Chapter 2
“Mabel, why are you standing there like a statue? Your sister wants that red dress of yours. Are you deaf or just stupid?” someone yelled.
The sharp voice cut through the air, snapping Mabel out of her daze like a cold slap across the face.
The memory of seawater flooding her mouth, its salty burn filling her lungs, was still fresh too fresh. Just moments ago, she’d been certain her soul was floating above it all, weightless and detached. But now? Now, she was grounded in a world. that was all too solid.
Her legs trembled as though they belonged to someone else, and she stumbled back a step, barely steadying herself.
The sensation of her bare feet gripping the floor was shockingly real. Her eyes darted around the room, taking in every familiar detail. She knew exactly where she was: her bedroom in the Harper family’s house.
Her gaze dropped to her legs – whole and unmarred. Then her trembling fingers brushed against her face. Smooth skin met her touch. The disfiguring scars she remembered were gone, as if they had never existed.
Then Mabel caught her reflection in the full–length mirror. The face staring back at her was softer, fresher, undeniably younger. A gasp escaped her lips as realization struck her like a thunderclap: she had been reborn.
Fate – or something else had given her a second chance, hurtling her back to her senior year of high school, back to the year when Rhea, the family’s long–lost biological daughter, had been brought home
And there they were – Rhea and their mother, Mrs. Beatrice Harper – standing by Mabel’s closet, casually pointing and chatting as if it belonged to them.
Mabel took a few seconds to process what had happened.
They were the very people who had orchestrated her downfall, the ones who had manipulated her, stolen from her. destroyed her.
Rage coursed through Mabel’s veins like molten lava, and her nails dug into her palms, the sting grounding her in the moment. If she had a blade in her hand, she wouldn’t have hesitated to use it..
Beatrice turned toward her with a haughty sneer, her expression pinched with annoyance. “What’s with that face? All Rhea wants is one of your dresses. Stop acting like this. Who are you trying to intimidate?”
Standing demurely beside her, Rhea radiated innocence in a white puff–sleeve dress that practically screamed purity. Seventeen years old and dripping with sweetness, her teary eyes glistened at her mother’s rebuke. Rhea tilted her head, her voice soft and trembling. “Mom, don’t be mad at her. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have said anything about the dress. I… I just thought it was beautiful, and I’ve never touched anything like that before coming home… that’s all.”
Her words quivered as if she were carrying the weight of the world on her tiny, delicate shoulders. The perfect picture–of fragile sorrow.
Mabel’s stomach churned. She had lived this exact scene before. Ever since Rhea’s return, this theatrical mother–daughter duo had turned her life into a waking nightmare.
They had waltzed into her room without so much as a knock, pawing through her belongings as if they were entitled to them. If Rhea wanted something, she got it. And if Mabel hesitated, Mr. and Mrs. Harper, the adoptive parents Mabel had once trusted, always had a ready lecture.
“Be kind, Mabel, Beatrice and Dale would say. “You’ve been so lieky, Rhea wasn’t. She suffered so much before coming home. You’re the big sis here. Anything she wants, you give her. n’t that what family does?”
Naive, trusting Mabel had believed every word. She gave and gage earrings, bracelets, clothes, and bags. Then her fiancé,
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Chapter 2
Thu, Dec
Then her fortune, Until, at last, they took away her last breath.
Mabel’s bloodshot eyes gradually regained their calm. A bitter chill settled in her heart as she thought about her past self–so naive and foolish to have let this family push her to her death.
She had figured it out now. Killing them outright would be too merciful. It wouldn’t even come close to quelling the hatred burning in her chest. Since she’d been granted a second chance, she wouldn’t let a single one of them off the hook. The forment she endured in her last life the bone–deep, soul–crushing agony would all be returned to them, every single
ounce.
Beatrice glanced at Rhea’s teary, delicate face and immediately melted with maternal affection. She wrapped her daughter in a tight embrace, coaxing her softly. “Don’t cry, Rhea, it’s all Mabel’s fault. You’ve done nothing wrong. You’re MY precious daughter. Everything in this house is yours to take.”
Beatrice’s guilt over being separated from her real daughter for over a decade made her eager to shower Rhea with everything she had. She would have plucked stars from the sky if Rhea asked, let alone give away a few dresses belonging to their “cheap” adopted daughter..
Rhea leaned into Beatrice’s shoulder, her face pressed close. Where Beatrice couldn’t see, Rhea shot Mabel a smug, taunting look, arching her brows in open provocation.
Mabel knew this act all too well. Around this time in her last life, Rhea had started dropping the pure, innocent act when they were alone. While she played the pitiful damsel in front of others, she mocked and belinled Mabel in private. And Mabel’s relentless attempts to please her only encouraged her to escalate her abuse.
In her last life, Rhea had also wanted this very red dress. Back then, Mabel had still harbored some sympathy for her newfound sister and had earnestly told her the truth: the dress wouldn’t fit her. She even offered to take Rhea shopping for a brand–new one.
It was a reasonable suggestion. Rhea was half a head shorter than her and at least twenty pounds heavier. A dress that didn’t fit was useless.
Rhea, however, had blown up. She burst into tears, wailing that Mabel was body–shaming her, mocking her looks. Sniffling pitifully, she cried to their parents, “If only I had grown up in the Harper family, eating proper meals every day. I’d be as tall and slender as her…”
Mabel had tried every which way to explain herself, but it was no use. The house descended into chaos, and Beatrice everitually stepped in. Right in front of both girls, she snipped the beautiful red dress into ribbons. Only then did Rhea’s anger subside.
Pitying her enemy had been Mabel’s greatest mistake. This time, she wouldn’t give Rhea even the smallest opportunity to turn the tables on her.
Mabel’s lips curved into a serene smile. Her voice was calm, even cheerful. “Of course! It’s just a dress. If Rhea likes it, give it to her. This dress will look so good on you….” She paused, feigning thoughtfulness. “Oh, and why stop there? Look around in my closet. Anything else you like, feel free to take it all.”
The mother and daughter duo froze mid–embrace, momentarily stunned. They hadn’t expected Mabel to agree so easily, without even a hint of hesitation.
Although the family was wealthy, the allowance they gave Mabel as their adopted daughter was meager. This red dress, worth a few hundred dollars, was something she had painstakingly saved up for months to buy. It was supposed to be her outfit for her upcoming eighteenth birthday party.
Mabel’s quick and generous agreement left Rhea feeling oddly unsettled. She stammered, “No, no, just this one is enough… I’m not as pretty as you. I don’t deserve such beautiful dresses…
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Rhea’s usual “I don’t deserve act was in full swing, her words dripping with practiced humility that would make even the most seasoned actresses envious.
And as always, Beatrice lapped it up. Her expression softened, her maternal instincts practically glowing. Seeing her daughter act so “self–conscious” tugged at her heartstrings like nothing else. Beatrice was already gearing up to scold Mabel, likely with another tired lecture on sisterly generosity, when Mabel struck first.
“Mom, this is COMPLETELY your fault! Mabel exclaimed, her tone a perfect blend of mock reproach and eager excitement. “How could you let Rhea fall short of dresses? Aren’t you hosting a grand banquet for her this weekend? We should head to the mall RIGHT NOW and get her a whole new wardrobe!”
Beatrice froze, her carefully rehearsed reprimand derailed.
Mabel’s words mirrored her own. delivered with such enthusiasm that they left her momentarily speechless..
“Ah… yes, you’re right, Beatrice murmured, clearly caught off guard by Mabel’s sudden shift.
Rhea, ever the picture of modesty, pressed her advantage. Her voice trembled with well–practiced demureness. “You don’t have to go to such trouble for me. I’ll wear whatever’s on hand.
Mabel’s bright, syrupy cheer cut her off mid–sentence. “Don’t be silly, honey. You’re the apple of Mom and Dad’s eye. How could you possibly wear old clothes? Now hurry up and try on the red dress – I’ll help your Mabel punctuated the statement with a sweet smile, yet the smile never reached her eyes.
Before Rhea could protest, Mabel pressed the crimson fabric into her arms, her enthusiasm giving no room for refusal.
Rhea blinked, momentarily stunned. This wasn’t the reaction she’d expected. Her carefully crafted script of grievance Rhea blinked, momentarily stunned. Th unraveled as she clutched the dress, unsure how to respond. Mabel’s insistence left her no choice but to follow Beatrice out of the room, her mind swirling with confusion.
The moment the door closed behind them, Mabel’s faked grin vanished, replaced by an icy, calculating smirk. Her eyes glinted with the sharp edge of a predator sizing up its prey.
It didn’t matter whether Rhea got her new wardrobe or not – Mabel remembered all too well that Beatrice would inevitably spoil her daughter with a shopping spree. So why fight it? Instead, she’d turned it into an opportunity.
Now, she could tag along and enjoy the spectacle. She pictured clearly: Rhea, parading around the mall, drowning in an ill–fitting dress, her delicate facade cracking under the pressure of public scrutiny. It wasn’t the endgame. But as far as revenge went, it was a deliciously petty start.
SEND GIFT
