chapter 4
The beginning of hell is always beautiful.
That was the truth my sister still didn’t understand.
At first, life with the actress mother looked glamorous from the outside.
Photoshoots. Luxury apartments. Viral clips of a dazzling child with impossible beauty.
People online called her the nation’s little angel.
But I knew better.
I remembered the private tutors.
The endless classes.
The screaming when I got one note wrong, one move wrong, one line wrong.
I remembered sleeping four hours a night while being trained in dance, acting, singing, etiquette, expression.
I remembered my ankle twisting during practice so badly I nearly lost the use of it, and her still livestreaming from the hospital for sympathy and exposure.
I remembered being told that if she made me into a star, my body, my image, my future all belonged to her.
I remembered that by eighteen, she had started teaching me how to please powerful men without making it look obvious.
That had been the real price of fame.
My sister had stolen my old life thinking it was a throne.
She had no idea it was a meat grinder in a velvet dress.
As for me, I grew up in comfort.
My father adored my mother to a degree that would have been embarrassing if it weren’t so sincere. If they wanted time alone, I’d happily disappear and go cling to Damian instead.
He liked that far more than he should have.
In the Carter house, he had once been practically invisible.
Then I made myself his little shadow.
If he went to the study, I followed.
If he went to the garden, I followed.
If thunder scared me, I carried my pillow into his room and demanded to sleep there.
At first, he was strict.
“You sleep on your side and behave. Understood?”
Then I’d blink at him, tear up, and throw myself into his arms.
He always lost.
By the end, he was patting my back until I fell asleep beside him.
Lying there in the dark, I sometimes felt a strange ache in my chest.
In my last life, he had really been pitiful.
Alone. Controlled. Loveless.
My sister had only seen him as a threat.
This time, I wanted him to have something else.
Someone else.
Big brother is so good to me, I would think sleepily. When I grow up, I’ll protect him too.
Once, his hand paused where it rested on my shoulder.
Then he laughed softly.
“Dummy. I’m the one who’s supposed to protect you.”
Time passed quickly after that.
By fifteen, I had become everything a rich family could possibly brag about.
Talented. Elegant. Smart. Beautiful. The kind of daughter who made every room turn when she walked in.
With my inner voice ability, I quietly helped the family avoid disaster again and again.
I nudged my father toward investments that made him even richer.
I warned my mother away from a so-called best friend who, in my last life, had tried to drug my father and wreck their marriage.
In this life, that scandal never happened.
The Carters only grew happier.
One day, my father looked at Damian and me and laughed.
“With the two of you here, I can retire in peace.”
I wrapped myself around Damian’s arm and said sweetly, “I don’t want to work. I want my brother to support me forever. I’m going to be a princess for life.”
Damian looked so moved by that ridiculous line it was honestly concerning.
He studied harder after that. Worked harder. Took on more.
As if making himself stronger was the only possible response to my joke.
Online, I occasionally saw updates about my sister.
She was growing into a stunning teenager. Her mother had named her Lily Hart. The entertainment world was already predicting that her beauty alone would carry her to the top.
Then, when I turned eighteen, we met again at my coming-of-age celebration.
She entered behind her mother in a formal gown, gorgeous enough to turn heads.
But the light in her eyes was gone.
Her smile was brittle.
Her shoulders looked tired.
She had been polished into something marketable.
And worn down in the process.
The second she saw my simple entrance look, she brightened.
She mistook quiet luxury for neglect.
Classic Lily.
“Claire,” she said, sweeping toward me, her chin lifting. “Looks like life in the Carter family hasn’t been so great after all. People say your parents always favored Damian and barely cared about you.”
Before I could answer, a cold voice cut through the air behind her.
“Who exactly are you calling barely cared for?”
Damian.
Lily went pale.
Last life’s memories still lived in her bones.
“Sorry,” she stammered. “I was just joking.”
He didn’t even spare her a full glance.
Instead, he pulled a velvet box from his pocket, opened it, and pinned a diamond brooch to my dress with unexpected tenderness.
“I made this for you,” he said quietly. “Happy birthday.”
Then he hesitated, like he wanted to hug me but didn’t know if he should.
I solved that problem by throwing my arms around him.
“Thank you, brother.”
His ears turned red immediately.
After he left to greet guests, Lily snapped.
She grabbed my arm and dragged me into a side room.
“This is impossible,” she hissed. “Why is he so good to you?”
I shook her off and smiled. “Because he’s my brother. Why? Is your actress mother not good to you?”
Right on cue, her mother’s sharp voice rang out behind her.
“Lily, what are you doing? Director Lee is here. Move.”
The actress pinched Lily hard at the waist while smiling at me like sugar over poison.
Lily’s face twisted, but she nodded obediently.
I almost laughed.
So that was how things stood now.
She had chosen my old path.
And it was already chewing her alive.