Rebirth: My Sister Stole My Rapist Husband Chapter 03

Rebirth: My Sister Stole My Rapist Husband Chapter 03 Flood Rescue
Once I arrived on campus, I headed straight to the student affairs office to sign up for the work-study program. On orientation day, I was assigned to help welcome new students. The sun hung overhead like a hammer. Running between the sports field and the academic building, my vision began to splinter into spots of light. My legs gave out, and I stumbled straight into someone’s chest. Whistles broke out around us. “Whoa, Finn, that’s the third girl throwing herself at you today!” I stumbled back and apologized quickly. When I lifted my head, my breath caught in my throat. It was Finn Vanderbilt. In my previous life, my parents had begged me to find out what really happened to Lila. The lawyer’s evidence told the story: Lila had chased Finn Vanderbilt—the only son of the real estate tycoon—relentlessly. When that failed, she tried to drug him. It backfired. Horribly. The Vanderbilts retaliated, pressuring the college to expel her. Her reputation in ruins, facing potential legal charges, she’d slunk home in utter disgrace. This time, I just needed to stay as far away from him as possible. Then I could graduate in peace. With that thought, I steadied myself, turned, and walked away without a single glance back. But laughter followed me. “No way! A girl actually avoiding Finn?” “Must be playing hard to get. Kinda refreshing.” He just snorted. “Boring.” At the opening ceremony, he stood on stage as the outstanding student representative. Every eye in the auditorium followed him. Mine did too—but I was watching a ghost. I knew how his story ended. Junior year. Poisoned by Lila’s failed trap. Sent abroad for treatment. And the plane… it never landed. In this life, if I stayed away, he’d live. – My life boiled down to just two things: studying and working. But somehow, I kept running into Finn Vanderbilt. Every time I passed the basketball court, a ball would roll to my feet—blocking me, always perfectly aimed. I’d look up to find him watching me, cold and unreadable, while his friends smirked and winked. My classmates whispered that Finn had been asking about me. Probably planning to teach me a lesson, they said. So I stopped walking that way. I took the longest route to class—the one that felt like hiding. I thought I’d successfully avoided him on campus, but I ran into his group while working part-time at a restaurant. When they saw me, his friends teased him playfully and insisted I be their server. They took forever ordering, leaving me standing there listening to their chatter. Before long, even the manager asked me if I’d made enemies of them. I shook my head helplessly and quit that same day. A few days later, they cornered me in the alley behind the library. Finn stood in the shadows, his expression dark. “You quit your job?” he asked. I pressed my lips together and said nothing. He stared at me for a long moment, then let out a cold laugh. “Clara, you don’t have to avoid me. I’m not interested in you. At all. You think I enjoy running into you? Please.” He turned and left. After that, I truly didn’t cross paths with him again. Not long afterward, my professor, Dr. Evans, told me about a scholarship for outstanding low-income students. My name was on the list. Full tuition. A monthly stipend. I blinked back tears. For the first time, I didn’t have to choose between hunger and work. I could pour everything I had into my studies. Then Dr. Evans mentioned that the sponsoring company was organizing a volunteer teaching trip. I signed up right away. I wanted to give back, to help others the way I’d been helped. But on the day of departure, I spotted him in the crowd. Finn stood tall and straight, his gaze flickering over me before he looked away. We didn’t speak for days. Then one night, my roommate Emma Chen, a senior, was chatting. She gushed about how charitable the Vanderbilt heir was—not only funding students but also showing up to teach in person. I froze the second she finished speaking. Before I could ask anything more, the ground shook violently. Screams exploded, “The flood is coming!” People scrambled and fled for higher ground. I ran with them. In the chaos, someone screamed Finn’s name. I shouldn’t have looked—but I did. I saw him push a little girl to safety. Then the current took him. Without a second thought, I turned and dove back in. I fought through the water, found him, and held on—my fingers numb, my lungs on fire. I didn’t let go. Not until the dark took me. When I woke up, I was in the hospital. The door opened. An elegantly dressed woman walked in and took my hand gently. It was Eleanor Vanderbilt, Finn’s mother. “You’re awake, sweetie,” she said softly. “Thank you! Thank you for saving my son! To show my gratitude, you can have anything you want—anything at all.” Instinctively, I curled my fingers slightly and shook my head. “I saved him to repay the Vanderbilts for sponsoring my scholarship.” After I spoke, the practiced politeness on her face cracked, and something softer took its place. “Finn is doing fine now. He’s been asking about you nonstop and wants to come see you. I’ll make sure he comes to thank you in person.” My chest tightened, and my first impulse was to refuse. But before I could speak, she turned and left. A moment later, Finn walked in.