day she found that man.

This time, I stepped aside and let her have him.

My skin burned so badly I couldn't think. I twisted the doorknob, pounded on the door, and begged Vanessa.

"Vanessa, please don't do this! I'm in pain. Open the door, I'm begging you."

Vanessa's cold voice chilled me through the door.

"Clara, you're so damn noble, aren't you? Cost me my shot at being a rich man's wife, and now someone else is living my life. You want us both to fall. You deserve to die!"

I thought the fire was an accident, but it was Vanessa's doing.

Smoke seared my lungs. Every breath was agony. I had nothing left—no strength to beg, no voice to plead. The flames found me, and I crumpled to the floor. The door never opened.

If I'd known protecting Vanessa would cost me my life, I never would have gotten involved.

A bright light hit my eyes. When I opened them, Vanessa stood beside me, excitedly pointing at the sore-covered man at the door.

She exclaimed, "Clara! Could this guy be a fallen rich heir? In novels, the heroine saves an injured hero with amnesia, then marries into a wealthy family and changes her fate!"

Vanessa's excitement felt like a past life.

Am I reborn?

In my past life, Vanessa and I came home from work to find a man sprawled at our door. Vanessa said it looked like a novel scene.

Before that, she tried to "rescue" many people—a psych ward runaway, a homeless man—but none of it mattered.

Vanessa loved reading over-the-top CEO romances and was nearly obsessed.

Whenever Vanessa picked up strays, and I cleaned up after her. When we met that guy, I, a med student then, saw he had syphilis. I pulled Vanessa back and warned her it was dangerous.

Vanessa was shaken, and her eyes showed she wasn't happy even after I convinced her.

Unexpectedly, Vanessa's friend Luciarescued a man who then married her out of gratitude. He was the billionaire's illegitimate son, inheriting after the legitimate heir died and the old man had no other heirs.

When Vanessa learned this, she blamed me for ruining her dream and plotted to kill me in a staged fire.

Now that I've reborned, I decided to drop my savior complex and focus on my own life.

"Clara, aren't you going to say something?" Vanessa urged, breaking my thoughts.

A sharp pain jolted me as Vanessa's fresh nails dug into my arm, leaving marks instantly.

I fought the urge to throttle her and forced a smile.

"Of course. You've failed many times—maybe you'll get lucky this time," I said to her.

Vanessa eyed me, curious why I acted differently. Usually, she'd lead, eager to take the guy home, but now I hung back, letting her lead.

"You studied medicine, right? Could his rashes be contagious?" she asked uncertainly.

She stayed back, avoiding closer approach.

I scoffed. She's not as clueless as I thought. Before, she insisted on touching him despite me stopping her. Now, when I let her, she hesitates.