Chapter 1

"Zoey, are you going to admit your mistake or not?"

Water filled Zoella Fincheman's nose and mouth, burning her throat as she choked.

Through the haze of near-drowning, Zoella forced her eyes open.

On the edge of the pool stood her second brother, Bobby. Beside him, her fourth brother, Dennis, was holding Jasmine Delaney in his arms.

A strange sense of déjà vu washed over her.

Hadn't she already died?

Was she back three years ago, on the very day Jasmine was officially adopted into the Finchman family?

At that banquet, Jasmine had set her up, making it look like she had deliberately pushed her into the water.

Dennis had been the first to arrive. But instead of saving them both, he had only rescued Jasmine—leaving Zoella, who also couldn't swim, to struggle alone.

And Bobby had just stood there, demanding that she admit to a crime she hadn't committed, as if her confession were the price for her life.

Zoella had begged, gasping for breath, swallowing water between desperate pleas for help. Only when she was on the brink of death had they finally pulled her out.

After that, she never dared to cross Jasmine again. She played along, carefully pleasing her brothers, thinking that if she was obedient enough, she would finally belong.

But what had she gotten in return?

Jasmine had stolen her thesis. Bobby had testified on her behalf, framing Zoella as a plagiarist and getting her expelled.

When Jasmine needed a kidney transplant, Zoella's third brother, Carson Finchman personally dragged Zoella to the operating room, handing her over like a spare part.

When Jasmine wanted an international title, Dennis, her fifth brother Eugene, and her sixth brother Fred had no hesitation kicking Zoella off the team to make room for her.

And when Zoella finally gathered evidence—proof that Jasmine had forged medical records, that she had stolen her thesis—she had taken it to her eldest brother, Aaron Finchman, hoping to expose the truth.

But no one listened. No one even looked at the evidence.

Instead, Aaron had her thrown out of the house, telling her to reflect on her actions.

Homeless and penniless, she had learned the hard way what it meant to be abandoned.

The memories surged back like an unstoppable tide.

Zoella stopped struggling. Her body went limp, and she sunk straight to the bottom of the pool.

Her eyes remained open, staring at the shifting light above, but there was no fear, no resistance.

On the poolside, her brothers surrounded Jasmine, comforting her. Even now, the sight sent a sharp, unbearable pain through her chest.

How ridiculous.

Their real sister meant less to them than an outsider.

Bobby had been focused on Jasmine the entire time, only turning around when he noticed the absence of Zoella's frantic splashes. When he finally looked—she was already at the bottom of the pool.

His face drained of color.

"Zoey!"

With a sharp gasp, he jumped in without hesitation.

Jasmine's eyes flickered with something bright—satisfaction. If Zoella died, all her problems would disappear.

Feigning weakness, she tugged on Dennis's sleeve, her voice soft and trembling. "Cough… Dennis, I want to help save Zoey. It's my fault she fell in…"

Dennis had been worried about Zoella too. But hearing that, he hesitated, then shook his head, quickly reassuring Jasmine. "Don't be ridiculous. Bobby will save her. Zoey brought this on herself. Don't worry, she won't die."

Still, as he turned to look at the pool, his expression was strangely complicated.

Underwater, Zoella watched as Bobby swam toward her, concern written all over his face.

How ironic.

Moments ago, he had stood there, forcing her to apologize, watching her struggle indifferently.

Now he wanted to save her?

She didn't need his help.

A faint smirk played on her lips. Instead of reaching for him, she turned and swam away.

In her past life, after nearly drowning, Bobby had forced her to learn how to swim with Jasmine. She had been terrified, traumatized. But to make him happy, she had pushed through her fear and learned anyway.

And yet, in the end, he had only praised Jasmine for her courage.

No one had cared about the nightmares, the panic attacks, the lasting damage that one extra minute in the water had left on her.

Because to them, Zoella had never mattered.

"Zoella Finchman! What are you playing at? You pretended to drown so you would get out of trouble?"

Bobby blocked her path, frowning. Something about her was different. Since when could she swim?

Zoella looked up at him.

Once upon a time, she had adored her second brother.

Their eldest brother had always been harsh, but Bobby had been warm, kinder—at least, that's what she had thought.

Now, all she saw in his eyes was frustration and annoyance.

Then, Jasmine's soft, pitiful voice rang out. "Bobby, please don't blame Zoey. I know she never liked me being part of your family. I was greedy… I shouldn't have wished for a family of my own. Please don't fight because of me… You're all so important to me…"

Dennis turned on Zoella, his eyes burning with anger. "Are you satisfied now? If her dad hadn't died saving you, she wouldn't even be an orphan! You should've died instead!"

Bobby's expression darkened. "Zoey, you should have a conscience. We should treat Jasmine as family. Our family owes her this much. In fact, you owe her even more. You understand?"

"Bobby, someone as ungrateful as her wouldn't understand. If she did, she wouldn't have pushed Jasmine into the water. If Mr. Delaney had saved a dog instead of her, it would've been more grateful," Dennis scoffed.

Zoella felt like she was standing in a wasteland, cold to her bones.

If she had a choice, she would rather not have been saved at all.

Swallowing down the searing pain in her lungs, she forced herself to speak. Her voice came out raw and hoarse. "You're right. It was my fault. It won't happen again."

Because she wouldn't be that stupid anymore.

If they wanted Jasmine as their sister—fine.

She would let them have it their way.

"Zoey, so you really did push her in on purpose? Do you have any idea that Jasmine can't swim? She could've died!"

Bobby's voice was filled with disappointment. He had assumed it was just an accident, but now he realized—Zoella had deliberately tried to drown Jasmine.

When had she become this vicious?

Just then, the family doctor arrived. Dennis turned to Zoella, his expression cold with anger. "You'd better pray Jasmine is okay. Otherwise, when Aaron gets back, you'll regret it."

Bobby started to follow the doctor but hesitated. He glanced back at Zoella, standing there soaking wet, her face deathly pale.

For a moment, his heart softened.

"Go change your clothes," he said. "The party's about to start."

Zoella said nothing.

Soon, she was alone.

She stayed frozen in place until their footsteps faded, then suddenly bent over, wracked with violent coughs, as if she were trying to expel her very lungs. The metallic taste of blood filled her throat, but she swallowed it back down, gripping the wall for support.

Then she straightened up and headed back to her room.

Sinking into the bathtub, she closed her eyes.

In her past life, after being abandoned and forced onto the streets, she had tried to kill Jasmine.

She had failed.

Aaron had her locked away in a mental hospital, where Jasmine's bribed caretakers tortured her to death.

Zoella covered her face and laughed—a hollow, chilling sound.

How poetic.

When she opened her eyes again, they were devoid of warmth.

After changing into fresh clothes, she took in her surroundings. The bedroom still felt unfamiliar.

In her last life, this room had eventually been given to Jasmine, while she was sent to live in the tiny guest room.

Her eyes landed on a framed family photo on the desk. A couple held a baby in their arms, surrounded by six boys.

Her parents had died in a car accident when she was just a few years old.

The driver had saved her first, but when he went back for her parents, the fuel tank exploded. He died too.

Jasmine was that driver's only daughter. She was delicate and sickly from birth.

After the accident, Aaron took Jasmine in and raised her alongside Zoella.

That was when everything changed.

The brothers she adored slowly turned their attention to Jasmine.

"Jasmine's health is fragile, so I hired a chef just for her. Zoey, make sure she eats properly."

"Zoey, Jasmine wants to learn how to paint too. You've already picked it up—let her have your teacher."

"Zoey, step down from the competition. Let Jasmine take your place. She's been preparing for this for a long time."

"Zoey, Jasmine's grades aren't great. Go to the same university as her so you can look out for her."

…

Zoella pressed her hands against her temples. A dull, suffocating pain spread through her chest.

She took slow, steady breaths, forcing it down.

Never again.

She wanted nothing to do with the Finchman family in this lifetime.

Reaching for the framed photo, she tucked it away in a drawer and started packing her things.

A knock on the door interrupted her.

"Miss Zoella, the party is starting. Master Bobby asked you to come down once you're ready."

"I will." She opened the door and walked straight toward the crowded party.

The maid watching her gasped. "What is she wearing? Did she just lose her mind?"

Outside, the party was already in full swing.

Jasmine stood in the center of the crowd, dressed in an elegant white gown, her long black hair cascading over her shoulders. She looked every bit the sweet, innocent girl next door.

Beside her, Bobby and Dennis stood close, gazing at her with warmth and affection.

The scene was almost picture-perfect.

Bobby couldn't help but think—if only Zoella were this obedient, this well-mannered.

She had grown more reckless and defiant with each passing year.

Then someone in the crowd gasped. "Zoella is here!"