Chapter 2

In my last life, this moment made me feel so guilty I immediately agreed to resign. But now, as I stared at the woman who would one day strip me of everything, my heart felt nothing.

"Mom, I'll take care of you," I said calmly. "But Coraline and Dariel need to step up too. I've made a schedule. We'll take turns, all three of us. It's fair."

The room went dead silent. A flicker of shock crossed Mom's cloudy eyes, quickly replaced by anger. "You... you..."

"Mom, please calm down!" Coraline rushed to comfort her, then shot me a furious glare. "See what you've done!"

Dariel finally put down his phone, frowning. "Anabel, are you out of your mind?"

I pulled out the schedule I'd already made and set it down on the nightstand. "I spoke with the doctor. Mom's going to need at least three months to recover. So, each of us takes two days a week, and for the leftover day, we hire a caregiver. We all chip in for the costs."

Mom suddenly started coughing hard, her hand shaking as she jabbed a finger at me. "Get out... just get out..."

I calmly grabbed my bag. "Alright, I'm leaving. I'll show up on time for my shift tomorrow." As I turned to go, I caught Coraline and Dariel trading a nervous glance.

As I walked out of the hospital, the spring sunshine warmed my face. I took a deep breath, soaking in a freedom I hadn't tasted in forever.

This time, I wouldn't let history repeat itself.

Back in my cramped little apartment, I locked the door tight and slumped to the floor, my back pressed against the cold wood.

My fingers shook uncontrollably. I bit down so hard on my lower lip that the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth before I finally let go.

This wasn't a dream. I was really back to fifteen years ago. This was real.

My work notebook was spread out on the coffee table, staring me down with a big, bold reminder: tomorrow at 9 a.m. There would be a crucial client meeting, the one I blew off in my last life, the one that slammed the door on my promotion.

I snatched up the notebook, the pages crackling between my fingers. Every sheet was like a slap in the face, showing me all the chances I'd tossed away myself.

In the bathroom, I twisted the tap and let cold water hit my face. When I looked up, the reflection staring back at me was still fresh, no dark circles, no fine lines from endless nights at Mom's bedside.

My hair was thick and glossy, not the dry, frayed mess it would become after years of running myself ragged.

My phone buzzed with a WhatsApp notification. In the family group chat, Coraline had just posted a photo of Mom hooked up to an IV.

She said: [The doctor says Mom needs round-the-clock care. Dariel and I can't get away. Anabel, you need to take the day off and come over right now.]

I scoffed, my fingers flying across the screen as I typed back: [According to the schedule, it's your turn today, Coraline. I've got a client meeting tomorrow morning, but I'll be there on the dot at eight tonight to take over.]

As soon as I hit send, my phone started ringing. It was Coraline.

"Anabel, do you even have a heart?" she shrieked. "Mom can't even go to the bathroom by herself! How am I supposed to handle this? And I still have to pick up my kid from kindergarten!"

I walked over to my desk, grabbed a brand-new notebook, and scrawled "Evidence Log" across the first page. Then I hit record on my phone and put it on speaker.

"Coraline, didn't you hire a nanny to look after your kid?" I kept my voice steady. "And you know Mom loves you the most. She'll bounce back way faster if you're there."

There was a long pause on the other end. "When did you get so cold?" Coraline's voice cracked, on the verge of tears. "Mom raised us all by herself. Now she needs us..."

Back then, that kind of talk always made me cave. But now, all I could picture was her standing in front of Mom's house, her perfectly manicured finger jabbing at me as she sneered, "You've had it easy for fifteen years."

"I love Mom," I said, speaking clearly into the recorder. "That's why I suggested a fair schedule. If it's really not possible for you today, we can get a professional caregiver and split the cost evenly."

"A caregiver? Do you have any idea how expensive that is?" Coraline snapped, her voice going sharp again. "200 dollars a day! You gonna pay for that?"

I opened my notebook and wrote down her response. "Then let's stick to the schedule. I've got work to do, so I'm hanging up now."

After I hung up, I logged the time, our conversation, and every important detail in my notebook. Last time, I got screwed over because I never had proof. This time, I'm recording every dodge, every guilt trip, every single word.

My phone buzzed again. It was Dariel. [Anabel, I just started this job, and I really can't take time off. Mom's always loved you the most. Can't you show some understanding for Coraline and me?]

I shot back: [I just got nominated for a promotion too. Understanding goes both ways. The schedule's already in the group chat. If neither of you shows up today, I'll get the hospital social worker involved.]

After sending that message, I shut off my phone and went straight to my closet, laying out the navy blue suit I'd wear tomorrow.

Last time, that suit spent months stuffed in a hospital locker, reeking of disinfectant and splattered with medicine stains. But in this life, it was going to shine at the biggest moment of my career.