The day my birth parents found me, my best friend adopted a stray dog—then stole my life. After joining my wealthy family, Jessica—who was deathly allergic to dogs—bought the mutt king crab, permed its fur to match my hairstyle, and called it by my nickname, "Star." "I just can’t lose you," she’d say, face swollen with hives. Moved, I paid for everything. I was a fool. Eighty-one days later, I woke up as the dog. Jessica, now in my body, screamed as my parents’ guards beat me bloody. She dumped me at a kill shelter while my family feasted, oblivious. As my soul faded, I heard her tell my fiancé: "Matthew, that soul-swap ritual worked. Now Laura’s life is mine." I opened my eyes—back to the day she first asked me to feed the dog. … "Hey, sweetie," her voice, a syrupy confection, dripped through the phone. "I'm out of town for a few days, could you do me a huge favor and feed my dog?" When I didn’t answer immediately, Jessica pressed on, her tone turning pleading. "You wouldn't just let an innocent little creature starve to death, would you?" A cold sweat drenched my back, my hand shaking so badly I almost dropped the phone. In my last life, I became that dog. I remember the agony of the club striking my bones, the reek of the kill shelter she sent me to. The cold, dull blade slicing through my flesh. No one knows the taste of death better than I do. I forced my voice to remain steady as I agreed. A bottomless hatred bloomed in my chest. Reborn, I had one chance to escape the fate of having my soul stolen. The dog. The problem had to be the dog. The stench of ammonia and filth hit me the moment I opened Jessica’s door. A matted, trembling ball of fur was crammed into a tiny cage, forced to live in its own waste. Its fur was a tangled mess, its eyes red and swollen, crusted with a foul-smelling discharge. It was just like last time. Jessica never cared for it like a pet. Back then, I couldn't stand to see it suffer. I’d taken it to a premium pet spa, to the vet, and bought it the best food. My compassion had been my death sentence. This time, I pulled out the folding knife I’d brought with me. My plan was simple: kill the dog while Jessica was gone and eliminate the threat. But as it whimpered and cowered in the corner, a pitiful, broken thing, I couldn't bring myself to do it. The dog was innocent. The real monsters were Jessica and Matthew. After a moment’s thought, I called the local animal rescue league. They would find the dog a proper home, a safe place where it could live out its life in peace. I took a step closer and offered it a piece of jerky. As it looked up at me with wide, teary eyes, I felt a sense of relief. No one would interfere with its fate this time. But in the next second, my world tilted on its axis. Behind the dog’s right ear, a faint black spot was beginning to form. At the exact same moment, the jerky fell from my numb fingers. The spot was in the precise location of my own birthmark. It hadn't been there a second ago. My heart hammered against my ribs. Had I been reborn only to fall into their trap all over again? I backed away toward the door, forcing myself to think. In my previous life, Jessica was so allergic she practically lived on antihistamines, her face constantly puffy. Yet she insisted on holding that dog every day when she visited me. The conditions for the soul-swap had to be more complex than just the dog’s existence. Watching the rescue workers take the dog away, a fragile sense of calm settled over me. As long as the dog was gone, I had time to find a way to break the curse. I was wrong. The next day, a furious pounding rattled my front door. It was Jessica, holding the very same dog, her voice sharp with accusation. "Laura! I asked you to feed him, not get rid of him! How could you be so cruel?" She shoved the dog into my arms and breezed past me, flopping onto my bed as if she owned the place. I froze, my skin crawling where it made contact with the dog’s fur. I practically threw it to the floor, struggling to keep my expression neutral. "…Aren't you allergic? I sent him away for your own good." She ran her hand over my silk sheets, her voice turning sinister. "Who gave you the right to decide for me? I only got a pet so I could always have a piece of you with me!" I had no energy to argue. I simply called for the butler to take the dog outside. Jessica shot up, blocking the doorway. "Are you kicking out the dog, or are you kicking me out? Laura, now that you’re rich, have you forgotten all our years of friendship?" Just as the standoff reached its peak, a call came from Matthew, who was supposedly overseas. He didn't even say hello. "Don't you know those so-called 'rescue leagues' are just glorified kill shelters?" he demanded. "Laura, you apologize to Jessica right now!" I had been so focused on the dog, I’d forgotten about the other snake in the grass. Ever since I’d returned to my family, Jessica had been a constant presence, and everyone thought we were the picture of perfect friendship. Last time, I was so blind I didn't realize she and Matthew were having an affair until it was too late. With a sudden burst of strength, I shoved Jessica out of my room and slammed the door in her face. "I'm your fiancée," I spat into the phone, "and you're telling me to apologize to her?" I hung up and blocked his number. It took a long moment for the reality to sink in. Jessica had the dog back, and I was still completely in the dark. I wracked my brain, trying to recall every detail from my past life, but my head throbbed with a blinding pain. The next morning, the text messages from Jessica began, a relentless bombardment. 【Laura, can we please meet? I really miss you.】 【Are you mad at me? I was just so worried the other day. I'm sorry.】 【Please don't ignore me. You're the only friend I have.】 I could almost see the smug, fake expression on her face as she typed those words. A wave of nausea rolled through me. I gripped my phone, my knuckles white. 【Busy lately. Maybe some other time.】 I breathed a sigh of relief when she didn't reply immediately. But then I saw she’d posted on social media. 【Friends are the family you choose.】 The post had two pictures. One was of us at the orphanage, two small girls with hopeful smiles. The other was a drawing we’d made together, two stick figures holding hands, the paper yellowed with age. It was a gift I’d given her when we were children. In the comments, all our mutual friends and old teachers were gushing about our decade-long friendship. But I couldn't smile. Because in the reflection of an inconspicuous nightstand in the photo, I could see the bare arm of a man wearing a Patek Philippe watch. The watch I had given Matthew. A moment later, Jessica commented on her own post, tagging me: We should go back and visit the orphanage soon! She was using our past to guilt-trip me, to trap me in a web of public expectation. Ten minutes later, the orphanage director called. "Laura, dear, Jessica told me you've been avoiding her because you think she's poor now. Is that true?" I bit down on my lip so hard I tasted the metallic tang of blood. I was trapped, unable to explain the horrific truth to anyone. I heard my own voice, cold and distant, reply, "Of course not. We're actually going shopping together tomorrow afternoon." The mall lights were blinding. Jessica held the dog, sticking to me like a shadow. "Laura, look at that bag!" she exclaimed, pulling me toward a window display featuring a classic Louis Vuitton monogram—identical to the one I was carrying. "And look! They have a matching accessory for a dog! It's so cute!" I watched her feigned excitement with cold eyes. Last time, at this exact moment, I had pulled out my black card without a second thought. This time, I just laughed softly. "It's alright, I guess." Jessica’s expression froze. She bit her lip, her voice suddenly soft and vulnerable. "I want to buy it for Star, but… I don't have enough money." She looked up at me, and even the sales associate’s gaze turned expectant. The air grew thick with unspoken pressure. "If you don't have enough," I said, slowly stroking the strap of my own bag, "then you should save up." "Or maybe find a cheaper one at a discount store? It's just a dog. It won't know the difference." Jessica's face twisted into a mask of fury. "If you look down on me, Laura, just say it. Do you really think I only deserve cheap trash?" She was about to continue her tirade when she caught sight of something over my shoulder. Her eyes instantly filled with tears. "Laura, you're still mad at me for losing my temper that day, aren't you?" She reached for my hand, her voice choked with sobs. "I was just so scared for Star, I wasn't thinking…" A sharp voice cut through her performance from behind me. "I'll pay for it." Matthew. He strode over, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, but his eyes were glued to Jessica's face. Jessica’s eyes immediately reddened as she ducked behind him like a startled deer. As Matthew gave his membership code to the associate, I heard Jessica whisper to the dog, a triumphant little caress in her voice. "Good boy, Star. You're getting a new bag." My nickname, rolling off her tongue, was like a piece of candy coated in blood. While the associate was wrapping the purchase, Matthew turned to me, his voice dripping with scorn. "Really, Laura? You won't even buy your best friend a handbag? You can take the girl out of the gutter, but…" I stared at the faint red mark on his collar, the exact shade of Jessica’s lipstick today. "You're quite the generous one, Matthew," I said coolly. "You know, you two are quite alike," he continued, a cruel smirk on his face. "Both of you were strays, lost and alone until someone took you in." His words hit me like a physical blow, throwing me back to the horror of my last life. A ringing filled my ears as his lips kept moving. "I suggest you start treating your friend—and her dog—with a little more respect. The Thorne family has no place for someone as cold and heartless as you." His smug, self-righteous act made me want to vomit. Last time, he'd always used the threat of calling off our engagement to control me. And every time, I had folded, because I truly, desperately wanted to spend my life with him. If only I had seen their treachery sooner. Suddenly, the dog in Jessica's arms started barking wildly. It had been forced into the new accessory, a tiny replica of my own, and was struggling uncomfortably. And the black spot behind its ear was now dark and impossible to miss. I don't remember much of what happened after that. I stumbled home in a daze. A short while later, my mother called me down for dinner. At the table, my parents watched me with loving eyes, constantly putting food on my plate. "Darling, you suffered so much out there," my father said gently. "But now your mother and I are here, and we'll take care of you." "We never gave up looking for you," my mother added. "We were so lucky Master Silas was able to pinpoint your location. It was truly a miracle!" I felt a pang of emotion. Since I'd come home, they had wanted to give me the world. But soon, Jessica would take my place. The food in my mouth turned to ash. I couldn't swallow. "It's a shame Master Silas refused our donation," my father continued. "A man of his talent is truly rare." Talent? An idea sparked in my mind, a desperate lifeline. This Master Silas… he might be the one person who could save me. "Mom! Dad! I want to go thank him in person." On Saturday, I set out at dawn. It was two in the afternoon by the time I finally reached the remote sanctuary perched on the mountaintop. When I stepped inside and saw "Master Silas," I froze. I had pictured an old, wizened man, not a handsome young man with a serene, otherworldly air. He was dressed in simple, elegant robes, his eyes as deep and dark as a forest pool. He nodded at me in greeting. "Hello, Miss Laura." I snapped out of my daze and quickly bowed. "Please, no need for formality. Call me Silas." I told him everything, omitting the part about being reborn and framing it as a vivid, recurring nightmare. As he listened, his calm expression hardened. "A soul-swap," he murmured, his face grim. "I never thought someone would actually dare to use such a dark and forbidden art." "I will need to research a counter-ritual. In the meantime," he said, his eyes meeting mine, "avoid all contact with that dog. Wait for my return." I thanked him, my eyes welling with tears of relief. Before I left, he handed me a small, ornate box. Inside was a protective talisman. "Keep this with you. Place it under your pillow. It will temporarily shield your soul from any external influence." After returning from the mountain, I immediately feigned illness and confined myself to my room. Jessica, of course, messaged me daily. One moment she was asking what I ate, the next what clothes I was wearing. If I didn't reply, she’d video call me. "Star misses you so much, Laura! When can we come visit?" I didn't dare show my true revulsion, so I gave her vague, noncommittal answers. Matthew started visiting frequently, too. He claimed he was checking on me, but I knew he was there to monitor the situation. To my horror, my parents welcomed him with open arms, believing our relationship was as strong as ever. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. I pulled him into a private sitting room.
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