She Was Born Again, So She Stopped Begging For Their Love Chapter 01

She Was Born Again, So She Stopped Begging For Their Love Chapter 01

Grace Bennett was reborn.

Back to the day she turned thirteen. The day her parents brought home their adopted daughter, Chloe Miller.

In her past life, it took her thirty-two years to figure out one simple truth—in this family, she was always the extra one.

Her mother only had eyes for sweet, obedient Chloe. Her father’s smile always landed first on the girl who had no parents.

She clawed her way to the top of her class, won scholarships, became everything people could ever want—and still, when she got sick, a phone call to her parents couldn’t even earn her a “get some rest.”

In the end, she died alone in a hospital bed. No one came.

Now she was back. Grace wasn’t going to fight, wasn’t going to make a scene, wasn’t going to hope.

She watched her mother carefully ladle soup into Chloe’s bowl, watched her father lovingly pile food onto Chloe’s plate, watched the three of them, cozy and happy. Then she quietly put down her chopsticks and walked away.

Starting today, she didn’t want this family anymore.

She wanted to attend the best school, make the most money, become the strongest version of herself.

She would pull every last hope away from these people. Then leave and never look back.

One let his heart freeze for too long, and it would never warm up again.

By the time that “I’m sorry” finally came—two lifetimes too late—she no longer knew how to forgive.

*********

Grace opened her eyes and saw the room she’d lived in when she was thirteen.

The pale blue wallpaper wasn’t peeling yet. Only a few middle school textbooks sat on the desk. The stuffed rabbit that had been her childhood companion hadn’t even started losing its fur.

Sunlight squeezed through the gap in the curtains, falling warm on the back of her hand—too warm, like it wasn’t real.

She sat up fast. Her heart pounded so hard it felt like it would jump out of her throat.

No. That wasn’t possible.

She remembered taking her last breath in that hospital corridor. The white lights blinding her. The sound of a nurse pushing a cart. Someone crying.

She was so tired. Too tired to even keep her eyes open. Her chest had been hollow for so many years, the pain finally stopping.

And then she was here.

Grace looked down at her hands. Small. Fair. Knobby little knuckles.

No calluses from years of grinding. No slightly crooked fingers from hunching over a desk. No ring—the one she’d bought for herself after saving every penny, the one she never even had time to take off.

Her eyes burned. Not from sadness. From the sheer, overwhelming absurdity of it all.

She was reborn.

Reborn on the day all the nightmares began.

Footsteps in the hallway. Hurried. Pushing warmth that wasn’t quite real.

Grace heard her mother Linda’s voice from down the hall, using a tone she’d dreamed of hearing in her past life. “Grace’s room is the one on the corner of the second floor. Best light. I had the walls repainted just for her. Your sister should love it.” (The room faced north. Freezing in winter.)

Sister.

The word dug into her temple, quiet and sharp.

She closed her eyes. Her past life came flooding back.

Chloe was the daughter of her father’s best friend. Both parents died in a car crash. No one else to take her in. So the Bennetts adopted her.

The day she arrived, Linda smiled brighter than Grace had ever seen. She took Chloe’s hand and said, “From now on, you’re a Bennett.” Her father Richard Bennett sat on the sofa, nodded, and gave one of his rare gentle smiles.

And Grace?

She remembered standing on the stairs in her favorite floral dress, running down to meet the new girl, only to be stopped by one look from her mother.

“Grace, don’t be loud. Chloe just got here. She needs quiet.”

She was only thirteen. She didn’t understand what favoritism meant yet. She only knew that from that day on, the warmth in the house dropped to freezing.

Her report cards stopped getting praise. Of course she came in first. They all took that for granted. But Chloe making the top ten? There should be a celebration.

Her birthday got forgotten because Chloe’s birthday fell in the same week, and the family was too busy planning a party for her.

She ran a fever of 103℉, and her mother said, “Just take some medicine in case you infect Chloe, she’s busy studying and can’t fall sick. . with your tutoring.” While Chloe sneezed once, the whole family panicked.

It took Grace fifteen years in her past life to learn that one lesson—in this family, she would always be the extra one.

She studied hard. She worked hard. She did everything she could to prove she was worth loving.

She got into a top university. Landed a job at a great company. Bought herself a small apartment in the center of city when she was twenty-eight.

She thought if she was good enough, her parents would finally see her.

Nope.

They never did.

When she was thirty, she got sick, and needed expensive surgery.

She called home. Linda answered. Before she could say anything, she heard Chloe in the background: “Mom, I’m pregnant. Can you keep me company to my ultrasound tomorrow?”

Linda laughed and said yes. Then into the phone: “Grace, what’s up? Chloe’s a little busy right now. Make it quick.”

Grace opened her mouth. Nothing came out. She hung up.

She died at thirty-two. Alone in a hospital bed.

No one visited. No one even called.

The nurse asked for her emergency contact. She said she didn’t have one.

The nurse gave her a pitying look. She smiled and said it was fine.

It really was. She was used to being alone.

The footsteps got closer. Grace heard Linda’s voice, clear now. “Chloe, this is your room. See if you like it.”

The door opened.

Linda walked in holding a girl’s hand. The girl wore a white dress, her hair in two braids, big eyes wide and shy.

Chloe was two years older than Grace. Fifteen. But she looked younger, probably from years of not eating well. Her family hadn’t been rich when her parents were alive.

“Chloe, this is your room.”

Linda’s voice was so soft. Softer than Grace had ever heard it aimed at her. “Look, there’s a garden outside. The roses are beautiful in spring.”

Chloe nodded, her eyes reddening. Her voice was barely a whisper. “Thank you, Ms. Bennett.”

“Don’t call me Ms. Bennett. Call me Mom.”

Linda knelt down and took Chloe’s hands. “From today on, you’re my daughter. This is your home. Okay?”

Grace stood in the doorway, quietly watching it all.

In her past life, she would have rushed in, grabbed Chloe’s hand and said, “Hi, I’m Grace.” She would have wanted to share her toys and snacks. Would have been secretly heartbroken for days over one cold look from her mother.

But this time, Grace just leaned against the doorframe, her face still.

Linda finally noticed her. She glanced up, her voice flat. “Grace, this is your older sister Chloe. She’ll be living with us now. Be nice to her.”

There’s no “this is your sister, be good to her.” And no “you’re both Mom’s girls.” Nothing.

In her past life, Grace hadn’t noticed those details. But now, with a thirty-one-year-old soul inside a thirteen-year-old body, she understood exactly what that difference meant.

Chloe looked at Grace timidly and gave a careful smile. “Hi, you must be Grace, right? Ms…. Mom told me about you.”

Grace looked at her. The girl who had taken all her family’s love in her past life. The girl who hadn’t actually done anything wrong.

Chloe really hadn’t done anything wrong. She just existed. She was just adorable. She just happened to be exactly the kind of daughter Richard and Linda wanted.

Sweet. Obedient. Cuddly. Needy.

Nothing like Grace, never cried or thrown tantrums, picked herself up when she fell, never bragged even when she got first place.

It wasn’t Chloe’s fault. It was hers.

She wasn’t cute enough, soft enough, adorable enough.

“Mm.”

Grace turned and walked away.

Linda frowned. “That kid. So rude.”

Grace heard it. She paused for a second, then kept walking.

Her room was on the first floor. The last one at the end of the hall. North-facing. Freezing in winter.

In her past life, she lived in that room for ten years. She never asked to switch. She knew it wouldn’t change anything.

One time, she tentatively said, “Mom, my room is really cold in winter.” Linda didn’t even look up. “Chloe’s room faces south, because she’s not healthy. She can’t handle the cold. You’ll just have to make do.”

Make do.

She made do her whole life.