Chapter 1

My parents locked me in a shabby apartment for three days and nights to force me to raise my sister's son, Karen Lee, after she committed suicide.

I suffered from formaldehyde poisoning, and my baby died in my womb. During the surgery, they bribed the doctor to remove my uterus.

My dad said, "Now you can focus on raising Karen, and your sister can rest in peace."

Twenty years later, I turned Karen into a business tycoon, but then I found out I had stomach cancer.

The doctor said 100 thousand would be enough to cover my treatment.

Karen sneered, "She's not even my real mother. Why should I be the one to pay? Besides, she's the reason my parents spent most of their lives apart."

It wasn't until much later that I realized Jane had never died at all.

All these years, she'd been living it up overseas on the cash my parents bled from me, staging one dramatic you-run-I-chase act with some hotshot CEO.

Just when I hit rock bottom, the CEO hauled my sister, Jane Lee, home. Karen, Jane, and the CEO reunited as the perfect little family.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Jane got thrown out of the Goodman family.

Now that I had been given a second chance at life, I was cutting all ties. This family meant nothing to me anymore.

*****

My dad said, "Jane's too young to crash here. You'll foot the bill for overseas school and raise Karen. Half this mess is yours. 'Big sister equals mom, remember? So how'd you let her slip this far?"

My dad knocked on the table, his voice leaving no room for argument as he laid down the law.

My mom was cradling three-year-old Karen, rocking him gently while eyeing me with suspicion.

I zoned out for a moment, glancing at Jane. She was striking poses for selfies right in front of her phone, her face totally carefree, not a single hint of worry.

Ever since we were kids, no matter how much trouble Jane got herself into, my parents always found a way to bail her out.

When she cheated on a test, I took the blame for her.

When she got expelled from school, my parents traded away my three-year research project just to keep her enrolled.

Now she was acting out her own soap-opera script with Zack Goodman: stand-in, baby and all, while I got the mop-up job for her shotgun pregnancy.

In my previous life, I was three months pregnant and refused to go along with their plan. Jane got furious and tried to drown herself in the river.

So my parents locked me in a tiny rental that reeked of formaldehyde for three days straight.

By the time they let me out, I could barely stand. My lungs were filling with fluid, and the baby had already died. They rushed me into emergency surgery to scrape what was left from my womb.

My parents even bribed the doctor to take out my uterus while I was unconscious.

They called it my punishment for refusing Jane, saying that now I could devote myself to Karen alone, as if that would make up for it.

Just thinking back on everything from my previous life, a wave of hatred welled up inside me. I let out a bitter laugh.

I snapped, "His parents are right here, so why am I the one stuck raising Karen?"

My mom's face darkened at my sarcasm. She stormed over and slapped me hard across the face.

The sting on my cheek was nothing compared to the ache in my heart.

My dad, barely holding back his anger, snapped, "What, now that you've made a little money, you think you're all that? Think you can just fly the coop?"

If they couldn't keep leeching off me, they'd be miserable.

In my previous life, I just couldn't figure it out.

I kept thinking I must've messed up somehow, that it was my fault they always resented me.

I gave everything I had, bent over backwards to please them, just hoping for a single word of approval.

Now I refused to let them walk all over me, and they got pissed.

Seeing my silence, my dad said, "Don't look at me like that. Give me 330 thousand right now. I don't trust you with that kind of money."

"That's right. If you don't hand it over today, don't even think about leaving this house," my mom snarled, her voice full of menace.

Their demand was a joke: my money, my grind, their greedy hands.

Without a second thought, I pulled out my phone and called the cops.

When the police showed up, I stood my ground and said, "This is robbery. The law talks about support, not a 330 thousand ransom for no reason."

My parents looked embarrassed and annoyed, trying to play nice with the cops.

"This is just a family matter. She's just being petty and sulking," my mom said, trying to downplay it.

Then she turned on me and snapped, "You cold-blooded wretch. So now you call the police? What, you planning to get the whole family thrown in jail next?"

I just smiled and said, "If you guys weren't so hung up on my money, the cops wouldn't even be here, would they?"

My mom's face turned beet red with rage as she jabbed a finger at me, yelling her head off.

She scoffed, "You traitor to your own family. Listen up, Yara Lee. I gave birth to you, so your whole life is mine. Every cent you earn, I deserve it."

My dad jumped in, too, his voice full of disgust. He said, "We never should've had you. All you ever do is make our lives miserable."

Their faces twisted with disgust, and I felt a chill run straight through my heart.

Even after living again, the slap of their rejection still burned.

My eyes turned icy, colder than ever.

I said coldly, "From now on, just treat me like I'm dead to you."

As soon as I said that, my dad's expression changed instantly. He snatched up his thermos and hurled it right at me.

Everyone was stunned.

Pain shot through my forehead, and a warm stream of blood started running down my face.

Funny thing was, I couldn't even feel the pain anymore.

I stood up, wrapped a tissue around my forehead, and made sure every word landed. I said, "From now on, you get the legal minimum, nothing more."

My voice was ice-cold, not a trace of feeling.