Chapter 2

I hired someone to look for my adoptive parents, but all I got was the news that they'd already moved away.

It was like they'd vanished into thin air, never showing up in my life again.

Everything seemed to confirm what my birth parents said was true.

When I first learned I was actually an heiress, I didn't hold any grudges about the eighteen years I spent with my adoptive family.

They were always good to me, giving me a loving home.

But once their kindness came with strings attached, all that warmth started to feel like a way to control me.

I started to hate them, hate that their love was never real, hate that they stole me away and used me for themselves.

I hit rock bottom for a while, but eventually tried to accept my birth parents and wanted them to care about me for real.

My older sister bailed on her wedding and jetted off overseas, so I got roped into her place for the family's sake.

Not only did I have to face a man I didn't love every day, but I also had to hustle for business deals while my mom sobbed and guilt-tripped me into keeping the company afloat.

I spent years just going through the motions, barely even living.

After dying from a serious illness, I thought I'd finally be free. But instead, I woke up as my younger self. And this time, the truth hit me right in the face.

My adoptive parents never kidnapped me. My birth parents abandoned me just because I was sickly.

If they could lie about something this huge, then everything else they told me was probably just a bunch of lies too.

I looked at my adoptive mom, confused. 'If they never tried to use me or expected anything in return, then why did they change their numbers and move away, disappearing from my life?'

Unable to make sense of it all, I just lay in her arms, slowly sipping the hot soup, my mind tangled in questions.

"Mom, Dad, I'm home." A familiar, young voice called out. Startled, I looked up, eyes wide, and locked eyes with him.

It was Drake Henderson, my adoptive parents' son and my brother in name. He'd always spoiled me.

I remembered how, when we were kids, he'd always make sure I got the good stuff before anyone else.

I looked at my brother, curious and about to give him a smile, but he just frowned, shooting me a look like I was some kind of intruder.

"Who's this kid supposed to be?" Drake asked.

It was freezing outside, and his cheeks were red from the cold.

My adoptive dad smiled as he poured him a cup of hot water. "Picked her up out in the snow. Poor thing. She's your little sister from now on."

I was still surprised by how standoffish my brother was acting when he made a show of being annoyed, his face all scrunched up. "You can tell she was abandoned. Why'd you even bring her back?"

I was shocked. In my memories, Drake had never even said a harsh word to me. 'Why is he suddenly so cold?'

I stared at him without blinking.

Drake noticed me staring and shot me a glare, looking all serious like a little adult.

"Did you swallow a stick of dynamite today? Why are you talking with so much attitude?" my adoptive dad said, his face falling as he looked at Drake.

Drake sulked, his little face set in stubborn defiance. "Seriously, she got dumped. So why do we have to take her in? What's she got to do with our family anyway?"

The softness in Mom's eyes vanished. She clenched her jaw at Drake, her smile all teeth and no warmth. "Drake Henderson, you itching for a spanking or what?"

Drake jerked and shut his mouth instantly.

Dad didn't let him have the coffee anymore, slamming the cup down on the table with a stern look. "From now on, she's your own sister.

"If I ever catch you or your mom messing with her behind my back, you'll be getting a serious whooping."

Drake went silent for a moment, then muttered, "Got it."

Drake was forced to accept me, but for the next few days, he just kept giving me the cold shoulder.

At first, I figured he just hadn't warmed up to me yet and was sulking on his own.

But later, I realized things weren't quite what I'd imagined.

The Hendersons lived in a small village, just getting by. Dad worked odd jobs out of town to keep us afloat.

Mom saw how scrawny I was and, worried that the flour porridge wasn't enough, went out of her way to trade some eggs with the neighbors for goat milk.

While Mom was busy heating up the milk, Drake leaned over the bed, shooting me a nasty glare.

He poked my cheek, muttering a warning under his breath, "You're not part of our family. You don't belong here. Just leave as soon as you can."

His voice was dead serious, and there was a kind of grown-up look in his eyes you'd never expect from a kid his age.

I stared at him, and suddenly, a wild thought popped into my head. 'Could Drake have been reborn too?'

I had no proof, so for now, it was just a question mark in my head.