Family Rebirth
My whole family got a do–over. A redo. A
second chance at life. Last time around, my
dad, mom, brother, and even my little genius
brother, all sided with the fake heiress. This
time, things are…different.
It started when Tiffany, the girl my parents
mistakenly believed was their daughter for
seventeen years, demanded a bigger room. Dad
gave her old one to me. Then she wanted extra
tutoring from Ethan, my whiz–kid brother.
Ethan, instead, started following me around,
begging to help me study. Tiffany wanted
Justin, my pop–star older brother, to come to
school and show her off. He came, alright, but
he sat with me at lunch. And when Tiffany
asked Mom for the diamond necklace she
designed, Mom clasped it around my neck.
“Ashley, how could you do this to your sister’s
room? This is just wrong!” Mom pointed at the
<
red paint splattered across the walls and the
word “DIE” scrawled across it.
Tiffany, fake tears welling up in her eyes,
sobbed, “Mom, don’t blame Ashley. It’s my fault for still being here. She’s your real daughter. No matter how nice I am to her, she’ll always resent me. She probably just…needed to vent. I’ll move out today. Pretend you never took me in. When I make my own money, I’ll come back and take care of you and Dad…”
She played the victim perfectly, grabbing her suitcase and pretending to pack. Mom rushed to comfort her.
From the living room, Ethan’s annoyed voice cut through the drama, “Send Ashley to the dorms. If she can’t handle that, get her an apartment. This place hasn’t been peaceful since she got here.”
My brother. Sticking up for me? Unheard of. He
<
then retreated back to his room, probably to
obliterate some noobs online.
Mom frowned, thought for a moment, and then
said wearily, “Ashley, maybe you should move
out for a while. There are a few nice condos
near the school that our company owns. I’ll have
someone take you to pick one out, fully
furnished, and you can take a housekeeper with
you.”
Tiffany shot me a triumphant look. She’d done
this before. The paint, the “DIE”
—
it was all her
doing. A setup to get me kicked out. She’d
been pulling stunts like this ever since I’d been
brought home six months ago. It wasn’t just at
home either. At school, Tiffany’s posse had
made my life hell, and no one cared.
Last time, I’d wasted all my energy fighting with
Tiffany, trying to win over my family, and failing
miserably. I’d bombed my SATs and ended up…
well, let’s just say it wasn’t pretty.
<
This time around, I was done trying. My dad
was a CEO, my mom a famous jewelry
designer, my brother a pop star, and my other
brother a genius. So what? I didn’t need them.
Mom, seeing my silence, softened her voice.
“You can go look at the apartments. If you don’t
like any, you can always come back-”
“I’ll move,” I cut her off.
She blinked, surprised. For the past six months,
I’d been desperately trying to fit in, never even
hinting at leaving, no matter how badly Tiffany
and I fought.
I ignored them, not bothering to explain. They wouldn’t believe Tiffany had done it anyway. I
went to my room and started packing the few
things I’d brought from the group home.
Dad walked in as I was packing. He was a
workaholic always traveling I’d harely seen him
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10:43
85
workaholic, always traveling. I’d barely seen him since I’d come home.
I remembered the last family dinner, during the Mid–Autumn Festival. Tiffany had sweetly called me “sister” in front of everyone, then shoved me into the pool when no one was looking. She’d jumped in after me, pretending to save me, but her screams were way louder than mine. Everyone rushed to pull her out, while I almost drowned the same day I was reunited with my family.
I’d been furious. Soaking wet, I’d pointed at Tiffany and told Dad she’d pushed me. Tiffany, of course, cried and played the victim, saying I was jealous and wanted her gone.
I’d thought Dad, being a CEO and all, would see through her act. Instead, he’d glared at me and told me to provide proof. He hadn’t wanted to hear another word, leaving Mom to “smooth things over.” Nothing happened to Tiffany.
く
85
After that, I’d stopped complaining. Even when
Tiffany’s minions cornered me in the bathroom,
stripped me, and poured pee on me, I hadn’t said a word to Dad.
Now, seeing him standing there, I braced myself for another lecture. I kept packing, avoiding eye
contact.
But Dad didn’t yell. He walked over and hugged me. Tight. His voice was choked with emotion. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, my daughter. Daddy’s so sorry…”
He was crying, his shoulders shaking. It was a complete 180 from his usual stoic, untouchable demeanor. Mom, Tiffany, and our housekeeper, Mrs. Davis, all rushed in, staring in disbelief.
Had he finally decided to act like a father
because I was leaving? Was this some belated guilt trip?
<
I pushed him away, picked up my bag, and
headed for the door.
“Ashley, where are you going?” Dad asked, his
voice still thick with emotion. He grabbed my
arm.
“I’m moving out.”
“I know, I know, sweetie. This house has made
you unhappy. I promise, with me here, no one
will ever hurt you again.”
Mom and Tiffany opened their mouths to speak,
but Mrs. Davis beat them to it. “Mr. Miller, you
should see Tiffany’s room. Ashley… she
covered the walls in red paint and wrote ‘DIE‘ all
over them…”
Dad frowned. I waited for the familiar lecture,
my heart tightening.
Instead, he stroked my hair gently. “This is
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Ashley’s home. Everything here is hers. A
painted wall is nothing. If she wants, she can
tear down this whole house, and I wouldn’t
care.”
Me: “…..?”
The other three had the same reaction.
Complete and utter shock.
Dad turned to Tiffany and Mom. His expression
hardened. “You were going to kick my daughter
out because of this?”