For over half her life, my mother favored boys over girls. But at the age of fifty, an accident left her paralyzed from the waist down. My freeloading brother, her precious son, didn’t step up to care for her for a single day. I never married. I took care of her all by myself for twenty years, right up until the day she passed away peacefully. What nobody knew was that after my mother died, she was reborn. She woke up in the past, right in the year I turned eighteen. 1 “Harper Reed, did you actually buy a new phone?!” During my summer break at home, a corner of my new phone accidentally peeked out of my pocket. Mason, who was lounging on the sofa watching TV, spotted it instantly. Dropping his bag of potato chips, he lunged at me, snatched the phone from my pocket, and held it up excitedly, examining it from every angle. Alarm bells went off in my head. I had a bad feeling about this. “What are you doing? Give it back!” “Heh, it’s mine now!” Mason tried to unlock it, failing a few password attempts before bossily ordering me to open it for him. I panicked and blurted out, “I bought that with my own money from my part-time job! You can’t take it!” “I want it, so I’m taking it! Watch me!” “You already have a phone! Why do you have to steal mine?” I had worked myself to the bone, waking up early and staying up late at my part-time job just to afford this phone. How could I bear to just hand it over? Besides, Mason was only in high school and already had the newest iPhone. Mine was just a basic $300 Android. He was just so used to taking my things. Even if he didn’t need it, he had to take it! “So what? What’s wrong with having two phones?” I suppressed my rage. “Give it back!” “Mom! Hey, Mom!” Hearing him call for our mother, my heart sank. Since we were little, my parents always did everything in their power to give Mason whatever he wanted, let alone something of mine he simply took a liking to. It wasn’t that I hadn’t fought back before, but my protests only ever earned me a scolding or a beating. “You’re the older sister, what’s wrong with letting your little brother have his way? Why are you such an ungrateful brat?!” “You’ll get married and leave eventually. The Reed family is going to rely on your brother to carry the name. Don’t even try to compare yourself to him, you hear me?” I had heard those words countless times. Seeing the defeated look on my face, Mason laughed smugly, making obnoxious faces at me. I was shaking with anger, wishing I could slap that look right off his face. Smack! A crisp, sharp sound echoed in the room. Someone had actually slapped Mason hard across the face! 2 My eyes widened in shock. Mason clutched his cheek, his eyes equally wide. “You ungrateful little punk! Is your sister’s phone yours to take? Give it right back!” I didn’t even notice when my mom had come out of the bedroom. After slapping Mason, she stood there with one hand on her hip, pointing fiercely at the phone in his hand, barking orders like a drill sergeant. I had seen this terrifying, furious expression a million times growing up, but… it had always been directed at me. This was the first time I had ever seen my mom blow up at Mason. “Mom! You hit me? You actually hit me?! You hit me over Harper?!” Still in a state of sheer shock, Mason shrieked at her. Smack! Another slap landed on the other side of Mason’s face! My mom’s fury only seemed to intensify. “Damn right I hit you! And who gave you permission to call your sister by her first name like you’re equals? From now on, you show her some respect!” My jaw practically hit the floor. Since he was seven or eight, Mason had always called me by my first name. The whole family knew it, but they had always silently permitted it. Spoiled rotten since birth, Mason had never been treated like this. Once the reality set in, he started bawling hysterically, his face contorting with rage as he violently spiked my phone onto the hardwood floor! “No! I won’t! If I can’t have this phone, Harper isn’t using it either!” After screaming his lungs out, Mason bolted for his bedroom and slammed the door so hard the walls shook, making me flinch instinctively. 3 My heart ached as I looked down at the shattered spiderweb screen. I quickly crouched down to pick it up. While doing the mental math on how much a screen replacement would cost, I tried to figure out why my mom was acting so bizarre today. “Harper, leave the phone. We’ll go buy you a new one later.” I looked up in disbelief, meeting my mother’s loving, gentle gaze. My heart skipped a beat. I admit, seeing my mom act like a loving mother was nice, but it was far too sudden. I was so unaccustomed to it that I honestly wondered if I was dreaming. She pulled me to my feet, looking me up and down obsessively. Her eyes were filled with an emotion I couldn’t comprehend. I stood there uncomfortably, letting her stare. Huh? Were my eyes playing tricks on me? Why did she look like she was crying? She stroked my hair, muttering to herself. “Thank God… Harper doesn’t have any gray hair yet.” Uh, I was eighteen and just starting college. Of course I didn’t have gray hair. She gently touched my hands. “Your hands are still soft, too. No calluses.” Um… well, I only did the daily dishwashing. That wasn’t enough to give me a pair of hardened worker’s hands. Then she rubbed my back. “And your back is straight. You’re not hunched over.” I frowned. I wasn’t an old lady, why would I be hunched over? I finally couldn’t take it anymore. “Mom, what’s wrong with you?” My mom wiped her tears away and forced a smile. “Mom’s fine. I just woke up from my nap and heard your brother screaming. Your father and I have spoiled that boy rotten! Don’t worry, he’ll never dare snatch your things again. If he ever pulls a stunt like today, I’ll beat him within an inch of his life!” For the last sentence, she intentionally raised her voice, aiming it straight at Mason’s bedroom door. Crash! It sounded like Mason had thrown something against the wall in his room. 4 My mom smiled at me again, her voice softening. “Harper, Mom’s going to transfer $1,500 to you. You go buy whatever phone you want.” With that, she patted my hand, turned into the kitchen, grabbed a heavy wooden spoon, and marched toward Mason’s room. “Who are you throwing a tantrum for?!” “Mom! Why are you hitting me again?!” “Because you deserve it! If you ever disrespect your sister like that again, I’ll hit you harder!” “Ah! Ow! Stop!” Amidst Mason’s agonizing screams, I blankly pinched my own thigh. Ouch. It hurt. After teaching Mason a lesson, my mom actually transferred $1,500 into my bank account. But I was terrified to spend it. I was afraid I’d wake up tomorrow and everything would go back to normal. Before dinner, my mom came over specifically to ask what I wanted to eat. She looked incredibly guilty and said awkwardly, “Harper, Mom was wrong in the past. I didn’t care for you enough. Whatever you want to eat, Mom will make it for you.” Since my earliest memories, the rules for me were: no picky eating, no wasting food, and no asking for treats. But Mason got to do all of those things. If there was something he didn’t like, my parents made me eat it. If he couldn’t finish his food, they scraped it onto my plate. If he craved something, my mom would make it instantly, or my dad would drive out to buy it for him. What I liked to eat, or what I hated—nobody cared, and nobody knew. “Um… anything is fine, Mom. I love whatever you cook.” To be honest, I didn’t even know what my favorite food was. In my mind, there was only food I had to eat, food I could eat, and food Mason wanted that I wasn’t allowed to touch.
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