Chapter 1

Olivia Carter said she was scared of the orphanage director, so she kept me hidden when I was five, robbing me of eighteen years of my life.

In my previous life, I dragged my crippled right leg as I confronted her. She jumped to her death. My parents called me a murderer, and my foster brother kept me locked by his side, forcing me to pay for what I'd done.

Having come back from the dead and returned to the day I first saw the post, I cleared my records and pretended nothing had changed.

You want to be the Carter Heiress? I only want to get back what's rightfully mine.

But fate played a cruel joke on me. I've got terminal leukemia.

If I'm not long for this world, then I'll make sure every last one of my enemies burns with me.

*****

The glow from my phone screen lit up my pale face.

The pinned headline on the trending list burned into my eyes like a red-hot iron: [The Carter Family Secret: Real and Fake Heiress Swapped Lives for Eighteen Years, Fake Heiress Posts Apology].

When I clicked in, Olivia's tear-streaked face appeared, along with a lengthy message.

[I'm sorry, Emily Carter. I never meant to steal your life. When I was five, I was terrified of the new orphanage director, so I hid you in the abandoned storage room.

[I truly didn't know the door would jam, making you miss your chance to be reunited with your real parents.

[For eighteen years, I've lived every day with guilt and fear, receiving the love from your parents that was meant for you. Now, I'm willing to give up everything. Please, forgive me.]

The comments section was blowing up.

[Oh my god, Liv is so kind. She was just a kid back then.]

[I feel so bad for Liv. She's a victim too. Those eighteen years must've been hell for her.]

[What about the real heiress? She already apologized. Is she really going to keep holding a grudge?]

I stared at the screen, my face blank, my fingertips cold.

In my previous life, I saw that post at this exact moment.

I dragged my right leg, scarred from the orphanage fire, and stormed into the Carter Estate, confronting Olivia with my phone.

I demanded to know why she hid me, why she stood by as the director beat me, as the other kids bullied me, as the fire ruined half my leg, and never lifted a finger to help.

She didn't answer. She only sobbed out an apology, then right in front of everyone, she leapt from the second-floor balcony.

She survived, but ended up with a broken leg.

But to my parents and my brother, I was the executioner, the one who nearly killed her.

My father, Richard Carter, jabbed his finger at me and called me vicious, saying our family would never have a daughter as narrow-minded as me.

My mother, Helen Carter, hugged Olivia and sobbed until her heart broke, her gaze slicing into me like poisoned blades.

And Andrew Carter, the so-called brother who always stood by Olivia, locked me in the attic, tormenting me day after day, forcing me to "atone" for Olivia.

He said, "Emily, you destroyed Liv's leg. You'll pay for it with your whole life."

I was tortured to death, swallowed up by endless misery and pain.

When I woke up, I was back on the day I first saw that post.

The familiar scent of disinfectant hit my nose. My right leg was whole again, but my body felt drained and sore in ways I couldn't describe.

I glanced down at the sheet of paper I was clutching.

It was a medical report.

[Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia (Late Stage)]

I suddenly burst into laughter, the sound growing louder, rattling my chest with pain, and tears spilled out uncontrollably.

Isn't that great.

Looks like fate finally tossed me a lifeline.

If I'm not long for this world, what is there left to fear?

Olivia wanted to play the innocent Carter heiress, my parents wanted to keep their picture-perfect family of four, and Andrew wanted to be the loving brother.

But me? I only wanted to drag every single one of them straight to hell with my own hands before I died.

I calmly wiped every trace of that post from my browsing history, then pulled out the IV needle from my hand and walked out of the hospital.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, the screen lighting up with "Dad" flashing across it.