Chapter 1

Thanks for Taking My Ruin, Dear Sister!

The day my parents divorced, two agreements lay on the table.

One meant staying in the old neighborhood with my dad, who was drowning in gambling debts.

The other meant moving to the coast with my mom, who’d remarried a wealthy man.

In my last life, my little sister, Chloe, cried and begged for Mom. I quietly packed my bags and followed Dad.

Later, Dad quit gambling and became a millionaire, spoiling me rotten.

Chloe, however, was emotionally abused and trapped at home by her stepfather. She eventually succumbed to depression and passed away.

This time around, Chloe snatched the cigarette from Dad’s hand and hugged him tight, refusing to let go.

“Jade, I feel for Dad. You go to Mom’s, okay? I’ll keep the good life here for you.”

Dad paused, then affectionately stroked Chloe’s head, a look of relief on his face.

I said nothing, picking up the train ticket for the coast.

Chloe didn't know that in my last life, Dad only quit gambling because I, riddled with a brain tumor, worked myself to death to pay off his debts, coughing up blood. My life was the price for his temporary peace.

Now, reborn, with no debt collectors banging on the door, all I wanted was a good night's sleep.

......

I picked up my duffel bag.

“Get out, get out! Go find your mom, the one who only cares about money.”

Dad waved his hand, like shooing away a fly.

Chloe hid behind him, making a childish face at me.

Her lips exaggeratedly formed the words: “Sis, don’t come begging me for money later.”

I just smiled, saying nothing.

Then I turned and walked into the rain.

I pulled my neck into my shoulders, feeling a chill seep deep into my bones.

Honestly, it didn’t matter where I went.

I just wanted to find a quiet place to endure these last few moments.

No more hearing the gamblers’ creditors banging down the door.

No more smelling that sickening stench of cheap cigarettes.

Mom’s black Mercedes pulled up at the end of the alley.

The window rolled down, revealing her perfectly made-up face.

She frowned, looking at me, drenched from head to toe, a flicker of disgust in her eyes.

“What happened to you? Get in, quickly, don’t get the car dirty.”

I opened the back passenger door, about to slide in.

“Put that bag in the trunk.”

Mom pointed at the duffel bag in my hand.

“It’s filthy, probably crawling with germs.”

I paused.

But I still obediently closed the door and put the bag in the trunk.

Back in the car, I huddled in the corner, careful not to touch the luxurious leather seats.

The heater was on full blast, but I still felt cold.

“Jade, once we get there, you need to be sensible.”

Mom drove, glancing at me in the rearview mirror.

“Your stepfather doesn’t like noise. Don’t leave your room unless you have to.”

“Eat quietly, and don’t drag your feet when you walk.”

“And never mention your dad. He’s bad news.”

I looked out at the rain streaking past the window and nodded.

“Got it.”

The familiar spike of pain lanced through my head again.

My vision blurred for a second. I reached up and pressed my forehead.

“What’s wrong?” Mom asked, her tone laced with impatience.

“Nothing, just car sickness.” I said.

“So delicate,” Mom scoffed. “Just like your dad.”

I closed my eyes, swallowing back the metallic taste of blood that welled up in my throat.

Next time, no way I’m signing up for this again.

The drive took five hours.

By the time the car pulled into the hillside villa community, it was pitch black outside.

Though ablaze with lights, the whole place felt eerily dead.

“We’re here.”

Mom parked the car, touched up her lipstick, and took a deep breath.

She was shifting gears, transforming from the sharp-tongued woman she was with me into a sweet, devoted wife.

“Get out of the car. Remember to call him Mr. Henderson.”

I followed her inside, still carrying my duffel bag.

A man sat on the living room sofa, a blanket over his legs, a book in his hand.

He looked up when he heard us.

This was my stepfather, Robert Henderson.