Met with my silence, Nathan raised a brow. "Let's be clear. I'll never like you. Don't get any ideas. And if you scheme against Valerie, I won't hold back."

"Good," I chuckled indifferently.

I yanked the necklace off, tossed it in the trash, and brushed past him.

...

In my past life, the Maddoxes took me in right after the orphanage director spotted my art talent.

They treated me well, but they insisted on molding me into a proper lady. Those endless etiquette and dance lessons made me a name in our circle.

Yet, I was always compared to Valerie until Dustin and Nathan arrived. Then she outshone me completely.

I locked myself away, winning multiple international youth art awards. My paintings were set for a major exhibition.

The night before the event, Valerie approached with some bottles. "I got these imported paints from abroad. They glow in the water. I'm so happy you're doing well."

I smiled, keeping the peace. "Thanks."

She linked arms with me. "No worries. We're family. I'll be at your exhibition with Dustin and Nathan to support you."

After she left, I tossed the paints aside.

The next day, the gallery buzzed with crowds. Valerie swept in, radiant in a red gown.

"Gail," she called out, hugging me. "That dress looks stunning. You never wear black."

Before I could respond, Nathan's mocking laugh cut through. "No matter how she dresses, she can't outshine you, Valerie. That dress is plain black, people might think she's at a funeral."

Valerie's grin widened, feigning a pout. "Oh, stop. I'm only dressed up because I just came from a performance."

She sidled up to Dustin, her expression theatrical. "Our duet today was a hit. And Gail's art is getting raves. Two big wins for the family. We're celebrating tonight."

Her voice carried, drawing attention and whispers.

"That's Valerie Maddox, the circle's top talent! She's gorgeous!"

"The Maddox family is blessed with two gifted daughters."

"Gail is alright. Who knows if her show is backed by strings? Valerie is the real deal."

Valerie basked in the praise, her cheeks turning rosy. I remained composed, mixing paints and preparing to work on a blank canvas.

A staff member announced, "Miss Gail Maddox, our special guest, will recreate Embers live."

The crowd's doubts faded, their gazes shifting from contempt to admiration.

Valerie's lips tightened, her face sour. I smirked and started to paint.

Valerie suddenly cried out, followed by a clatter.

Four paint cans lay spilled, colors pooling across the floor.

Valerie sat amid the mess. Her eyes teared up, her voice shaking. "I'm so sorry. I tripped."

"The four cans were side by side," I pointed out. "And you knocked over all of them?"

My blunt question caught her off guard, and her tears flowed harder. "I…"

Nathan stepped in front of her, shielding her like a knight. "Enough! She said it was an accident. Why drag it out? Get it cleaned up and mix new paints."

I clenched my fists, sneering. "My canvas is ruined. Do you know the cost of destroying this piece?"

Unwilling to argue with me, he led Valerie to leave. "Don't be ridiculous. How much could your painting be worth?"

Annoyed by his nonchalance, I took a deep breath and shoved him back. "Get out!"

...

The exhibition paused. I tore off the ruined canvas, retreating to the studio to mix new paints.

Someone shouted outside, "Fire!"

Screams pierced the door. Thinking of my hundreds of paintings, I grabbed a wet towel, covered my face, and ran out.

The gallery was in chaos, black smoke swirling. Flames were devouring my work.

Through the crowd, I saw Nathan shielding Valerie. His eyes were red with panic, veins bulging on his neck. I'd never seen him so desperate.

Memories of my past life's fire hit me, and I laughed, tears burning my eyes. My cheeks started to sting with the heat.

In that life, a beam crushed my ribs. Valerie shed a few scared tears, and Nathan rushed to her, ignoring my pleas.

"Valerie is frightened," he had said. "Hold on. The firefighters are coming."

The flames engulfed me. A searing pain pierced every inch of my body, but it was nothing compared to the pain in my heart.

He never called 911. He only cared about her.

In this life, it was the same.

My laughter grew, shaking my smoke-choked lungs until I coughed up blood.

I staggered to my feet, my vision blurring, and began to dance amidst the flames. My skirt swirled as I surrendered my body and tears to the inferno.

The fire devoured everything, reducing my art, my dreams, and my heart to ash.

That night, a headline shook the city.

[Prodigy artist Gail Maddox perishes in gallery blaze, her body burned beyond recognition.]