After I died, my parents signed the organ donation form, giving my retina to their beloved adopted daughter, Liana Tate. Without me, they were finally a real family. Liana and I fought all our lives, and in the end, I was left with nothing but a broken heart. This time around, I decided to live for myself—and ended up with an unexpectedly happy ending. Content I was reborn, all the way back to the day Liana came into our home. If I’d returned a little earlier, maybe I could have prevented her parents’ tragic deaths, or even convinced my parents not to adopt her. But now, she was here, and no tantrum could change that. Liana was the daughter of my father’s mentor, a renowned artist who doted on her like a treasure. She had a natural gift for painting, but a mysterious eye disease made her vision unpredictable, and she faced the constant risk of blindness. After her parents passed away in an accident, leaving her alone, my parents took one look at her and decided she’d be like their own—even more so than their real daughter. “Marissa, haven’t you always wanted an older sister? From now on, Liana is your big sister! Aren’t you happy?” My mom and dad looked at me with that expectant, loving gaze, hoping I’d accept my new sister wholeheartedly. At seven, I was thrilled. I believed I’d gained a warm, loving family member and couldn’t wait to share my world with her. But Liana wasn’t here to share anything; she was here to take everything. “Marissa, I know you’re very mature,” Dad said, “but Liana isn’t well. Even though you’re younger, we need you to help us look after her. Can you do that?” I didn’t even get a chance to reply before Liana’s eyes brimmed with tears. “I know it’s hard for Marissa to accept me. Who would want to share their family’s love? I… I can just go back to the orphanage.” Sometimes I wondered if she, too, had come back with a second chance at life. How could an eight-year-old be so calculating? I hadn’t even objected, and yet she’d already cast me as the jealous, spoiled sister. Mom gently wiped Liana’s tears. “Oh, Liana, please don’t cry. It’s not good for your eyes.” “And you don’t need to call us ‘Mr. and Mrs. Locke.’ Starting today, we’re Mom and Dad to you.” Liana looked up, her young face streaked with tears and glistening lashes. She looked so innocently astonished, so pitiful, anyone would feel sorry for her. “I… I have a mom and dad now.” And just like that, they cried together, the three of them in a tight embrace. No one remembered to ask how I felt. Liana just had that effect on people.
That night, my parents made me share a room with Liana. I lay quietly in bed, wide awake, my mind racing with plans to become independent as soon as possible so I could leave. From my last life, I knew how it would go. From the moment she entered our family, Liana would make my parents—and even my brother—hers. In the dead of night, Liana crept out of bed, and I feigned sleep, watching her sneak into my parents’ room. “Mom! Dad! It’s so dark… my eyes hurt so much… I’m scared…” Overwhelmed by sympathy, my parents never stopped to wonder how Liana, in this strange house, had managed to find their room in the dark while supposedly suffering from an eye attack. All they did was wrap her in their arms, their eyes brimming with tears as they held her. “Liana, don’t be scared. We’re right here.” She shivered, pressing herself deeper into Mom’s embrace, the picture of a frightened little girl. “Mom… Dad… can I really stay in this family? Earlier, Marissa, she…” Hearing this, a chill settled over me. Moments later, Dad burst into my room, yanked me from bed, and demanded, “What did you say to Liana? How could you be so unkind? Liana’s been through so much already!” “Let’s not be too harsh,” Mom said softly, though she still held Liana tightly, never even glancing my way. In the end, they brought Liana into their room, leaving me alone, standing in the cold, dark hallway. They’d forgotten I was seven too, that I was scared of the dark and the cold, and that I still needed my parents’ love. Over time, I understood the game Liana played. She would pretend to suffer a relapse, stirring up sympathy, and then accuse me of things I hadn’t done. As I grew older, I saw the crisis: ever since she arrived, I’d been cast as the “bad child,” while she took over my place. And so began our rivalry. If Liana got something, I’d make sure to have it too. Liana was skilled at putting on a gentle, sweet front, while I, the real daughter, became the petty, jealous one. In the end, I lost at everything, even my brother Trevor, who’d once doted on me, fell under her spell. In the art world, everyone knew the Lockes had an angelic, talented adopted daughter, Liana Tate—and a bratty, jealous daughter named Marissa Locke. This time around, I’d had enough. I was done fighting Liana; I’d live the life I truly wanted.
The next morning, I walked downstairs to the sounds of laughter. Liana was sitting in my seat, eating with my favorite dishes and silverware. When she saw me, the warmth drained from the room as though I were the intruder. Mom’s face looked awkward. “Marissa, you’re up early today. Liana doesn’t have her own set yet, so we let her use yours. Why don’t you use Trevor’s?” “No, thank you. I don’t take what doesn’t belong to me.” Everyone caught my sarcasm. Dad, still upset with me for “bullying” Liana last night, glowered at me. I glanced at the table. Milk, sandwiches, eggs, and bacon—all of Liana’s favorites. I was lactose-intolerant, and I usually had oatmeal. “Oh, I forgot! Let me make you some soy milk instead,” Mom said quickly, eager to cover up her favoritism. Dad slammed his cup on the table. “Why do we need so many special treatments? She’s already spoiled enough!” If I were the same girl from before, I’d be heartbroken, ready to throw a fit. Now, though, I just felt numb. I sat silently at the edge of the table and caught Liana’s satisfied smirk as she ate. When she glanced up again, her face was all sadness. “Dad, don’t be so harsh on Marissa. She grew up pampered; it’s only natural for her to act spoiled. It shows how much you love her.” And just like that, my parents were moved to tears by her “grace.” How angelic she seemed in contrast to me, the ungrateful daughter. But I didn’t care. In my last life, I’d practically disowned them already. I could’ve pretended to adore Liana, played the obedient little sister. But I wanted her to know: all the love and admiration she fought so hard for meant nothing to me.
By the time the three of them came back from enrolling her in a new school, I’d already moved my things to the guest room. It wasn’t about giving her my space—I just wanted some privacy. Dad patted my head. “Marissa, you’re such a good girl. Just like Daddy’s little angel.” A younger me would have basked in those words, but now I knew what he really meant: if I could sacrifice my happiness for Liana’s sake, only then was I worthy of his love. Liana didn’t hesitate to barge into my room, looking over the art supplies Mom and Dad had once bought just for me. Her face turned pale as she threw herself, sobbing, into Mom’s arms. “I just wish I could paint freely like Marissa.” Mom looked at me apologetically, hesitating before finally speaking. “Marissa, I know this is unfair, but for Liana’s sake, could you put your art supplies away?” This was how it started: my space, my hobbies, even my dreams were slowly pushed aside for Liana’s sake. In my last life, Liana’s failing eyesight meant she couldn’t paint for long. So, I was forced to cut back on my own painting time, even though I was the artist’s daughter. Liana’s work was framed and displayed while mine sat at the bottom of a forgotten art box. When the time for our college art exams came, Liana’s eye issues flared up halfway through her exam. She wasn’t able to finish, so she switched her name onto my piece. When the results came in, I recognized my own work with Liana’s name on it. I begged Mom and Dad to help me. Instead, they held a sobbing Liana and gently told me to be the bigger person. “Marissa, you’ll have another chance next year. Liana’s running out of time—any day now, she could go blind.” It was so easy for them to say, but only I knew how many nights I’d spent practicing, nearly going blind myself from exhaustion. I screamed, “Isn’t it enough that she took you from me? Now she has to take my life too? Give me my spot back, or I’ll leave for good.” Instead of remorse, all I got was a stinging slap. “Without Liana’s eye problems, do you really think you’d have won? You have no talent! Even in art school, you’d be at the bottom of the class.” I clutched my burning cheek, stunned that my own father would say such words to me. In the end, Liana took my spot at the academy, and I became the joke of the art world—a failed artist overshadowed by the girl who could barely see. This time around, I was done. In front of my parents, I threw my art supplies in the trash. Dad’s face darkened, but they knew they were in the wrong, so they left, with Liana right beside them.
When summer break arrived, my brother Trevor came back from studying abroad, mainly to meet the “legendary” new sister, Liana Tate. Just like in my past life, the moment Trevor laid eyes on Liana, he was utterly enchanted. Liana wore a blindfold, stumbling around the living room like she was lost in darkness until she “accidentally” fell right into Trevor’s arms. Blushing, she murmured in that delicate voice of hers, “Since I don’t know when I’ll go blind, I thought I should get used to darkness now. That way, I won’t be a burden to Mom, Dad, or you.” She had such a way with words. In just one sentence, she managed to make me seem unnecessary, even subtly hinting that Trevor and I didn’t get along. Trevor, full of youthful idealism, was so shaken he couldn’t even speak, gazing at her like she was a damsel from some tragic romance movie. He made up his mind right then and there to protect her for life. My parents suggested we all go out to celebrate Trevor’s return. I wanted no part of it; the four of them looked like a perfect, happy family, and there was no place for me, the bratty, unloved youngest daughter. But Liana wouldn’t let it go. She hid in a corner, tearing up like a sad little pearl. “Mom, Dad, why don’t you just go with Trevor and Marissa? You all deserve a family day without me ruining it.” Trevor got flustered and gently wiped her tears. “Why would you say that? We’re a family now.” Liana acted shy, pulling back from his touch and glancing at me with a helpless look, silently accusing me of something. Trevor turned to me with a scowl. “Marissa! Why are you bullying Liana? This isn’t like you; you used to be so sweet!” Who had changed? They were the ones who’d become strangers: Mom, who had always thought of me first; Dad, who’d been strict but fair; even Trevor, my once-protective big brother. I looked him in the eye, laughing coldly. “Why don’t you ask Liana? How did I ‘bully’ her? I gave up my room for her. What else does she need?” My question caught Liana off guard. She avoided my gaze, but this only strengthened Trevor’s resolve to defend her. “It’s that high-and-mighty attitude that hurts her! She just got here, so naturally you should make her feel welcome!” Suddenly, I was the enemy, while Trevor played the knight defending his “princess.” Mom and Dad chimed in, “Marissa, Trevor doesn’t visit often. Don’t upset him. Apologize to him and Liana.” I looked over this family, who seemed determined to put Liana’s feelings above everything else, and said, “Liana can have anything she wants because I don’t care—but I’m not apologizing.” With that, I walked to my room and locked the door, letting Trevor’s frustrated shouts fade into the background. They spent the entire day out without calling to check on me or even bringing me dinner. In my last life, I would’ve been heartbroken, maybe even starved myself to make them feel guilty. Now, I knew it was pointless; it only hurt me. I made myself a big bowl of ramen, spread out the study guides I’d secretly bought, and settled in. Since my rebirth, I’d been focused on improving myself, pushing forward every day. This time around, I planned to create a life for myself. After careful thought, I decided to study medicine.
At seven years old, I still had the mind of my twenty-something self from my past life, and academically, I was miles ahead of Liana. Her “delicate angel” act might work on my saintly parents, but it didn’t fool the teachers. Failing grades were failing grades. When finals came, I scored first in my grade, while Liana barely passed. Every time a teacher called our parents about her poor performance, she’d tear up, blaming her eye condition. Yet she stubbornly refused to transfer to a specialized school. Each exam season, the house was in chaos as she “struggled” to study, while I took it in stride. To spare her feelings, my saintly parents decided they’d both attend Liana’s parent-teacher conference—even though it was on the same day as mine. They had to know that their favoritism was already causing my classmates to bully me, calling me a “loveless nobody.” Any time they wanted to brush aside my needs for Liana’s sake, they used that tired line I’d heard a thousand times: “Liana’s health isn’t good, and she’s had a hard life. Just give her a little grace.” But I didn’t care. Knowledge was my greatest weapon. I used every spare moment to study, and by twelve, I skipped a grade, becoming the youngest high schooler in our city’s history. Suddenly, my name was everywhere. Everyone knew the Locke family had a prodigy daughter. Dad’s phone rang off the hook with calls from well-connected families hoping to arrange friendships or even engagements. But because he wanted to protect Liana’s feelings, he turned down every invitation, never considering how these connections could benefit my future. Of course, how could I possibly compare to his beloved Liana? When the acceptance letter arrived, my principal, Caroline Quincy, and a reporter personally came to deliver it. But my parents were already rushing out the door, taking Liana to the hospital because she’d complained of a “headache.” They didn’t even stop to greet the principal. Even though I’d long since given up hope for my parents’ support, there was a pang of disappointment. Principal Quincy looked at me intently and said, “Our school doesn’t usually allow boarding, but if you want to live on campus, I’ll arrange it.” She patted my head, and I felt a long-forgotten warmth. Tears welled up as I realized how much I missed the care and kindness of someone who truly looked out for me. That single moment brought two of the most important people into my life.
As the school year approached, I couldn’t wait to move out of the chilly, loveless Locke house and into the school dorms. That day, predictably, Mom and Dad had been called away by Liana’s latest “health crisis.” Trevor was home on break but made no move to help me pack. He simply watched me bustle around, and when I was about to leave, he muttered, “Guess things’ll be peaceful around here for once.” I hoisted my last bag into the taxi, not sparing him a glance. Principal Quincy had arranged a lovely room for me—actually a converted faculty apartment, cozy and well-equipped. I spent a full day cleaning and organizing, then headed to the bookstore to stock up on study materials. High school would be intense, and I was determined to excel. When classes started, I wasn’t surprised to find myself ostracized. Rumor had it that Principal Quincy had “made an exception” for me, and whispers quickly followed. “Oh, look, the 12-year-old prodigy is here.” “Think she’ll cry and want her mom at night?” “Maybe we should put her next to the water cooler so she can make her baby formula during breaks.”
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