Reborn to the day I was dragged into the alley and shattered, the first thing I did was drag my bleeding body to the high school gym for the SATs. In my past life, a masked man pulled me into the shadows on my way to the exam. I didn’t just miss the test; I was left broken, forced to live with a colostomy bag for the rest of my life. When the whole town treated me like damaged goods, it was Brad—my childhood sweetheart, the boy next door—who stepped up. He married me against all odds. He even adopted a child, claiming he wanted to spare my broken body the trauma of birth. I was so grateful. I raised that boy like my own, tutoring him until he got into an Ivy League school. It wasn't until Brad’s "high school crush," Tiffany, returned from Europe for a welcome party that I heard the truth. "You dressed up as a mugger and violated her just so I could take her scholarship spot? Do you regret it?" Brad laughed, cold and sharp. "No. Your dad was under investigation by the Feds back then. You wouldn't have passed the background check for the scholarship. I had to ruin her to save our future." "Besides, I told her I was adopting a kid from foster care. Sarah still doesn't know she spent her life raising our biological son." I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I ran out the door, blinded by tears, and was struck dead by a speeding semi-truck. Then, I opened my eyes. I was back in the alley. Back in the dirt. 1. "Quit playing dead, bitch. You were loud enough a minute ago." "I’ve seen girls like you, strutting down Main Street asking for it. You better keep your mouth shut, or your life is over." The man in the ski mask was still on top of me. My mind, previously shattering into panic, suddenly snapped into razor-sharp focus. "Brad..." The man froze. A split second later, a heavy hand cracked across my face. Seeing I wouldn't scream again, he pulled his pants up and spat on the ground next to me. "Dammit. Bad luck." His reaction confirmed it. The source of all my misery was the man I thought was my savior. In my last life, I missed the exam. I became the town cripple. My parents were ashamed. The church gossip circles ate me alive. When I was ready to end it all, Brad saved me. He defied his parents to marry me. I couldn’t work, so he paid the bills. I couldn’t be intimate, so he slept in the guest room without complaint. I couldn’t have kids, so he said he was happy just being with me. When he brought home that baby boy, I poured my soul into him. I thought I was the luckiest woman alive. Until I heard him and Tiffany talking. It was Brad who assaulted me. Brad who crippled me. All so I would miss the SATs, leaving the town’s only guaranteed scholarship slot open for Tiffany. Even the son I loved was theirs. The shock killed me. But hate brought me back. I opened my eyes to the dark alley. Brad was gone. I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek until I tasted copper. The sharp pain cleared the fog. I dragged myself up, using the brick wall for support. I would not let those monsters steal my life again. I stumbled toward the high school. When I reached the steps of the gym, covered in blood and dirt, the crowd went silent. A few freshman girls screamed when they saw the trail of red I left on the concrete. Mr. Henderson, the proctor, dropped his clipboard. "Sarah? Good lord, what happened..." I slapped my admission ticket onto his chest, cutting him off. He looked at the name, then at the gym doors, confused. "Sarah Miller? But... didn't you just check in?" I took a deep breath, forcing my legs to stop shaking. "I am the real Sarah Miller. Get Sheriff Higgins. He’s working security today. He knows me." The crowd murmured. Mr. Henderson realized something was wrong. He sent a student runner. Minutes later, Sheriff Higgins burst out. "Sarah? My god, kid, look at you." I didn't waste time on tears. "Sheriff, someone is in there taking my test. They have an accomplice." I pointed to my torn clothes. "And I was assaulted to keep me away from here." The Sheriff’s face went hard. He turned to his deputies. "Lock down the exits. Find the impostor." He motioned for the paramedics, but I grabbed his arm. "Sheriff. I have to take this test." "Sarah, you’re bleeding..." "I can do it. If I die in there, that's on me." Sheriff Higgins looked into my eyes and saw something that scared him. He sighed. "Get her a private room. Get a medic to stand by the door." As they helped me inside, two deputies were dragging Tiffany out of the main hall. She was screaming like a banshee. "I am Sarah Miller! You can't do this! My father is on the City Council! I'll sue you all!" She thrashed, but then she saw me. She froze. Pure terror filled her eyes. "How are you here? You’re supposed to be..." She stopped herself. I didn't say a word. I just limped past her. Because of my condition, they didn't question me further. I sat down. My hands shook as I touched the test booklet—the paper I had missed in my last life. In my past life, to tutor my "son," I had solved these exact problems a thousand times. I had studied every question from this year's exam until I knew it better than the people who wrote it. I filled in the bubbles. My body was screaming in agony. I was bleeding into my shoes. But I didn't stop. This wasn't just a test. It was my exit ticket. The final bell rang. The moment the proctor took my sheet, the darkness finally took me. I passed out cold. I woke up to the smell of cheap tobacco. My dad was sitting in the corner, smoking up a storm. The room was hazy with it. My mom saw my eyes open. "Sarah! You're awake. I made you some soup." She reached for the bowl, but Dad slapped it out of her hand. It shattered on the floor. "She doesn't eat! What right does she have to eat? She disgraced this family!" "I should have drowned you at birth! dragging your dirty, used-up body to the school... now the whole town knows! How can I show my face at the hardware store?" "You’re damaged goods! I already talked to the Walker family. You're marrying Brad next week!" The words hit me harder than the assault. "I'm not marrying him." Dad was on me in a second, his fist connecting with my shoulder. "You don't get to choose! Who else wants a broken toy? Brad is a saint for taking you! You should be kissing his feet!" "If Brad hadn't offered, I would have kicked you out to starve!" Mom tried to step in, but one look from Dad sent her cowering to the corner. The punches hurt, but the betrayal hurt more. "Mr. Miller! I got the marriage license!" Brad’s voice came from the porch. Dad stopped hitting me instantly. He put on a fake, sickening smile. "Hey, Brad! Come on in." He took the paper, grinning through his yellow teeth. "Good, good. She's all yours, son." "Don't worry, sir. I've loved Sarah since kindergarten. I'll take care of her."
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