Chapter 1
My fiancé, Caleb, has a disabled sister named Mia.
A parasite in a wheelchair.
She wears an innocent face while systematically crushing my career, my dignity, my life—piece by piece.
And my promising military officer fiancé? He just holds me and says, “She’s my only sister. Cut her some slack.”
In my past life, I did.
In the end, the siblings drained me of everything I had, and I died alone.
Now, reborn, as I watch Mia once again “accidentally” ruin my interview dress, my heart turns to ash.
Right in front of her, I calmly log into the college application system, delete the local Texas university, and type in Seattle.
“Submit.”
Caleb, you can have your sister back.
My life? I’ll walk it myself.
The wine was the color of congealed blood.
It splashed across my cream-colored dress in a wide arc, spreading from chest to hem.
Mia sat in her wheelchair, still gripping the empty wine glass, her beautiful eyes brimming with tears.
“Sophia, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to…”
Her voice trembled, pitiful and fragile. “My hand… it just suddenly lost strength…”
I looked at her without saying a word.
In my past life, hearing that exact excuse, my first instinct had been to rush over, steady her, and frantically ask what was wrong—whether we needed to call a doctor.
The ruined dress, the destroyed opportunity—none of it mattered compared to her “condition.”
But now, I just watched.
Watched her carefully calculated performance.
And for one strange second, right before she lowered her eyes, I caught something that didn’t belong there.
Not triumph.
Not even panic.
Hesitation.
It flickered through her expression so fast I almost thought I imagined it.
My silence made the panic on her face freeze for a split second.
She hadn’t expected this.
Caleb burst out of his study at the noise.
He didn’t even glance at me—he went straight to Mia.
“Mia, what’s wrong? Are you feeling sick again?”
He crouched beside her, anxiously checking her hands.
Mia’s tears spilled instantly as she buried her face in his chest, her whole body trembling.
“Caleb… I ruined Sophia’s dress… she has an interview tomorrow… it’s all my fault…”
Only then did he look up and notice the stain across my chest.
His brow furrowed briefly, then relaxed.
“It’s okay, Sophia. Don’t be upset.” He stood up, his tone gentle as always. “I’ll take you shopping first thing tomorrow morning. It won’t affect anything.”
His eyes moved over me too quickly.
Not concern. Assessment.
As if he were already measuring how much disappointment I would swallow this time.
He thought that was enough.
Just like every time before—he would apologize for the chaos she caused, then throw a little money at it, as if that could erase everything.
And I was supposed to accept it. Gratefully. Gracefully.
Maybe even comfort Mia in return.
“Sophia, please don’t be mad at me, okay?” Mia peeked out from Caleb’s arms, her eyes wide and fearful.
The air itself seemed to press down on me.
Be understanding.
Be mature.
She didn’t mean it.
But my mind flashed back.
My past life—it was exactly like this.
That was the final interview for a top-tier internship.
I had spent three sleepless nights building a detailed architectural model, carefully placing it on the living room table.
Right before I left, Mia’s wheelchair “accidentally” hit the table.
The model shattered.
Caleb did the same thing then—ran to comfort his crying sister first.
Then he turned to me and said, “Sophia, it’s just an internship. There will be other opportunities. Mia is terrified.”
But later that night, when he thought I was asleep, I heard him in the kitchen speaking softly on the phone.
“Don’t call her again this week,” he said. “She’s under too much pressure already.”
At the time, I told myself he was helping.
Now I wondered who he had really been talking to.
Other opportunities.
My life had been devoured, piece by piece, by those endless “other opportunities.”
I missed that internship—the one chance that could have launched my career.
Later, I got pregnant, dropped out, and became trapped in that house.
And Caleb? He accepted all my sacrifices as if they were owed, while pouring all his energy into comforting his sister—who was always “getting into trouble.”
My compromises, my losses—they became expectations.
They used “love” and “family” as the softest knives, carving away my future one slice at a time.
Until I lay in a hospital bed, dying alone.
I didn’t lose to fate.
I lost to one sentence.
“She’s my only sister.”
“Sophia?”
Caleb’s voice pulled me back.
There was impatience in it now.
“It’s just a dress. I’ll replace it tomorrow. Mia’s not well—don’t upset her.”
I looked at him… and smiled.
I said nothing.
I turned and walked back to my room.
He probably thought I had calmed down, because he relaxed and turned back to his precious sister.
I opened my closet and took out a small box from the back.
Inside were all my receipts.
I pulled out the one for the five-hundred-dollar dress and walked back out.
In the living room, Caleb was gently wiping Mia’s tears.
Such a touching scene.
Disgusting.
I stepped in front of them.
Caleb looked up at me, a hint of reproach in his eyes—as if I were the unreasonable one.
I ignored him and held the receipt directly in front of his face.
He froze.
“What’s this?”
My voice was perfectly calm. Without a ripple.