My daughter was basically born bad. A real bad seed. Skipping school, fighting, bullying classmates – she did it all. She even started sexting with a guy ten years older than her and planned to run off with him. I rushed to the train station, got into an argument with the guy, and fell onto the tracks. I died instantly. But my daughter told everyone I jumped on purpose. Then I opened my eyes. I was back six months earlier. My daughter was standing there, eyes red, accusing me of being too strict. I looked at her coldly. "Fine. From now on, I'm done managing you." 1 Senior year, first major exams, and my daughter, Ashley, skipped them again. Her homeroom teacher called just as I was leaving work. "Sarah, if Ashley keeps this up, she's likely going to be expelled before graduation." I gave a calm, small laugh. After a moment's thought, I said, "It's okay, Mrs. Davison. If she gets expelled, she gets expelled. As long as it doesn't cause problems for you or the school." In my previous life, I got this same call. Back then, I immediately rushed to the school, begging and pleading with everyone to give her another chance. Then I caught her skipping school, playing online games with friends. In front of everyone, I swore up and down she'd never skip again, that she'd make it to graduation. But the truth was, her life was ruined before the second semester even started. Smoking, drinking, dating… that was nothing. The day I received the wedding invitation from my husband, explicit videos and photos of her were already going viral online. When I found out and confronted her, she just shrugged it off. "Mom, what do you know? What's the point of having a good body if you don't show it off?" "Besides," she added, "bad press is still press. Maybe I'll become an influencer or something." Thinking back on that, I repeated firmly to the teacher, "From now on, please don't call me about Ashley's issues. I can't control her anymore. I'm done trying." With that, I hung up and walked away. 2 That evening, I was lounging on the sofa watching TV when the front door flew open and slammed shut. Ashley stood before me, face like thunder. She was wearing a skimpy black outfit, way too mature for her age, complete with fishnets. A cigarette dangled from her left hand, a bottle of liquor in her right. She glared at me, furious. "Old woman, did you cancel my credit card? You trying to force me home with cheap tricks like that? Are you asking for it?" "Go reactivate the card right now, or I'm running away from home, and you'll never find me." "No need," I said calmly. "Go wherever you want. I won't try to manage you anymore." "Are you kidding me?" Seeing her just standing there, I kindly opened the front door for her, practically gesturing for her to leave. My change in attitude clearly stunned her. Her eyes darted around, then she awkwardly tried to save face. "Whatever. I know you can't bear to let me go. Dad already ditched you. So you won't end up a lonely old woman, I guess I can consider staying. But..." She plopped down on the sofa, grabbing an apple and taking a bite. "First, reactivate the credit card. Then, transfer the house and car titles to my name. And up my allowance to five thousand dollars a month." ... I shook my head wearily. "I'm serious, Ashley. Didn't you say I was too controlling? That I made you anxious and depressed?" "From now on, skipping school, dating, whatever – those are your choices." I sighed. "You're almost eighteen. I can't control you anymore." I wasn't saying this out of spite or trying to be tough. From the moment she became my daughter, I gave her everything, catered to her every whim. Bought her the prettiest dresses, the best Barbie dolls. Because my own childhood was poor, I was terrified of her suffering, so I planned out her entire future. Top schools, study abroad programs, even lining up a respectable job for after graduation. But all my careful planning, in her eyes, was just my manipulative tactics to trap and control her. And in the end? I met a violent end, and she actually lied for the real culprit, letting him escape justice. If that's how it is, then I don't need to knock myself out planning for her anymore. "You're wrong." I shook my head again, feeling exhausted. "Mom is just really tired. I can't manage you anymore." "Bullshit! You're plotting something. I'm warning you, don't try anything funny, or I'll make your life hell!" Furious, Ashley swept everything off the coffee table, sending mugs and clutter crashing to the floor, then slammed the door and stormed out. She still thought I was just bluffing. 3 Not long after Ashley left, my husband, Mark, showed up. Well, "husband" – we'd been separated for six months, just needing the final divorce papers. In my past life, I endured everything for Ashley's sake, even turning a blind eye to Mark's cheating. But this time around, I just wanted this scumbag as far away from me as possible. "Ashley called me. What kind of mother are you?" He started right in with the accusations, perfectly fitting his "doting father" persona he'd maintained for years. "It's normal for teenagers to be rebellious. Yelling at her is one thing, but kicking her out? Poor Ashley, having a mother like you." I let out a cold laugh, resisting the urge to applaud him sarcastically. "Don't worry, it's not too late. Haven't you already found her a new mom?" A flicker of embarrassment crossed Mark's face. Before he could counter, I pulled out the divorce agreement I'd already prepared. "Let's cut the crap. Sign this." Mark's eyes widened in surprise, then a flash of delight. "You've finally come to your senses?" "What's there to 'come to senses' about? The deal is, you get the kid, I get the house and car." His joyful expression lasted about two seconds before his face fell. "What? Sarah, don't push it." "Me, push it?" This house was bought with my family's money, and the car payments always came out of my account. Mark contributed less to this household than the cleaning lady I hired. "You don't contribute a dime, you run around with other women, you're the party at fault. I should be suing you. And you dare argue about assets? Fine. You want to make this ugly? Bring it on." Mark clearly didn't expect such firmness from me. His mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. Then, he pulled out his phone. "Ashley, honey, Dad tried his best. Your mom's gone completely crazy, there's nothing I can do. You need to come home right away." Ashley's hysterical yelling came through the phone. "What? That bitch won't give us money? Dad, don't worry. Just watch how I handle her." 4 Ashley rushed home and, ignoring her father's half-hearted attempts to "stop" her, proceeded to smash everything she could get her hands on. I watched it all happen. Initial anger faded into a strange calm. It didn't hurt nearly as much as I thought it would. Compared to the last life, when she pushed me out of the car and fractured my spine, this was nothing. "Done smashing things? If not, feel free. Your computer and tablet in your room are still intact. Why not destroy them all at once?" Ashley spun around, glaring at me, the hatred in her eyes practically lethal. "You bitch. Say that again, I dare you." Mark knew his daughter's temper. He made a show of trying to calm her down but conveniently stepped aside. "I won't repeat myself. Go ahead, smash everything you want. Just don't disturb my rest." I yawned and, under the stunned gazes of the father and daughter, calmly walked back to my bedroom and locked the door. Just as I expected... without me as an audience, the commotion in the living room quickly died down. A moment later, I heard the front door slam shut hard. I couldn't help but smirk. I lay back on the bed and drifted off to sleep. The next morning, just after I woke up, I got a frantic phone call from a coworker. "Sarah, you need to get down to the office, quick!" 5 Downstairs from the Apex Corp office building, Ashley stood at the main entrance in some outlandish outfit, handing out flyers to the arriving office workers. Even from a distance, I could vaguely hear what she was saying. "Yeah, she's an executive upstairs at Apex Corp! Not just cheating, she's fooling around with multiple clients – men and women!" "What? Seriously?" It wasn't quite time for work yet, so a small crowd had gathered, munching on bagels and listening to her performance while looking at the flyer featuring a blown-up photo of me. "Of course, it's true! Look at these bruises!" she cried, showing imaginary marks. "She comes home after hooking up and takes it out on me! Shoved my head in the toilet, drugged my dad with sleeping pills, almost killed him!" She told her story vividly, and some onlookers grew outraged, looking like they wanted to drag me out for public shaming. "What kind of mother is that? So vicious!" "Seriously, if you can't raise them right, don't have them. She's just hurting everyone." "Glad she's not my boss. Who knows what you'd have to do working under someone like that." I stood there, unmoving, calmly listening to all her slander. Ashley saw me, but there wasn't a hint of guilt in her eyes. "There she is! That's my mom!" All eyes snapped towards me. I spoke immediately, my voice carrying. "Don't you all have work to do? It's almost nine o'clock!" No office worker truly has time for someone else's family drama. The crowd quickly dispersed, leaving just Ashley and me. Looking at this young, defiant girl before me, I sighed. "Ashley, this is my final warning, and my advice: stop digging your own grave. Go back to school. It's not too late to turn things around. I can give you one more chance." But Ashley just sneered, completely missing the warning in my tone. She practically spat at my feet. "Tsk! I don't need chances from you. I'm your only daughter, you really gonna abandon me? I'll give you one last chance. Give me money, and sign over a house to me. I promised Rick we'd get married after graduation." Any last shred of affection I had for her died with those words. She acts this way because she thinks she can get away with anything, being my only flesh and blood, right? What would happen if she found out she wasn't actually my biological daughter? The thought was… quite intriguing. 6 Back in the office, curious glances darted away the moment they saw me. Throughout the morning, I remained calm and composed, handling my work and meeting with clients as if nothing had happened. It wasn't until the lunch break that I finally got a moment to breathe. "So, do you think Sarah's really like that?" "Hard to say. Seems pretty straight-laced, but maybe she's wild behind closed doors." "Yeah, well, how else does a woman get to be a general manager? Probably slept her way up." I stood outside the break room door, my hand tightening on the handle, my blood running cold for a second. Not because of those few whispered words. But because it hit me again how, even now, sexism is so deeply ingrained in the workplace. Any woman who achieves even moderate success is suspected of sleeping her way there. No one considers her actual abilities, and no one knows she likely had to work ten times harder than a man to get there. And the root of all this suspicion is simply her gender. It's ridiculous. Just as I was about to push the door open, a clear female voice spoke up. "You shouldn't talk like that. I know Sarah isn't that kind of person." I recognized the voice. It was Maria, who'd started working here a few months ago. "Mind your own business, cleaner. Who do you think you are, butting in?" a male voice grumbled. "I just know! Sarah works incredibly hard. I've seen her working late lots of times when everyone else has gone home. Stop spreading rumors. It's disgusting to slander women like that." "What did you say? You wanna say that again..." Before the man could retort, I pushed the door open, a polite smile fixed on my face. "Quite lively in here. Not resting during your break? Guess the morning wasn't busy enough."
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "392394", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel