- Robinson, if you’re going to listen to Bethany so readily, maybe she should be the one paying your wages.”
“I don’t repeat myself. Clear this table. I want
sea bass tonight. If I don’t get it, you can pack your bags and take early retirement.”
I turned and went upstairs. As I did, I heard Mrs. Robinson and Mr. Davis whispering.
“What’s gotten into Miss Melissa today?”
“She never used to care about these things.”
Lying exhausted on my bed after making a
phone call, I stared at the ceiling, rubbing my throbbing head.
Mrs. Robinson was right. The old me wouldn’t
have cared about any of this.
<
But at the school gates, Bethany’s actions had
triggered a memory.
That’s when I was reborn.
In my past life, she’d pulled the same stunt,
deliberately humiliating me in public, kicking me
out of the car and letting the whole school think
I was a freeloading, shameless mooch.
I’d planned to set the record straight at the
parent–teacher conference and expose
Bethany’s lies.
But my mom showed up instead of Bethany’s
parents and announced to everyone that
Bethany was her only daughter.
I’d cried, asking her why she was doing this to
me, why she wouldn’t acknowledge me as her
own. She’d just waved her hand dismissively
and “clarified” to everyone, “Who’s your
mother? You’re just our housekeeper’s
<
daughter. We took pity on you and supported
you, and now you’re delusional enough to think
you deserve something more. Disgraceful!”
Her words were like a thunderbolt, casting me
into hell.
Emboldened by my mom’s favoritism, Bethany
had become even bolder. She not only
instigated bullying against me, driving me to the
brink of depression, but also manipulated the
situation to isolate me further.
I’d called my dad, sobbing, telling him about
everything. He’d rushed back from abroad, only
to die in a plane crash. My grandmother, my
only other source of support, had died from a
fall after hearing about my dad’s death.
Still a minor, I was left with nothing as my mom
inherited everything. After inheriting my dad’s
company and all his assets, she immediately
legally adopted Bethany. To prevent me from
<
challenging her control of the company once I
turned eighteen, they concocted a story about
me having a mental breakdown and had me
committed to a psychiatric hospital.
Under their instructions, I was tortured and
eventually killed in that hospital. It was only
then, just before my death, that I learned a
shocking truth: Bethany White, the woman I’d
called “Mom” for seventeen years, wasn’t my
real mother.
The memories of my past life’s suffering
flashed before my eyes. I didn’t need to make
any grand vows to the heavens. Being given a
second chance was vow enough. Those who
hurt me would pay. And those who truly loved
and cared for me, I would protect them. I
wouldn’t let them meet the same fate as
before.
After some time, there was a knock on my door.
Mrs. Robinson called hesitantly from outside,
inviting me downstairs for dinner.
The dining table had been transformed. My
favorite pan–fried sea bass sat in the center,
surrounded by other dishes I loved, mostly
seafood. Mrs. Robinson watched me nervously,
almost pleadingly, calling me “Miss Melissa.”
I didn’t respond, didn’t even look at her. I just
sat down and started eating, savoring every
bite.
The taste of the sea bass melted in my mouth,
salty and sweet, a taste of the ocean. I ate it
slowly, bite by bite. It was a dish I could have
had anytime in my past life, but it had taken a
lifetime to taste it again.
Bethany was allergic to seafood, so after she
came to live with us, seafood had vanished
from our table.
But why? This wasn’t the White residence!
<
I had finally tasted the dish I missed from my
past life. From this day forward, I would fulfill
every regret, one by one.
My mom returned with Bethany, whose arm was
now in a sling. The first thing they saw was me
feasting on a table full of seafood.
The smell made Bethany’s face go pale. She
gagged dramatically, then, catching my mom’s
eye, covered her mouth and apologized for
losing control.
My mom, already furious about Bethany’s
injury, flew into a rage. Ignoring the fact that I
was eating, she swept the dishes off the table,
sending seafood flying.
“Eating! You have some nerve!”
“After what you did to Bethany, how can you
even eat? And seafood, of all things? You
selfish brat, you know she’s allergic!”
9.28
<
>
“What do I care if she’s allergic?” I met my
mom’s gaze.
In my past life, she’d always told everyone I was ill–tempered and spoiled, unlike the sweet and obedient Bethany. I’d tried to win her approval
by being, never competing or complaining.
But she’d just accuse me of being manipulative
and deceitful.
Since nothing I did pleased her, I might as well show her what a real spoiled brat could be like.
I took the half–eaten crab leg from my mouth
and flung it at Bethany.
My aim was true. It landed squarely on her face,
eliciting a scream.
I sneered. “She’s a charity case living off our
family’s generosity. Why should I, the actual
daughter of this house, have to cater to her?”
“She’s nothing. I’m being generous just by
letting her have my leftovers. She’s acting like
she’s someone important in this family. She
needs to take a look in the mirror and see if
she’s even worthy.”
