When I was four years old, I followed my parents on a charity trip to an impoverished mountain town, where I was nearly abducted by human traffickers. It was Harper who saved me. My parents offered to fund her education out of gratitude. She took the opportunity to play the victim, using that favor to guilt-trip her way into moving into our house. Consumed by jealousy, she eventually murdered me, poisoned my parents, and seized our mansion and all our wealth. My entire family died tragically, while she flaunted our stolen fortune to become a mega-influencer with tens of millions of followers. When I opened my eyes again, I was standing in Harper’s drafty, run-down stone house. Just before my parents could offer to sponsor her, I looked up timidly and asked: "Mommy, what does 'little bitch' mean?" 01 Hearing me curse, my mom’s face instantly dropped. "Who taught you to say that?" I innocently pointed a tiny finger at Harper’s mother. "That’s what this lady called me. She also took Grammy’s emerald necklace." Mrs. Jenkins’s face drained of color. Standing off to the side, a dark, scrawny Harper had been staring blankly into space this whole time. My dad was the first to react, his expression darkening as he reached for my mom’s purse. The emerald necklace was gone. My maternal grandmother had passed away last month, and that necklace was the only thing she had left for my mom. We had come to this rural town to do charity work precisely to fulfill my grandmother’s dying wish of donating part of her estate. In my previous life, we didn’t realize the necklace was missing until we got home. Because it was so valuable, my mom called the police. But the rural area was underdeveloped—there were no security cameras on the dirt roads, the villages were interconnected, and the population was dense and chaotic. There was simply no way to track it down. Mrs. Jenkins had cried to the heavens, accusing us of framing her. Her dramatic performance made everyone think she was innocent. It wasn't until after I died that I discovered the truth: Mrs. Jenkins, unable to extort more cash from Harper, had pawned the necklace to buy a house for her son's wedding. While I was lost in my memories, Mrs. Jenkins—now enraged—spat on the ground at our feet. She grabbed a rusted pitchfork and started driving us out: "Fake philanthropists! So what if we’re poor? Does being poor mean we have to steal from you? At the end of the day, you rich folks just look down on us!" "Get the hell out of my house, you little bitch!" Her banshee-like screeching drew a crowd of neighbors. It also jolted Harper out of her daze. Her eyes regained their focus. After a brief few seconds of shock, she pushed past her mother and ran out: "Mr. and Mrs. Hayes, my mom took the necklace! I’ll get it and give it back to you right now." "I really want to go to school. Please, for the sake of me saving Samantha yesterday, please help me." Hearing Harper’s words, Mrs. Jenkins’s features twisted into a grotesque mask of fury. "You ungrateful little wolf! Framing your own mother just to suck up to these rich people! I’ll beat you to death!" Mrs. Jenkins violently slammed the handle of the pitchfork into Harper’s back, over and over again. Several villagers tried to break up the fight, but she swung the pitchfork to ward them off. The entire village echoed with Harper’s agonizing screams. 02 Ultimately, my parents called the police. The cops arrived just in time to put an end to the circus. After Mrs. Jenkins was restrained, Harper, covered in bruises and limping, went into the back room. She brought out the emerald necklace. With the evidence secured, Mrs. Jenkins was arrested on the spot. My parents safely tucked the necklace away, but they didn’t breathe a single word about sponsoring Harper. When Mr. Jenkins returned from the fields with his hoe, my dad handed him a stack of cash as a token of gratitude for saving me. Seeing that we were about to leave, Harper looked at us in sheer disbelief and screamed, losing control: "Wait! That’s it?" My mom turned to look at her in confusion. My dad instinctively reached out, shielding me behind him. Harper looked shocked and appalled: "This isn't how it goes! You’re supposed to sponsor my education! If it weren’t for me, this dead bi—I mean, Samantha, would have been taken by the kidnappers." "Mom, Dad, you’re going to take me with you, right?" Her seemingly manic words confused everyone else, but I understood them perfectly. In my past life, to put up the facade of a wealthy heiress, she claimed my parents were like a second set of parents to her and simply started calling them "Mom" and "Dad." My mom corrected her a few times, but seeing she wouldn't change, eventually gave up. My dad just avoided her altogether. I really hadn’t expected Harper to be reborn too. Hearing her call them that, my parents’ faces turned pitch black. Mr. Jenkins's face contorted in rage. Cursing loudly, he slapped Harper hard upside the head. Harper’s eyes widened in fury as she tried to fight back, but Mr. Jenkins kicked her to the ground. My mom shielded my eyes and quickly carried me into our SUV. Meanwhile, Harper chased our car barefoot, crying and screaming. Until she couldn't keep up anymore. My dad pulled his gaze away from the rearview mirror, frowning. "Is that girl mentally unstable?" "With parents like that, it’d be a miracle if she turned out normal. Thank God we didn’t bring up the sponsorship right away, or that family would have stuck to us like leeches." My dad nodded in agreement. I slowly lowered my eyelashes. Harper didn't know that my parents valued my upbringing and environment above all else. After witnessing the true nature of her family, they would never let me associate with someone like her. 03 Before we left, the town mayor approached us. The village was desperately poor and isolated. There were too many kids who couldn’t afford school, and if they missed out on us, who knew when the next charitable donors would arrive. She handed my parents a roster. Every child on the list had a photo and their family’s background attached. She hoped my parents could selectively sponsor a child’s education, even if it was just one. After the fiasco at Harper’s house yesterday, my parents were actually quite hesitant. But faced with the mayor’s earnest, pleading eyes, they didn’t know how to refuse. I stood beside them, flipping through the roster, and spoke up as if by accident: "Mommy, Daddy, this boy helped save me the other day too." My parents turned their heads. Seeing the child I pointed to, the mayor’s face immediately lit up with joy: "Oh, that’s little Liam Carter. He’s just started third grade. He placed first in the whole district on the placement exams a few days ago." "His mom was the only college grad from our village. When his dad broke his legs on a construction site, she gave up her city job and came back to take care of him. They had Liam, and she’s been here ever since." After a brief discussion, my parents relented. They said we would visit Liam’s house tomorrow. I threw a childish tantrum, insisting we go thank the "big brother" in person right now. Unable to say no to me, my parents drove us there. In my past life, the person who actually saved me from the kidnapper was Liam. While Harper dragged me away to run, Liam had wrapped his arms tightly around the kidnapper’s waist, refusing to let go so the man couldn't chase us. I originally wanted to scream for someone to save Liam. But Harper told me the kidnapper was Liam’s relative. She claimed they staged the whole thing just to scam my parents out of money. I believed her. The next time I saw Liam was during my freshman year of college. He returned to our university as a distinguished alumnus giving a speech. Back then, the campus was full of legends about Liam Carter. They said he was the only true genius-slash-heartthrob in the history of our Ivy League school. He studied architecture and interior design, taking on freelance gigs to make money since his freshman year. Before he even graduated, he had offers from top Silicon Valley tech giants. After building his network and padding his resume at a major firm, he quickly quit to start his own business, becoming an industry titan. I never expected someone like him to confess his feelings to me. But at the time, because of the lies from our childhood, I publicly rejected him. It wasn't until Liam attended my funeral that I learned the truth. From Harper’s mocking, gloating words, I found out that on the day we ran away, Liam’s leg had been broken by the kidnapper, nearly leaving him permanently disabled. And that kidnapper was absolutely not his relative. My final memory before my rebirth was backstage at an influencer awards ceremony—where Liam violently drove a steel fountain pen straight into Harper’s forehead to avenge me. In my past life, he avenged me. This time, it’s my turn to protect him. 04 At the hospital, Liam’s parents welcomed us warmly. After understanding the situation, my parents immediately arranged for Liam to be transferred to a top-tier hospital in the city. They brought in orthopedic specialists for a joint consultation. Once it was confirmed that Liam’s leg would make a full recovery, his parents thanked mine with red, tear-filled eyes. By his hospital bed, I asked Liam: "Does it hurt?" Liam shook his head. I stared into his eyes. "Big brother, thank you for the other day. You have to get better quickly." "I will. What’s your name?" "Samantha." "I’m Liam Carter. Here, this is yours." He opened his palm. It was my hair clip. In my past life, after I rejected him, the hairpin he returned to me was this exact one. Back then, I had thrown it straight into the trash. Thinking about it now made me want to go back in time and slap myself. When I looked up at him again, my eyes curved into a sweet smile: "You keep it as a souvenir, big brother. You have to remember me. When I grow up, I’ll come find you." "Okay." Liam solemnly closed his fist around the clip. My parents officially chose to sponsor Liam’s education. I don't know if it was a side-effect of being reborn, but after returning home, I ran a high fever for a week. The moment my fever broke, we received devastating news about Liam’s family. 05 Liam’s parents were dead. Someone had laced their cooking pot with strychnine rat poison. Liam only survived because he was still living and eating at the hospital. The ones who poisoned them were Harper’s parents. They were consumed by jealousy that the Carter family had "stolen" their sponsorship spot. While Liam’s parents were at the hospital visiting him, Mr. Jenkins sneaked into their house and poisoned their food. After the Carter family died, Harper's parents actually stood on their fence watching the commotion like it had nothing to do with them. Liam was now an orphan. His relatives were mostly struggling financially and couldn't even fend for themselves; no one was willing to take him in. His schooling became a major issue. The village mayor called my parents to explain the tragedy and asked if they needed to pause the sponsorship. After discussing it, my parents decided to adopt Liam. When we arrived to pick Liam up, we could see a massive crowd of people gathered outside his hospital room from down the hall. Harper’s loud, weeping voice echoed from inside: "Liam, I’m begging you! Please sign the forgiveness letter for the judge." "If my parents go to prison, my life will be completely ruined!" I squeezed through the crowd. I saw Harper kneeling at Liam’s feet, aggressively kowtowing to him. Fury surged through me. I rushed forward and yanked her up by the collar. Smack! A sharp slap echoed across Harper’s face. Everyone was stunned. Harper snapped out of it and screamed: "What are you doing, Samantha?!" I was originally going to curse her out, but seeing my parents approaching, I swallowed the vicious words. Mimicking a child’s crisp, innocent tone, I said: "Big sister, your mommy and daddy murdered his mommy and daddy, and you're actually forcing him to forgive them! You're a bad person!" "Also, I don't think I ever told you my name. How do you know I’m Samantha?" Thanks to my reminder, my parents immediately caught on. My mom rushed over, picked me up, and gently comforted me. My dad stared at Harper with eyes full of suspicion and hostility: "Did you and your parents target our family from the start? Was that kidnapper hired by you?!" In my past life, because Harper always felt out of place in our home, my parents went out of their way to care for her—treating her even better than they treated me. Even if she made a small mistake, they never scolded her. Let alone look at her with such intense scrutiny. Harper was terrified and frantically tried to defend herself. "Mr. and Mrs. Hayes, that day was the first time we ever met! I didn't know you before, and I didn't know you were coming to the village." "I just heard you calling her 'Sammy' that day, and I knew you were Mr. Hayes, so I guessed her name was Samantha." "She hit me first just now! Look at my face!" She purposely turned her head, deliberately exposing her right cheek. But there were no finger marks on her face, not even a trace of redness. No matter how loud the slap sounded, it was still just the strength of a four-year-old. Feigning fear, I buried my face in my mom’s shoulder and started to cry softly. Furious, Harper ran out to the onlookers in the hallway. "Grandma, you tell them! Didn't Samantha hit me first?!" "Sir, you definitely saw it, hurry up and tell them!" But no one paid her any attention. Her voice grew increasingly hysterical. It wasn't until the village mayor arrived and dispersed the crowd that Harper finally went silent.
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