Part 2The Sister They Threw Away

In my last life, Dad dragged me from one dingy apartment to another, always trying to outrun his creditors. There was no way for me to focus on school.

The collapse of his business and Mom’s departure had shattered him. He surrendered completely, hiding out in cheap rentals, drowning himself in bourbon, and letting the world fall apart around him. I was at the top of my class, but I couldn’t afford tuition. I had to take care of him, which meant dropping out to find work.

We came from the same womb, but Sophie had always been the lucky one. She was beautiful and knew exactly how to charm our parents. They both adored her. Plus, she was younger. You’re the older sister, Tessa, they’d always say. You should be mature. Let your sister have her way.

Even in divorce, she was the only one they wanted.

But in this life, her choice to stay with Dad gave him a rare moment of victory in front of Mom.

The second the car door closed, Mom started in on me.

“You were never the pretty one, Tessa, and you have a difficult personality. We’re going to live with Arthur now. For God’s sake, don’t embarrass me.”

It was almost funny. What kind of mother says that to her own daughter?

But it didn’t matter. The car glided through a set of ornate iron gates and into The Ridges, a neighborhood of sprawling mansions. I knew my stepfather from the previous life was rich, but I hadn’t realized he was this rich.

Arthur enrolled me in Northwood Prep, the best private academy in the city. A driver took me to and from school every day.

To make up for the education I’d lost in my past life, I poured everything I had into my studies. I was driven, and it paid off. Every year, I was in the top three of my class. My mother, who had previously ignored me, was suddenly eager to attend parent-teacher conferences. For her, it was a chance to be envied by the other parents and praised by the teachers for having such a brilliant daughter.

Since Arthur didn’t have any children of his own, my life in this house was, for the most part, peaceful and comfortable.

“Arthur,” I said one evening, “I’d like to study abroad.”

“Study abroad? Don’t be ridiculous,” my mother scoffed before Arthur could even respond. “Just because you get good grades doesn’t mean you can just do whatever you want.”

It was then I realized that sometimes, a person’s hatred for you doesn’t need a reason. Even if that person is your own mother.