Chapter 2 – Return to the Past
668 Words
Darkness.
For a moment, there was nothing, no pain, no betrayal, no storm.
Just an endless void swallowing her whole.
And then, warmth.
She gasped, chest rising sharply as air filled her lungs.
Her eyes flew open.
Her trembling hands shot to her face. Smooth skin.
No cuts, no blood. Her body… whole.
Her breath caught in her throat.
“This, this isn’t possible.”
She sat up abruptly, her gaze darting across the room. Everything was the same.
the porcelain vase she had once broken in her youth, perfectly unbroken now.
The small writing desk, scattered with her old textbooks.
The mirror that reflected not the haggard woman who died, but the bright, unblemished face of her younger self.
Her pulse thundered in her ears.
This… this isn’t possible.” Her hands trembled as she touched her cheeks, her neck, her lips.
Everything was real. Alive. Young.
She staggered to the window.
The garden below was as she remembered from years ago ,
before her mother cut down the roses she once loved,
before her siblings claimed the estate as their own.
Her stomach churned. Was this a dream? A punishment? Or… a miracle?
The memories of her death slammed into her like knives .
the storm, the laughter of her enemies, the cold hand of death.
She pressed a palm to her chest, steadying the panic clawing at her.
No. This isn’t a dream. This is real.
“I’ve come back… years before it all happened.”
Her door creaked open.
“Miss, it’s time for breakfast,” came the soft, cheerful voice of her maid.
the same maid who, in her last life, had been dismissed before the betrayals began.
Her lips trembled. Tears threatened to fall, but this time they did not come from weakness.
She curled her fingers into fists, her heart hardening with icy resolve.
Her breath caught. Her parents.
The very people who had abandoned her.
The very people who had watched her die without a flicker of remorse
A second chance.
Slowly, her lips curved into a trembling smile.
soft on the surface, but sharp as a blade underneath.
When she entered the hall, the sight of them nearly unraveled her composure.
The dining hall smelled of freshly baked bread and polished wood, warm and comforting on the surface.
Her parents sat at the head of the table, exactly as they had always been:
her father stern and immovable, her mother poised and distant,
her siblings squabbling over trivialities like nothing had ever gone wrong.
Her chest tightened at the familiarity, but instead of panic, a ripple of excitement ran through her.
Years before they could betray me… before I was broken… this is my chance.
“Good morning, Father, Mother,” she said, voice soft and sweet, eyes lowered demurely.
Her fingers rested lightly on the edge of the table, posture perfect, obedient.
Her father grunted without looking at her. “Sit properly. Don’t slouch like a child.”
Her mother waved a hand dismissively. “Breakfast is ready.
Don’t waste my time with chatter.”
Her siblings snickered behind their napkins.
“Still acting all innocent, huh?” one whispered, smirking.
She smiled gently, nodding, eyes lowered.
Yes, I am innocent. But not for long.
As she poured herself a cup of tea, she watched them carefully:
the way her father’s jaw tensed when he was displeased,
the flicker of her mother’s impatience,
the petty rivalries between her siblings.
All of it was fodder now. Knowledge she had lacked before.
Inside, a cold, precise plan began to take shape.
Every smile, every soft word, every obedient nod was a thread weaving her web.
They thought they had the upper hand, but she was already three steps ahead.
Let them underestimate me. Let them laugh.
They’ll learn the truth soon enough.
Her lips curved into another perfect, sweet smile, and her eyes, hidden behind lowered lashes, gleamed with steel.
I’m back. And this time, nothing will stop me.
- Writer
