Chapter 2 A Second Chance

• As the anesthesia slowly wore off, pain radiated from Serena’s unstitched wound, drenching her in a cold sweat as fresh blood continued to seep out. She struggled to lie beside her baby, horror gripping her heart as she realized her child’s breathing was growing fainter.
• “Someone… please… someone help my baby! Shawn, this is your child—come save our child!”
• She called until her voice was raw, but no one answered.
• A cold numbness settled deep within Serena’s heart. She reached out to gently caress the baby’s delicate face. She didn’t even know if the baby was a boy or a girl. The skin was so soft and fragile that she feared her touch alone might hurt the child.
• But even as she clung to her last threads of hope, the faint sounds of her child’s breath faded, each one quieter than the last, until that little body turned cold in her arms.
• “Why… why…” Serena had never felt such despair or hatred in her life. She could accept not being stitched up because Lorelai’s surgery was urgent—she’d grown up without a family and had endured every harsh reality life had thrown at her. Her life held little value to anyone. She was no one’s precious person, so it made sense they wouldn’t bother saving her.
• But why her child? All it would have taken was one word from Shawn, just a single order, and the nurse would’ve placed her baby in the incubator, where they could’ve survived. But Shawn couldn’t even spare her that small kindness.
• Hate burned inside her, all-consuming.
• With every ounce of strength, Serena gathered her child in her arms. Blood loss had drained her, and blackness swam in her vision—she knew she didn’t have long left. At this point, even a miracle couldn’t save her.
• “Huh…” A bitter laugh escaped her lips as she gazed at the once-white sheets now stained red beneath her. Her bloodshot eyes and ghostly pale face gave her the look of a vengeful spirit rising from the depths of hell.
• As blood continued to flow from her abdomen, soaking into the sheets and dampening her clothes, she made a solemn vow with hate in her eyes. “Shawn Merrick, if there’s another life, I swear I’ll make you suffer the agony of losing what you love, of being torn from your own flesh and blood.”
• …
• Serena stood in front of a hotel washroom mirror, her fingers tracing the reflection’s face numbly.
• The face staring back at her was stunning, around twenty years old, with fair skin that held a sickly pallor, an elegant oval shape, and almond eyes with a dark, somber depth. She was gorgeous beyond words, though a shadow hung over her beauty. A flush of color from the alcohol she’d been drinking earlier gave her cheeks a warm, almost seductive glow.
• It had been two days, and she still struggled to adjust to this new face.
• She lowered her hand and splashed cold water on her face. With no makeup to worry about smudging, the icy water grounded her, helping her focus.
• No one would believe it, but somehow, she had been reborn.
• The Serena who died on that operating table now inhabited this young body. Serena’s lips curled in a cold, mocking smile—if she’d been granted a second life, she wouldn’t waste this chance. She would make Shawn pay.
• This new body’s name was also Serena Stone, and she was only 21. But her life had been no less complicated. A film student, she had been defiled at 16 and now had two four-year-old twins.
• She could still recall her first moments of consciousness in this body when two little ones had stood by her side. Silas, her son, had clung tightly to her hand, visibly relieved when she woke up. His lips had quivered like he was about to cry, but he’d held back, only his eyes reddening. His sister, Sylvie, had burst into loud sobs right then and there.
• Once she had absorbed most of this new body’s memories, she realized that these two little ones were her children. Thinking of the baby she’d lost on the operating table, she took them as Heaven’s way of giving her a second chance.
• Later, she had asked Silas why he had held back his tears. With a serious tone, he’d replied, “I’m a man, Mommy. I have to protect you. I can’t cry.”
• Thinking of her twins, a trace of gentleness softened Serena’s gaze.
• Just as she finished drying her face, an impatient voice called from outside the washroom.
• “Serena, are you done yet?”
• Serena smirked bitterly, running her fingers through the expensive curls she’d had styled that day, and stepped out of the washroom.
• The man waiting for her, visibly annoyed, relaxed a little once she emerged, though his gaze remained cold. “Serena, let me warn you. If you dare bail on me tonight, don’t expect any mercy.”
• Serena sneered. “Relax, Chuck. I’ll get the job done.”
• This middle-aged man, Chuck Stone, was her father in this life, though they shared no affection. Chuck ran a small renovation company, scraping by as business dwindled. It’d been months since he’d had any decent work, and he was facing bankruptcy.