When my dad walked in on my mom cheating, he beat her so badly she was barely recognizable. I had to pull him off her to save her from worse. Later, she and her lover, Mark Ellis, poisoned my dad. Fearing the truth would come out, she locked me up, broke my limbs, and stitched my mouth shut so I couldn’t make a sound. Right before I died, I learned my brother Travis had taken out a million-dollar loan using my social security number. My family thrived off my name and money. Then, I opened my eyes—I was back on the day my mom got caught. Seeing that familiar scene, I felt my lips curl up into a smile. Go on, Dad. Hit her harder. She deserves it. “Linda Grant, have you any idea how I’ve treated you all these years? Since Diana was born, I’ve wanted you to live comfortably, so I covered all our expenses myself.” “And when Travis was born, I treated you like a queen. But look at you—you went and cheated!” “How dare you?!” With that, my dad raised the baseball bat and swung it toward my mom. Right then, I instinctively raised my arm, moved my legs, realizing that my body was whole and unharmed. I touched my lips; no cracked wounds or rows of stitches… I had been reborn. Travis’s face turned ghostly white as he grabbed my hand, voice choked with tears. “Diana, go stop Dad. If he keeps going, Mom will die!” Hearing that, my mom shot me a pleading look. Her body was bruised and bloody, her eyes were red, and blood was trickling from the corner of her mouth. “Diana, your dad listens to you. I promise I’ll never do it again!” “It’s all that bastard Mark’s fault. He lured me in, and I just lost control for a minute!” Even though I’d already died once, their pleas felt like being stabbed, each word a knife twisting in my flesh. In my last life, this had happened, too. My mom kept begging for mercy, and I softened, asking my dad again and again to give her another chance. I had no idea that, while she pretended to be the devoted wife, she was plotting with Mark to poison my dad’s food. They had him cremated while I wasn’t home. Later, she even had the audacity to marry Mark, calling herself a “single mom with two kids” who “needed a man to help around the house.” One night, I overheard them talking and finally learned the truth. My dad hadn’t died of a heart attack; they’d killed him, slowly and deliberately. I tried to pretend I didn’t know and sought a way to get revenge, but I knocked over a decoration in the process, tipping her off. Afraid I’d go to the police, my mom and Mark tied me to my bed. They broke my arms and legs so I couldn’t escape and sewed my mouth shut so I couldn’t speak. In desperation, I pinned my hopes on my brother, Travis. But what I never dreamed was that he would mockingly hold up my ID and say, “Sis, you ever heard of debt mules?” “I checked. You have a clean record and can take out over a million. Consider it your contribution to the family.” Then he lifted my chin, his smile as cold as it was cruel. “Oh, and by the way, I’m not even John Grant’s son. You’ll be joining your dead father real soon.” Remembering that brought a bead of sweat to my forehead. My open hand clenched into a fist. Last time, they killed my father and me in cold blood. This time, I’m making them pay.
“Dad, if things have come this far, you two might as well get divorced. Travis and I are already grown.” They all stared, shocked. They didn’t believe those words had just come out of my mouth. My dad’s hand froze mid-air. He took a step back and sat down hard on the couch. My mom staggered to her feet, pointing at me and screaming, “Diana, are you even human? How can you say something like that?!” “Do you know how hard it is for kids from single-parent families? Travis is a senior in high school! He’s got a crucial year ahead, and you don’t care about his future!” I let out a sarcastic chuckle and looked at her with a newfound hatred. Ever since she got pregnant with me, she’d been a stay-at-home mom. My dad worked himself to the bone to provide a good life for Travis and me, carrying the burden of supporting our family all on his own. Growing up, I’d resented him countless times. On every holiday, it seemed it was always just the three of us at home. But as I got older, I realized my dad was the one sacrificing the most. He’d keep only a couple of dollars a week for himself, sending the rest to my mom. He wore old, faded jackets while buying us sneakers that cost hundreds. He’d eat plain bread and water, giving the best to us with a smile, insisting he was full. In the end, it was because of us that he endured so much. Seeing that I wasn’t giving in, Travis shot me an angry look. “Diana, what kind of daughter tells her parents to get divorced?” My mom pulled him close, crying even louder. “Exactly! I raised you all these years, and now you’re not even on my side. But at least I have my son.” “John, for the kids’ sake, forgive me just this once. After everything we’ve been through, could you really bear to let it end?” “No matter how devoted Diana is, she’s still just a girl. We’ll need Travis to take care of us when we’re old. If we really split up… what would it do to him?” My mom knew that family was everything to my dad, and she put on a pitiful act, hoping he’d soften. Even though he was tough, he’d never thought sons were more important than daughters. Late nights while I was studying, he’d send encouraging texts, urging me on. “Girls need to explore the world, not be stuck in some small town,” he’d say. “Having you was meant to bring joy into my life, not trap you under someone else’s shadow.” I walked slowly over to him, noticing his back was now bent and weak, no longer the proud, resilient man he once was. I sat next to him, leaning against his shoulder, my voice shaking. “Dad, you’ve worked so hard all these years…” “Your daughter’s all grown up now. You don’t have to take care of me anymore.” “Please, live the life you deserve.” He lifted his head slowly, meeting my gaze. Tears glistened in his eyes. My mom threw Travis a glance, and he got the hint. He dropped to his knees, clutching my dad’s pants. “Dad, Mom knows she made a mistake…” “Dad, I don’t want you to split up.” My mom stood nearby, her tears flowing in rivers. But I knew it wasn’t my dad she couldn’t bear to lose. It was her “money machine.”
Later, my dad moved his bedding to the living room, ignoring my mom. But she and Travis dragged me into a room and started tearing into me. “Diana, you really just let him hit me, didn’t you? Enjoyed it, didn’t you?” Then she reached to grab my arm, but I dodged. “You brat, how dare you fight back? Don’t think that if we get divorced, you’ll get the house. Dream on. It all goes to your brother.” In our last life, my mom was a master at double-dealing. To the rest of the family, she acted as though she treated me and Travis equally. But behind closed doors? From the day Travis was born, he became her whole world. I was tasked with watching over him, cleaning the house, doing the cooking. The best of everything went to him, and if I so much as snuck a taste, I’d be punished, made to kneel in the kitchen all night, not allowed to sleep. By my senior year, I looked so malnourished people thought I was still in middle school. Whenever my dad came home, she’d pretend to care for me and always threatened that if I told him, she’d beat me even harder once he left. Even after I started working, she kept controlling me. Knowing Travis struggled with school, she pushed for expensive tutors and then started eyeing my paycheck. Her plan was for me to go unpaid and tutor him myself so he’d get into a good college. Remembering this, I let out a smile. It’s time they woke up from their dream. This time, Travis sneered with a twisted smile, taunting, “That’s right. Girls are money sinks, born to serve us.” “First you hand over your paychecks, then your dowry. And you’ll squeeze every penny from your in-laws to support me—that’s your destiny!” My mom, sensing I was staying silent, raised her hand to slap me, but I screamed louder than her. “Mom, I get it! I’m sorry! Please, don’t hit me again!” The two of them froze, thrown off by my reaction. Moments later, my dad stormed into the room, eyebrows knitted as he stepped between me and them. “Linda Grant, who the hell do you think you are, putting your hands on my daughter?” Travis quickly tried to cover, “Dad, don’t listen to Diana. Mom loves her! She’d never hit her.” Inside, I couldn’t help but laugh at his pathetic attempt. So, we’re playing pretend now? I raised my arm without a second thought, rolling up my sleeve to reveal the bruises. “Dad, I’m not lying. Mom hit me, just now.” “She called me a waste of space and said I was born to give up everything for Travis, so he could live a better life.” Already furious, my dad’s anger reached a boiling point. Without hesitating, he turned and slapped my mom across the face. “If I ever hear you say another word like that, pack your things and leave. Take your son with you!” I watched his retreating figure, my eyes filling with tears as a heavy fog of emotion welled up inside me. In both lives, he’d always been the one person who truly loved me. But this time, it’s my turn to protect him.
That night, I lay awake, memories of the last life replaying over and over in my mind. The torment, the betrayals—I’d make sure they paid for all of it, with interest. The next morning, while my parents took Travis to a parent-teacher meeting, I set up the camera I’d bought, aiming it directly at the guest bedroom where they often schemed. I refused to tutor Travis anymore, making an excuse about an upcoming business trip, and I checked into a cheap motel to put distance between us. Back when I’d first graduated and landed a job, my mom had taken my paycheck, saying it was for “family support.” Left with nothing, I’d worked days at my job and nights delivering takeout just to get by. Her demands had started small but grew rapidly. The more I gave, the greedier she got, wanting thousands each month for Travis’s needs. After a week, things calmed down, and my dad’s anger seemed to have subsided. I watched the footage from the camera on my phone, listening as my mom and Travis chatted in the guest bedroom. Travis was whining, clutching my mom’s arm. “Mom, all my friends have the latest iPhones. Can’t you just take some of Diana’s money and get me one?” “Look at this old phone; it’s so slow it can barely load my games!” My mom smiled tenderly, brushing his hair back—a softness I’d never seen directed toward me. “Baby, that money’s set aside for your future. Besides, that little idiot Diana’s still obedient. If she’d snitched to your dad, we’d have nothing left.” “She’s such a sucker,” Travis scoffed, lounging back as she fed him fruit. “You should just kill Dad. Then we’ll have everything to ourselves.” I felt a chill run down my spine. My mom hesitated, but he pressed on, “Remember the last time he nearly beat you to death? Showing him mercy is a danger to yourself.” “Well, he’s heading out of town tomorrow. Just get rat poison from his friend—that way, even if there’s an investigation, it won’t trace back to us.” I sat bolt upright in my bed, heart pounding as I calculated. They were planning to move soon. What I didn’t expect was for someone to make the first move before they could even begin.
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