In my last life, my parents divorced. My sister went with my wealthy mother; I was left with my bankrupt father. Who could have guessed that Mom’s remarriage would land her with an abusive monster, her life spiraling from bad to worse? Meanwhile, my father, having hit rock bottom, clawed his way back and built a new empire. My sister, eaten alive by jealousy, plunged a knife into my stomach. When I opened my eyes again, we were back on the day our parents walked out of the courthouse, divorce papers in hand. This time, my sister didn't miss a beat. “I love Daddy,” she declared. “I want to stay with Daddy.” A giddy relief washed over me. I had no desire to relive a life on the run. 1 My sister, Sophie, wrapped her arms around Dad’s arm, her voice a saccharine sweet coo. “Daddy, please let me stay with you! I love you the most, and I don’t mind being poor, I swear!” To see Sophie, who’d been selfish and demanding her entire life, say something so selfless was enough to make our father’s heart melt. He was so moved, he completely missed the thundercloud forming on our mother’s face. “Absolutely not,” Mom snapped, stepping forward. “Sophie will have a hard life with you. I have to take her.” So, Sophie going with Dad meant a life of hardship, but me? I was apparently disposable. My parents fought over Sophie’s custody like two dogs over a bone. It was as if I were invisible, a ghost in the room. In the end, they couldn’t argue with Sophie’s own iron-willed decision to go with Dad. Only then did Mom turn to me, her choice made by default. I followed her into the gleaming black Mercedes that belonged to my future stepfather. Sophie, clutching Dad’s hand, practically skipped away. Just before she left, she shot a triumphant, challenging look over her shoulder at me. I didn’t care. After all, at this moment, Mom had all the money, and Dad’s life was a complete disaster. 2 In my last life, Dad dragged me from one dingy apartment to another, always trying to outrun his creditors. There was no way for me to focus on school. The collapse of his business and Mom’s departure had shattered him. He surrendered completely, hiding out in cheap rentals, drowning himself in bourbon, and letting the world fall apart around him. I was at the top of my class, but I couldn’t afford tuition. I had to take care of him, which meant dropping out to find work. We came from the same womb, but Sophie had always been the lucky one. She was beautiful and knew exactly how to charm our parents. They both adored her. Plus, she was younger. You’re the older sister, Tessa, they’d always say. You should be mature. Let your sister have her way. Even in divorce, she was the only one they wanted. But in this life, her choice to stay with Dad gave him a rare moment of victory in front of Mom. The second the car door closed, Mom started in on me. “You were never the pretty one, Tessa, and you have a difficult personality. We’re going to live with Arthur now. For God’s sake, don’t embarrass me.” It was almost funny. What kind of mother says that to her own daughter? But it didn’t matter. The car glided through a set of ornate iron gates and into The Ridges, a neighborhood of sprawling mansions. I knew my stepfather from the previous life was rich, but I hadn’t realized he was this rich. Arthur enrolled me in Northwood Prep, the best private academy in the city. A driver took me to and from school every day. To make up for the education I’d lost in my past life, I poured everything I had into my studies. I was driven, and it paid off. Every year, I was in the top three of my class. My mother, who had previously ignored me, was suddenly eager to attend parent-teacher conferences. For her, it was a chance to be envied by the other parents and praised by the teachers for having such a brilliant daughter. Since Arthur didn’t have any children of his own, my life in this house was, for the most part, peaceful and comfortable. “Arthur,” I said one evening, “I’d like to study abroad.” “Study abroad? Don’t be ridiculous,” my mother scoffed before Arthur could even respond. “Just because you get good grades doesn’t mean you can just do whatever you want.” It was then I realized that sometimes, a person’s hatred for you doesn’t need a reason. Even if that person is your own mother. 3 Arthur wasn’t the monster my mother and Sophie had described in my past life—volatile, tyrannical, violent. On the contrary, I found him to be incredibly intelligent, though proud and guarded. The cracks in his marriage to my mother began to show not long after we arrived. My mother was a classic trophy wife—all beauty, no substance. In a way, she and my father were a perfect match. Dad was a textbook case of new money, a trust-fund kid who was all muscle and no brains. He’d used a combination of brute force and cash to win her over. While my grandparents were alive, they kept the family business afloat. After they passed, Dad let his pack of sycophantic “friends” talk him into one bad investment after another, losing everything his parents had left him. My mother immediately found his replacement and filed for divorce. My plans to study abroad were stalled by my mother’s objections. But with my grades, I knew I could easily get into a top university here in the States. “Sophie’s here!” “Maria, is my mother home?” I heard her ask our housekeeper. “Your mother is out shopping, dear. But your sister is upstairs reading.” I heard Sophie’s footsteps coming down the hall. Without knocking, she pushed my door open. “Honestly, Tessa, who are you trying to impress? There’s no one home. Put the book down.” With a flick of her wrist, she snatched the novel out of my hands. Sophie was officially in Dad’s custody, but she came to this house nearly every month to get money from Mom, along with new clothes and jewelry. She always left with her car stuffed to the brim. By the next month, however, she’d be back in ragged clothes. Our father, who had added gambling to his list of vices in this life, took everything of value and sold it for cash. My mother couldn’t bear to see Sophie living in poverty. She’d even tried to convince Arthur to let Sophie move in with us. Arthur had agreed, but surprisingly, our father refused to let her go. Sophie had become his lifeline, his tool for prying money and goods from our mother. “You’re going to read your brain into mush,” Sophie sneered, rummaging through my things. “What’s the point? You’re not as pretty as me, and Mom and Dad don’t even like you.” She paused, a cruel smile playing on her lips. “This life you have? This was supposed to be mine. I’m letting you have it. You just enjoy it while you can. It won’t last long.” She was right. In our previous life, this had been her princess bedroom. She surveyed the room with disgust. “Tsk, tsk. You don’t even know how to enjoy the good life. Look at all this junk you buy.” She gestured at my bookshelf. “All you do is stare at these stupid, smelly books.” I ignored her, letting her have her tantrum. “Sophie! Is that my darling girl I hear?” I watched, cold and detached, as they performed their little play of mother-daughter affection downstairs. When Mom came up and saw my room in disarray, she didn’t bat an eye. “What could you possibly find in her room? Come on, let’s go to mine. I just bought a ton of new clothes and jewelry. Take whatever you like.” She pulled Sophie out of the room, not once glancing my way, not a single word of concern for me. A few moments later, Maria, our housekeeper, came in with a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. She began tidying my room with practiced ease. “I have never seen a mother play favorites so openly,” she murmured. It doesn’t matter, I thought. Her good days are numbered. 4 A furious argument erupted downstairs. “You have no shame!” Arthur’s voice boomed through the house. “You live in my house, wear the clothes I buy you, and you’re cheating on me with some boy toy!” The sharp crack of a slap echoed, and I knew it had landed on my mother’s face. Sophie immediately rushed to intervene. Arthur, blind with rage, shoved her, and she stumbled to the floor. “And don’t even get me started on you,” he snarled at Sophie. “The agreement was one daughter each. Why are you always over here? Every time you show up, half the things in this house disappear!” “She takes my things, what’s it to you?” Mom retorted. “Your things? Look at yourself. Is there a single thing on your body that I didn’t pay for? And now you expect me to support your entire broke family?” “Don’t you dare, Arthur Quinn!” Mom screamed. “If you weren’t sterile, I wouldn’t have had to look elsewhere!” That was it. That was the line. My mother’s words had utterly destroyed him. He lost all control, grabbing her designer bags and clothes and hurling them toward the door. When she tried to stop him, he threw her to the ground. None of the staff dared to step in. Sophie cowered in a corner, motionless. Arthur had married my mother for two reasons: she was beautiful, and she came with two children. After the wedding, he had begun to mentor me, treating me almost like a successor. In the previous life, however, my mother had used this to her advantage, squandering Arthur’s fortune without a second thought. Sophie was beautiful but utterly vapid. That would have been tolerable, but the two of them were both greedy and foolish. Mom’s affairs were one thing, but Sophie had bragged all over town that everything Arthur owned would one day be hers. Word got back to Arthur, of course. No man wants to hear that his inheritance is already being claimed while he’s still alive. And in the end, they weren't his flesh and blood. There was a distance that could never be closed. In that life, he eventually brought his nephew to live with him, training him as his heir and throwing my mother and sister out. This time, my mother was still thrown out. But he didn’t kick me out. “Tessa,” he said to me later, “you’re better off with me than with that shortsighted woman.” All my efforts had paid off. Arthur knew I was smart, ambitious, and had a vision for the future. I had made a point of consulting him on every important decision, always showing him my respect. I had even privately told him I wanted to take his last name. My mother, obsessed with shopping and gossip, knew nothing of this, nor would she have cared. Mom refused to leave, screaming that she would die in this house. She underestimated Arthur. A self-made man who had built an empire from nothing was not the same as my weak, foolish father. He wouldn’t be manipulated by her theatrics. “Maria, pack a few of her things,” he said calmly, then called security. Just like that, my mother and Sophie were thrown out. As Arthur passed my room, he placed a hand on my shoulder. “You just focus on your studies, Tessa. This is grown-up business. It has nothing to do with you.” I nodded. A fool is a fool, no matter how many lives they live. 5 My life continued, undisturbed. My mother called me secretly, begging me to put in a good word for her with Arthur. Of course, I refused. So she began calling daily, hurling the most vile insults at me. Without Mom’s financial support, Sophie’s life became even harder. Her grades were terrible, and she hated school. Seeing this, our father pulled her out completely. He was already drowning in gambling debt. I focused all my energy on preparing for my college entrance exams. Arthur was incredibly busy and rarely home. Not long after, on my way to school, I was ambushed. The car was in for maintenance that day, so I was walking home. I had just left the school grounds when a man called my name. “You Tessa?” Before I could answer, he clamped a hand over my mouth and dragged me into a waiting van. They took me to an abandoned warehouse. Someone kicked me hard in the stomach, and I crumpled to the ground, the pain stealing my breath. They didn’t say a word. They just beat me. “Well, well, sister. Is the mansion comfortable?” Sophie stepped out of the shadows and looked down at me, her face a mask of contempt. “You little bitch,” she spat. “I really underestimated you. That old man treats you like a treasure. He kicked Mom out, but you’re still living the high life.” “I’m going to find out just what kind of cheap tricks you used on him. It certainly wasn’t with that plain, boring face of yours.”
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