In my past life, I was Emily Foster, the substitute for Alexander Carter’s idealized first love – cherished one moment, discarded the next. Just because a new girl appeared who looked more like his first love, I was ruthlessly abandoned. In the end, I was killed by his new flame. When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn as my suicidal twin sister. It felt like jumping from one cage into another hell. The good thing was, the substitute for his first love was gone, and now I had become the substitute. Alexander Carter started acting like a clingy puppy that couldn’t be shooed away. As memories flooded back, my head felt like it was about to split open. The last image that flashed before my eyes was Olivia Parker’s smug face. “Emily, don’t blame me. If you have to blame someone, blame yourself for being in the way.” “Alexander loves that face, and I look more like her than you do, don’t I?” “So, just die already.” She laughed as she pushed me off the 30-story building. Seconds later, I was engulfed in darkness. So, I was never more than a shadow of Alexander Carter’s idealized first love. A cheap substitute that could be replaced at any time. A dull ache spread through my chest. I struggled to sit up, looking around the unfamiliar and dilapidated room. The walls were peeling, and the only furniture was an old wooden table and a chair with a broken leg. I stumbled to the only mirror hanging on the wall. The person in the mirror made my pupils constrict. My arms were covered in purple bruises, old injuries layered with new ones. But the facial features were clearly seven or eight tenths similar to mine before I died. Only younger, and more… battered. Who was this? Why was I here? “You lazy brat! What are you dawdling for? Have you washed the dishes yet?!” A woman’s shrill, harsh voice came from outside the door, accompanied by loud banging. I instinctively shrank back, my body’s reflexes carrying deep-seated fear. An obese figure burst through the door, hands on hips, spittle flying as she pointed at me. “Always slacking off! Get your ass to the kitchen and wash those dishes! Do you want to starve?!” I looked at her, my gaze cold. It seemed the heavens hadn’t let me die completely. They had given me a new identity. The original owner of this body was called Mia Foster, an adopted child in this family. The fat woman was her foster mother, Linda. There was also a foster father, Frank, who spent his days idling and either beating or scolding her, and a good-for-nothing brother, Tyler. In this family, Mia was treated like an unpaid servant, living a life worse than a dog’s. Her personality was timid, submissive, even numb. This made it convenient for me to hide my true self. Until that day, when I found an old notebook under the floorboards. It was Mia’s diary. Out of curiosity about the original owner of this body, I opened it. The handwriting was messy, recording years of darkness. “Got beaten again today. My arm hurts so much. Mom said it’s because I was disobedient.” “Tyler stole the five dollars I had secretly saved up. Dad saw and just laughed at me.” “They said I’m an abandoned bastard, eating for free, so I should do all the work.” “I want to die so badly. Would death finally set me free?” Page after page, line after line, all were cries of despair and pain. Long-term physical abuse and mental torture had left her unable to see any light. The last few pages of the diary detailed her plans for suicide. So, I had been reborn because she had actively given up her own life. My chest felt tight. I continued flipping through, and several photos slipped out from the diary. One was a family photo of young Mia with her foster parents and brother. She was timidly hiding in the corner. There were also a few photos of a gentle, beautiful woman holding a baby. That woman’s face… My breath caught sharply. It was my deceased mother! In her diary, Mia had written that she was abandoned, with only a photo of her mother holding her as a keepsake. Combined with this face so similar to mine… A ridiculous thought struck me. Mia Foster was my long-lost twin sister! We were actually twins! I held the photos, tears silently falling. So I wasn’t alone after all. I once had a sister. But she had died in this hell, tortured to death.
From that day on, Mia Foster changed. When Tyler came home drunk again, wanting to get handsy with me like usual, I didn’t dodge. As he approached, I grabbed the ashtray from the table and smashed it against his forehead. He clutched his bleeding forehead, looking at me in disbelief. “You dare hit me?!” I coldly looked at him. “Get lost.” He cursed and charged at me. I dodged to the side, simultaneously knocking out a small packet of white powder hidden in his pocket. His face changed drastically as he hurriedly tried to pick it up. I didn’t give him the chance, immediately calling the police on my phone. “Hello, police? I’d like to report drug use and illegal gambling.” When Tyler was taken away by the police, his eyes were full of hatred. Linda and Frank naturally took out their anger on me. Linda pointed at my nose and cursed, “You ungrateful bitch! You jinx! How dare you hurt your brother!” Frank raised his hand to hit me. I didn’t dodge, instead meeting his gaze and speaking. “Dad, you didn’t come home last night. Were you at that widow Jenny’s house down the street?” “I saw you, you know. She had her arms around your neck, calling you ‘darling’.” Frank’s face instantly turned pale, his raised hand frozen in mid-air. Linda was stunned for a moment, then pounced on Frank like a madwoman, scratching and hitting. “You bastard, Frank! How dare you cheat on me!” “I’ll kill you!” The house instantly descended into chaos. The news of her husband’s affair was enough to keep Linda occupied for a while. She wouldn’t have the energy to cause me trouble for now. I coldly watched all this, feeling no ripples in my heart. This was just the beginning. Using Emily Foster’s memories from my past life, I had accumulated some knowledge and insight into the financial markets. I used the little money Mia had secretly saved as seed capital and made a few short-term trades in the stock market. Luck was on my side, and I earned my first chunk of startup capital. I kept quiet about it, secretly moving out and renting a small studio apartment in the city. I bought a few well-fitting clothes and applied light makeup. The girl in the mirror had shed her previous timidity and dullness. Though still thin, her eyes were calm and sharp. This face looked so much like Emily Foster’s. Enough to make Alexander Carter lose his composure. I knew Alexander Carter’s habits. Every Friday afternoon, he would go to a teahouse in the west of the city. It was the place he and his first love used to love going to. How devoted. I timed it perfectly and walked into the teahouse. I chose a seat by the window and ordered the most ordinary green tea. Before long, Alexander Carter’s figure appeared. He was wearing a well-tailored black suit, handsome and dignified. He walked straight towards his usual private room. As he passed by me, his footsteps faltered. I could feel his gaze on me, scrutinizing and uncertain. I didn’t look up, pretending to be focused on the view outside, my fingers unconsciously tracing the rim of the cup. From the corner of my eye, I saw him standing there, looking at me for a full half minute. Then he continued towards the private room, though his steps seemed to have slowed.
A few days later, someone claiming to be Alexander Carter’s assistant contacted me. “Miss Foster, our Mr. Carter would like to invite you to dinner. Would that be convenient for you?” I spoke into the phone, my voice tinged with timidity and confusion. “Mr. Carter? I don’t know him…” “It’s like this – Mr. Carter saw you at the Serenity Teahouse the other day and thought you looked very similar to an old acquaintance. He’d like to get to know you.” I inwardly smirked, but outwardly agreed. “Oh, alright then.” The dinner was set at a high-end Western restaurant. Alexander Carter sat across from me, his gaze barely leaving my face. “Miss Foster, I apologize for being so forward, but you look very much like someone I know,” he began, his voice low. I lowered my head, fidgeting with the hem of my clothes, putting on an act of nervousness. “Is that so?” “Her name was Emily Foster.” He said the name slowly, watching intently for my reaction. My heart stung sharply, but my face showed only confusion. “Emily Foster? I don’t know her…” He seemed somewhat disappointed, yet also relieved. For the rest of the time, he probed indirectly about my background. I responded with half-truths and half-lies, portraying myself as Mia Foster – a girl from a poor family with a sad past. I deliberately mimicked some of Emily’s small habits, like slightly pursing my lips when drinking water, or gently biting my lower lip when thinking. These details made Alexander Carter’s gaze grow increasingly complex. Over the next few days, he frequently asked me out, sent me gifts, and took me to various high-end places. Bags, jewelry, clothes – all brands and styles that Emily used to like. The way he looked at me was sometimes gentle, sometimes dazed, as if seeing someone else through me. I knew that in his eyes, I had become another substitute. How laughable. He would never know that this new substitute he was trying to control had the soul of Emily Foster, the one he had abandoned. Once, while dining with Alexander Carter, I accidentally raised my hand to brush back my hair, revealing a bruise on my wrist that hadn’t fully faded. Alexander Carter’s gaze instantly froze. He grabbed my wrist, his face terrifyingly dark. “How did this happen?” I hurriedly pulled my hand back, lowering my head, my voice trembling. “It’s nothing, just an accident.” “Mia Foster!” He raised his voice. “Tell me, who did this?”
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