After the filming for the “Family Swap” reality show ended, I died in the third month of living with my biological parents again. In the final moments, as my consciousness faded, I didn't hear the heart-wrenching sobs I’d imagined, nor did I see my family wracked with guilt. Instead, I watched my mother pull the person who killed me into her arms, whispering words of comfort. I watched my father’s brow furrow in disgust as he cursed me under his breath. Only my sister, Ella, knelt by my body and let out a soft sigh. “It’s better that you’re dead. Now, Mom and Dad won’t have to be in such a difficult position anymore.” So, this was it. No one would grieve for me. A bitter laugh escaped my lips as my last attachments dissolved with my shattered soul. A blinding white light flashed, and when I opened my eyes again, I was back on the first day my parents came to take me home. 1 Almost instinctively, I took a step back, avoiding my mother’s embrace. Her hands froze awkwardly in mid-air, her face falling. “Rina, you…” I knew what she wanted to ask. Did you miss me this past year? Are you okay? But my mind was still reeling from the shock of being reborn, my body reacting purely on the conditioned fear from my past life. Once the reality of it all settled in, I took several more deliberate steps back, putting a clear distance between us. My parents stood there, stunned. Seeing my desperate avoidance, their expressions soured. “Rina, you’ve only been gone a year. How can you be such a stranger to your own parents?” “Is it because we want to adopt Ciara? Are you unhappy about that?” I shook my head, my voice flat. “No.” In my last life, I had thrown myself into their arms, overwhelmed with longing. When I heard they wanted to adopt Ciara, I threw a jealous tantrum. Ciara saw it all and, in a fit of manufactured despair, threatened to run away into a blizzard. My parents, hearts aching for her, spent the entire day consoling her, leaving me, their newly returned daughter, completely alone. To appease her further, they threw a lavish adoption ceremony the very next day, officially announcing to the media that Ciara was their new daughter. That was the day my suffering truly began. This life, I refused to make the same mistakes. I wanted nothing to do with a love built on lies and manipulation. Seeing that I wasn't upset, my parents visibly relaxed. They were afraid—afraid I’d compete with Ciara for their affection, and even more afraid that Ciara would be hurt. I let out a silent, self-mocking laugh and walked towards the guest room. As I turned, I came face-to-face with Ciara. She looked at me with wide, pleading eyes, tears already welling up. “Rina, I’m only staying because I can’t bear to leave Mom, Dad, and Ella. Please don’t be angry with them. If you’re unhappy, I can leave right now.” Ciara was a year younger than me. The first time I met her, in my past life, my first instinct was that I, as the older sister, should be generous. When we swapped places for the show, I had thoughtfully left her all my favorite toys and clothes and even told my parents to take good care of her. When the year-long show ended, we were supposed to return to our own lives, our own homes. I could never understand it. I was back, so why were they so reluctant to let Ciara leave? This time, faced with her performance, I just smiled faintly. “I’m not angry. Whether Mom and Dad adopt you or ask you to leave, I don’t have an opinion. As long as they’re happy.” My words were so mature, so flawless, that even my parents were taken aback. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught the flicker of surprise in Ciara’s. My reaction clearly wasn’t what she’d hoped for. Last time, my hysterics had successfully turned my parents and sister against me, making them pity her even more. Step by step, I had walked right into the traps she set, deeper and deeper into the abyss. Ciara bit her lip, about to say something else, but the sound of the front door opening cut her off. “You don’t have the right to be angry anyway.” My own sister, Ella, was home. She wrapped an arm around a "distraught" Ciara, her gaze landing on me with open contempt. “Ciara took your place this past year, caring for Mom and Dad, being a daughter to them. She’s already part of this family. You’d better not start trouble the second you walk in the door.” Ella had never liked me much. When other little sisters were happily holding their big sister’s hand, I could only watch mine from the crack in her bedroom door. That’s why I had volunteered for her first big project—the reality show she created. I had hoped it would finally win me a little of her affection. And it had. Ella was thrilled—because she seemed to adore the new “sister” she got in the exchange. … That first night back, I slept alone in the cold, cluttered guest room. The only difference was that this time, I had chosen it myself. My parents didn't object. They exchanged a look and then eagerly helped me with my luggage, carefully avoiding any mention of me moving back into my old room, as if terrified I might ask. “Ciara’s gotten used to that room,” my mother explained with a strained smile, not a hint of guilt in her voice. “It wouldn’t be right to ask her to move out now. You’ll just have to make do with the guest room for a while.” As if it were perfectly normal for the adopted daughter of one year to have the master bedroom, while the biological daughter was relegated to storage. Last time, when I demanded my room back, Ella had slapped me across the face. “You just got here and you’re already trying to take things from Ciara! Her life has been so hard. Can’t you show her a little kindness?” “As long as I’m here,” she’d snarled, “you will not bully Ciara.” The slap had filled my mouth with the taste of blood, shattering the last of my fragile hope. Even in this new life, the memory made my chest ache. That night, I huddled in the cramped guest room, clutching my luggage, and shivered through the long, cold night. My room, which had become Ciara’s a year ago, was no longer mine. This time, I knew my place. I didn’t fight. I didn’t ask for anything. Just as they wanted. … Just like last time, three days after I came home, the guaranteed admission slot my parents had pulled strings to get became available. There was only one spot. It became their biggest dilemma: give it to me, or to Ciara? Last time, they came to me and said that Ciara had suffered so much in her life and her health was too fragile to handle the stress of the final exams. They wanted to give the spot to her. I cried and refused. They pretended to agree, but then secretly filled out the paperwork with Ciara’s name on it anyway. I didn’t understand then that some things, whether I was willing to give them up or not, were no longer mine to begin with. This time, when they came in, I was sitting at the desk, reading. They exchanged an awkward glance, neither wanting to be the first to speak. I knew why they were here. I saved them the trouble. “Is something wrong?” “Rina,” my mother began, hesitating, a flicker of guilt in her eyes. “We managed to get a guaranteed admission slot to a top university. It was supposed to be for you.” She paused, nudging my father with her elbow. He cleared his throat and picked up where she left off. “But, as you know, Ciara’s health isn’t the best, and the pressure of the exams is immense. So… we were hoping you would let Ciara have it. Would that be okay?” It was phrased as a question, but the decision had already been made. I played my part. I looked my mother in the eye and nodded. “Okay. Give it to her.” They were both stunned. The long speeches they had prepared died on their lips. They never expected me to agree so easily. My mother let out a long, relieved sigh. “That’s my girl. So understanding.” … At dinner that night, there were extra dishes on the table, a clear sign of their good mood. But not a single one was a dish I liked. My mother smiled, piling food onto Ciara’s plate. “Ciara, your sister Rina is giving you the admission slot. Now you can just relax and wait for university to start.” Ella looked up, a flash of disbelief in her eyes. She, too, seemed shocked by my compliance. “Oh, no, I couldn’t!” Ciara said, shaking her head as tears immediately welled in her eyes. “It’s an honor enough that Rina let me stay. How could I take her spot?” It was her favorite trick. I was used to it. I just kept my head down and ate. Across the table, Ella snorted. “Mom and Dad got this opportunity. It doesn’t have Rina’s name on it. They can give it to whoever they want. She doesn’t have a say in it anyway.” Her tone was as cold and dismissive as ever. My mother shot Ella a warning look, then gave me an awkward smile. “Rina, your sister is just joking. Don’t take it to heart.” I shook my head. “I know.” Perhaps finally feeling a pang of guilt, my father put down his chopsticks. “This was unfair to you,” he said, his voice tentative. “If there’s anything you want, just ask. We’ll do our best to make it up to you.” I thought for a moment, then pointed a finger towards the corner guest room. “That room’s window is too small. It’s too dark for studying…” Before I could finish, a pair of chopsticks came flying at my face, followed by Ella’s furious roar. “Rina, I knew you were up to no good! That room is Ciara’s now! You think you can push your luck and steal it from her? Not a chance!” She slammed her hands on the table and stood up, glaring as if she wanted to tear me apart. My parents, after a brief moment of shock, frowned, their minds already made up. I calmly pulled a piece of paper from my pocket. A dormitory application form. “You misunderstood.” “I just want to move into the school dorms. I need a parent’s signature.” Silence. The rest of the dinner was tense. My parents were shocked by my request, but neither of them said a word against it. Forcing Ciara out of my old room was unthinkable; me moving out was the perfect solution. In my last life, I would have been screaming, crying, demanding to know why they were so biased. But this time, I was quiet. I didn't even make them feel awkward. I was the one offering the solution. They were happy. And so was I. My mother sighed, making a half-hearted attempt to persuade me. “Rina, it’s tough for a girl to live in a dorm. It’s not like we don’t have other rooms…” “If you don’t like your current room, I can redecorate another one for you, make it bright and spacious.” I knew better. Last time, the fight over a bedroom had been a long, ugly war that I lost spectacularly. She had our parents and our sister. I had no one. This life, I had no desire to compete with Ciara for scraps of affection. My only goal was to build myself up, love myself, and escape this so-called "home" as soon as possible. “No, thank you. I want to live at school. Please let me.” Seeing my resolve, my mother tried again, but my father cut her off. “Let her be. If Rina wants to live in the dorm, let her. She’s grown up now. She can take care of herself. She doesn't need us hovering over her.” A bitter laugh almost escaped me. I was barely seventeen, and he had already decided I didn't need much care. Yet, in my last life, he drove Ciara to and from school every single day, doting on her without fail. How did they know I didn’t need to be taken care of? They just didn’t want to. My heart was already scarred and numb, but in that moment, a familiar ache returned.
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