My younger sister Ruth and I got a do-over, reborn to the day we were about to be adopted.

Ruth clung to Jeremy, the butcher who'd taken me in during my last life, and begged, "Please, Mr. Butcher, let me be your daughter!"

She thought she had it all figured out—Jeremy Butcher was set to rise to power, while the rich couple adopting her would crash and burn.

It was clear—she was gunning for the life I built in my last run.

I just smiled.

She had no clue. Jeremy's success? Yeah, that was all me. Without my help, he'd stay a small-town butcher forever.

From day one, Ruth was chasing a dream that was already doomed.

In my last life, Ruth and I were stuck in an orphanage, leaning on each other just to get by.

When we turned 17, two families came looking to adopt.

One was a butcher who sold pork at the market. The other? A flashy, rich couple who practically owned half the town.

Ruth didn't waste a second. She turned on the charm, buttering up the couple with fake smiles and teary pleas until they caved and picked her.

When it was my turn, though, she shoved me to the ground. "Daddy," she whined, clinging to the man's arm, "it'd be so much better if you just adopted me. I don't want anyone else stealing your love."

Older sister or not, I didn't stand a chance.

So, yeah, I got stuck with the butcher.

But life's funny like that. Later, everything flipped. The rich couple? Bankrupt, their empire crumbled, and Ruth? Back on the streets, broke and desperate.

Meanwhile, the butcher who adopted me wasn't just slicing pork anymore—he climbed straight to the top, becoming one of the most powerful figures in Ashport.

With his backing, I went from nobody to a corporate boss and political heavyweight. People admired me, feared me—sometimes both.

But Ruth stabbed me in the back. She stole classified company files, and when I turned her in to the cops, she lost it.

She went nuts in the police car, clawing at the steering wheel and swinging punches at the driver while screaming like a total maniac. "Suri, you miserable snake! The only reason you're better off is because you got a better dad!

"Why should you live better than me? I'll never accept it! If you're sending me to jail, I'll take you down with me!"

And then—BAM. The car smashed through the guardrail and flew off the highway, plunging into the river.

The crash killed everyone inside. Me included.

When I opened my eyes again, it wasn't heaven or hell—it was Ruth. She was clutching the hand of a middle-aged man, her voice sugary sweet.

"Mr. Butcher, please adopt me. I don't eat much, and I promise I'll be so good you won't even know I'm here."

That man? Jeremy Butcher. The guy who'd adopted me in my first life.

Hearing Ruth lay it on thick like that almost made me laugh. I got it instantly.

She'd been reborn too. And now? She was trying to steal my dad and hijack the future I'd worked hard for.

Nearby, a sleek, polished-looking woman tried to reason with Ruth, her expression awkward. "Ruth, we're a wealthy family. I'd spoil you rotten. Wouldn't you rather come with us and live in comfort?"

Ruth's face scrunched up like she'd just stepped in something nasty. She spat on the ground. "Ha! Your family's about to go bankrupt. What kind of 'comfort' could you possibly give me?"

Then she spun back to Jeremy, all sunshine and sugar, clinging to his arm. "Mr. Butcher, I don't know why, but I feel this... deep connection with you. You've got such a powerful presence—anyone can see you're meant for greatness.

"Please adopt me! I'll be the most obedient daughter you've ever had."

I almost laughed out loud.

In our last life, she couldn't stand Jeremy. She'd literally spat in his face once.

But now? Knowing he'd go from cutting pork to running the city, she was practically worshipping him.

It was crystal clear in this second life: Ruth was nothing but a leech.

Jeremy, who clearly wasn't used to being buttered up like this, lit up. He clasped Ruth's hand with his stubby fingers, laughing loud. "Alright, alright! From now on, you're my daughter!"

Meanwhile, the woman's husband looked ready to explode. "She cursed us for going bankrupt? What kind of twisted heart does a kid that young have?

"Come on, honey. We're NOT adopting her!"

Ruth's eyes darted around before she broke into crocodile tears, her face scrunched up like a tragic heroine. "I'm sorry, Mr. Carter, I didn't mean it. I misspoke."

Then, she shoved me forward. "Please adopt my sister instead. I promise she'll repay your kindness someday."

Benjamin Carter still looked like he was about to blow a gasket, but his wife, Miriam Payne, hesitated. She had that soft, bleeding heart written all over her face.

Sensing a chance, the orphanage director jumped in, pushing them to agree.

And just like that, they adopted me.

Back at their mansion, I downed a steaming bowl of chochoyotes and called them "Dad" and "Mom."

Later, I sent Ruth a text:

[Think getting adopted by my dad from the last life means you'll be living the dream?]

Her reply came faster than I expected:

[Suri, you were reborn too?]

[Doesn't matter. Jeremy adopted me now.]

[Before long, your fancy new family will go bankrupt. Just wait—you'll be begging on the streets, haha.]

I read her messages and couldn't help but smirk.

She had no clue. Jeremy's success? Yeah, that was all me. Without my help, he'd stay a small-town butcher forever.

Her little fantasy had already crashed and burned. She just didn't know it yet.

But I didn't bother explaining.

I'd let the truth hit her later—hard.

***

The next morning, I said to Benjamin, "Dad, I've always admired you and Carter Corp. Can I visit your company sometime?"

His expression didn't change, but I caught the faintest twitch of his brow. He didn't bother answering, just grabbed his coat and left.

Sitting at the breakfast table, I didn't rush.

If Carter Corp was going to crash later, there had to be cracks showing already.

Winning Benjamin's trust wouldn't be easy, but I knew one thing—if anyone could turn his sinking ship around, it was me.

For days, I played the perfect daughter. Obedient. Thoughtful. Charming. I buried myself in financial reports and business journals, casually dropping insights in conversations with Benjamin whenever I could.

I was even more attentive to Miriam.

Every morning, I brought her milk, taught myself recipes to cook for her, and made every effort to show her I cared.

Maybe it was because I'd never had a real family before, but I craved their approval.

Even though they kept their walls up, I refused to quit.

Then Ruth came over and blew my little fantasy apart with a recording pen.

Benjamin's cold, cutting voice crackled from the device:

"She's just an ungrateful brat. I'm not even dead yet, and she's already scheming to take over my company.

"A kid like her—rambling about Warren Buffett and throwing around financial terms like she's a Wall Street expert. Half the time, I don't even understand the books she's reading. Who does she think she's fooling?

"In a few years, I'll find a way to end the adoption. We only took her in to look good anyway."

Static buzzed for a second, then Miriam's voice came through, sharp and clear:

"Ruth, your sister is so gloomy, nothing like you— You're such a breath of fresh air. I wish we'd adopted you instead.

"She makes me food and soups, but I have the maid toss it all. Honestly, I'm scared she's trying to poison me."

...

When the recording ended, Ruth leaned back with a smug grin. "Suri, your mom and dad don't even like you.

"In my last life, they adored me. Even after going broke, they tried their best to pay for my tuition.

"Too bad for you—you're just not likable!"

So that's why she'd been keeping such a low profile lately. She'd been busy worming her way into my adoptive parents' good graces.

As she kept gloating, I glanced at her outfit—brand-new designer clothes. There was no way Jeremy could afford that. The only explanation? She'd sweet-talked Miriam into giving her money.

I stayed cool, casually pulling out my phone and hitting record. "If you like my parents so much, we can trade," I said, my tone calm and steady.

Ruth shrieked, "That old hag? She's sharp-faced and nasty—does she really think she's worthy of me as a daughter?

"And her husband? Making a little cash and acting like he's a big shot? In our last life, he was nothing more than my current dad's bootlicker!"

Her rant went on and on, each word dripping with venom.

When she finally ran out of steam, I smiled and tilted my phone to show her the recording screen.

Then, right in front of her shocked and furious eyes, I sent the file straight to Miriam.

Ruth lunged at me, clawing for my phone, but right then, her own phone buzzed.

I watched her freeze, her hand shaking as she glanced at the screen. Her face twisted with fury, and she shot me a look that could kill before jabbing the decline button.

Sure, she could dodge her call, but she couldn't stop me.

I calmly dialed Miriam and put the phone to my ear.

"Hi, Mom," I said, keeping my tone light. "Ruth is right here with me. Let me hand the phone to her."

I pressed the phone into Ruth's hand.

Her face turned ghostly white as Miriam's voice came through, sharp and cold.

"Ruth, I thought your remarks at the orphanage were just childish nonsense. I didn't take them to heart and even felt bad for you being stuck with that butcher, so I bought you clothes and snacks.

"But now? Now I see you're just a cruel, nasty kid.

"Don't contact me again."

The line went dead. Ruth stared at her phone, her fingers scrambling to type a message.

The screen glowed faintly in the dim room, a greenish hue washing over her face.

Each message she sent came back with a "Message Failed" notification.

Miriam had blocked her.

***

When I got home, Miriam was all smiles, meeting me at the door with a steaming bowl of chochoyotes.

Benjamin sat on the couch, pretending to read the newspaper. For once, he actually looked... relaxed when he glanced my way.

After I polished off the bowl, Benjamin cleared his throat. "Suri, why don't you visit my company this weekend? You've mentioned wanting to see it.

"When you graduate, I'll make sure there's a spot for you—anything below manager, your choice."

It took me a moment to look up from my bowl. Smiling brightly, I replied, "Appreciate it, Dad, but I'm busy this weekend."

Whether his company thrived or crashed? Not my problem.

***

Back at school, Ruth looked like a thunderstorm about to hit, her glare burning into the back of my head.

I didn't flinch. Didn't turn around. I kept my chin up and stayed locked on my notes.

In my last life, school had been ripped away from me the second Jeremy adopted me. He forced me to quit and work at his butcher shop.

I tried to fight it—once. A few hard slaps knocked the fight out of me.

After that, it was all pig pens and slaughterhouses. Days picking livestock and inspecting carcasses, nights crawling into bed smelling like filth and defeat.

Meanwhile, Ruth's social media was a nonstop parade of everything I couldn't have: designer bags, fancy dinners, beaches halfway across the world. She was living in color while I was stuck in dirt and gray.

Back then, I envied her so much it hurt.

Now, sitting here with a textbook in my hands, the smell of paper and ink hit me, and I had to blink fast to keep the tears from falling.

***

After class, Ruth was already surrounded by her crew—a bunch of girls rocking heavy eyeliner, ripped jeans, and that classic grunge, don't-care vibe. Same hooligan squad she rolled with in our last life. Somehow, she'd found them again, like clockwork.

Not my problem. I kept walking.

The lecture had left me lightheaded, so I made a beeline for the restroom.

I stayed in the stall longer than usual, waiting for my head to stop spinning. When things outside got quiet, I figured it was safe to leave.

Wrong move.

At the sink, washing my hands, I caught the reflection of Ruth's posse in the mirror. Arms crossed, eyes cold, blocking the hall like they owned it.

Before I could even think, a kick slammed me against the wall.

They pounced—punches, kicks, all of it. No hesitation. No mercy.

Time blurred into a painful eternity before someone shouted, "Stop!"

Ruth strolled in, slow and smug. She yanked a fistful of my hair, jerking my head up so I had to look at her.

"Tell me. How did Jeremy get rich in our last life? What happened? Spill, or I'll have them keep going."

Despite the bruises throbbing on my face, a strange calm washed over me.

She'd only been living with Jeremy for a month, and she was already cracking under the pressure. That's why she'd stooped to this—trying to beat the answers out of me.

"Fine," I said. "I'll tell you.

"Next month, on the 15th, at midnight, Jeremy will walk through the alley behind the school after drinking.

"If you follow him, you'll find out how he got rich."

Ruth frowned. "Drinking? He never drinks around me."

"Really?"

"Yes," she snapped. "He gets off work at nine every night, makes me a late-night snack, heats up milk, and tells me to go to bed early."

Huh. In my last life, Jeremy was a mean drunk. When he wasn't yelling, he was hitting, and when he wasn't hitting, he was forcing me to drop out of school and work like a mule. Every second in his house felt like a prison sentence.

Looking at Ruth now—radiant, spoiled, living her best life—I couldn't help but ask, "He treats you that well, and you're still not satisfied?"

The slap came fast. "Shut up! What if he doesn't go out that night?"

Whatever tiny shred of warmth I had left for her disappeared right then and there.

"Then get him drunk and drag him there yourself," I said, my voice ice-cold. "That way, you'll hit the jackpot right alongside him."