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They adopted me to prolong Jessica’s life.
After struggling to conceive,they had Jessica,but she was frail from birth,diagnosed unlikely to survive past ten.
Global medical searches failed,so they turned to dark occult rituals.
A shaman said a person with a specific birth chart could suppress Jessica’s malevolent energy,healing her,but they couldn’t be apart too long,or the curse would return worse,risking death.
They scoured the country,finding me in the orphanage with the matching astrological chart.
From that moment on,Jessica and I were bound together.
Last life,ignorant of the truth,I was grateful,serving Mr.and Mrs.Harper at home and Jessica at school.
My devotion resulted in my tragic death at Claire.
With my insistence,I lived next to Jessica,not with her,postponing her recovery by six months.
At ten,the Harpers threw a grand birthday party for Jessica at the villa.
In a year,she transformed from a bedridden waif to a healthy and charming heiress,descending the spiral staircase in a custom gown.
Guests—family,friends,business partners—clapped lightly,welcoming the little princess.
Jessica,a proud peacock,sliced into the birthday cake amid thunderous applause.
“Mrs.Harper,congratulations!Jessica looks radiant.Her sickly days were heartbreaking.”
“She was too thin before,but now she’s clearly the very image of you—a stunning beauty.”
Adults congratulated Mr.and Mrs.Harper with praise,while kids played with Jessica.
I watched from the banquet hall’s edge.
Last life,the Harpers loudly announced my adoption.
This life,they kept it quiet.
Perhaps because I wasn’t as obedient,they had no patience to mold a rebellious orphan for their public image.
“Who’re you?Never seen you before.”
A boy,about ten,not fawning over Jessica,noticed me at the edge.
“I’m Harper Claire,the Harper’s foster daughter.You?”
“The Harper’s have a foster daughter?That’s news.Hi,Claire,I’m Ethan Wells.”
Later,I learned the Wells family was once the city’s richest,overtaken by the Harpers in recent decades,now second but still a titan.
After the party,a healthy Jessica started at the top private school.
Its academics weren’t the best,but its facilities were unmatched.
Like last life,I became her shadow student.
Two years younger,I studied in her class,struggling to keep up,branded a failure until my death.
The Harpers didn’t care about my studies—they just needed me as Jessica’s vital connection.
“Claire,stop studying.Bring me some water.”
Jessica,seeing me work,bossed me around.
“No.”I responded decisively.
Before she could respond,a classmate jumped in.
“Claire,you’re shameless.Without Jessica,you’d be struggling in the orphanage.Now you live in luxury,and you can’t even fetch water?Ungrateful.”
I didn’t look up.“First,orphanages don’t scavenge for food.Second,if the Harpers let me go,I’ll return now—I don’t care for luxury.Third,if I’m shameless,you’re worse,groveling like a lapdog.”
Ignoring their reactions,I put on earphones and studied.
Rich kids have social pecking order.In this school,Jessica was the top heiress,with plenty eager to curry favor.
To them,Jessica was a delicate,wealthy rose,while I was a foul,rough stone.
Fearing my“unwelcome presence”they avoided me,except when I accompanied Jessica to and from school.I was otherwise alone.
Perfect.
Last life,my weakness and Jessica’s hints fueled relentless bullying.
I’d buy water for the whole class,while they laughed from above as I sweated.
In winter,they locked me in the bathroom,dousing me with icy,dirty water.
Jessica never acted herself—just a sad glance or a lip curl,and classmates would torment me.
As kids grew,so did their malice.By high school,their bullying escalated:branding my back with curling irons,suffocating me with plastic bags,forcing me to eat garbage.
This life,I shed my timidity.I cursed back at taunts and swung chairs at bullies.The Harpers would clean up my messes.
Over time,they learned I wasn’t easy prey.No one dared escalate,sticking to verbal jabs.
