2
Just like in my previous life, the day after the Sinclairs brought me home, they hosted an extravagant party to introduce their newly adopted daughter.
She was now mingling effortlessly with the upper–class elites she had once dreamed of joining. Her smile was radiant, and she basked in the endless compliments from the guests.
She adored the attention.
This was the life she had fantasized about countless times.
Draped in a luxurious princess gown, she played the part perfectly, as if she had been born into this world of wealth and grandeur.
But what she didn’t see coming was what lay beyond the glitter and lights.
That night, after the last guest had left, the kind and gentle mother, Evelyn Sinclair, brought her upstairs to the piano room.
“Jenna, do you know what my life’s greatest dream is?”
Evelyn’s tone was warm, but her gaze was distant and commanding, just as it had been in my previous life.
“My greatest passion is playing the piano,” she continued, smiling down at my sister. “But due to winning an international award. It’s my one regret in life. Can you help Mommy fulfill her dream?”
an
accident, I never achieved my dream of
Evelyn’s shadow loomed over her, swallowing her whole.
My sister tilted her head, sensing something was off, but the achievements from my previous life were burned into her memory. She was desperate for that kind of glory.
She smiled confidently and nodded.
“Of course, Mom. Not only will I win international awards, but I’ll also do world tours. After all, I’m your daughter!”
Evelyn’s smile widened as she gently stroked her hair.
“I knew you were my good girl… my perfect daughter.”
Her unfocused gaze lingered on my sister.
But her words? They seemed meant for someone else entirely.
No one knew that beneath the Sinclair mansion, deep in the basement, there was a girl who had gone completely mad.
Meeting Again
The next time I saw my sister was years later, in high school.
By then, I had fully adjusted to my new life with the Whites. I had friends, a routine, and a peaceful existence.
Thad almost forgotten the suffocating dave of haing forced to play niano andlacely
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I had almost forgotten the suffocating days of being forced to play piano endlessly.
That is, until the day my sister transferred into my class.
I froze when I saw her.
“What’s wrong? You don’t look happy to
see me,” she said smugly, approaching me during the break.
I instinctively stepped back, putting some distance between us.
She didn’t seem to care. Instead, she looked me over from head to toe, clicking her tongue in mockery.
“Look at you–so pathetic. Don’t try to act like you’re related to me. Stay far away from me. I don’t want to be associated with someone like you. Got it?”
Her condescending tone didn’t bother me. My gaze dropped briefly to the faint red marks peeking out from under her sleeves before I looked
away.
“Got it. Don’t bother me, either.”
To me, studying was a dream come true–something I had been denied in my previous life.
Back then, Evelyn Sinclair would stroke my face with a loving smile and say,
“Our baby only needs to play piano. We can afford to support you for life. You don’t need to be like those poor
You’ll always be Mommy’s precious girl. Let’s skip school, okay?”
Her words, delivered with a sweet smile, were impossible to refuse.
And so, my right to an education was stripped away.
kids who study just to survive.
This time, I didn’t know what my sister had done to earn the right to attend school, but I cherished every moment I had there.
I consistently ranked in the top three of my class and threw myself into extracurricular activities.
In my previous life, my sister had envied my success, blinded by the reputation I built. She never understood that my achievements came at the cost of loneliness and suffocating control.
But in this life, my new parents noticed my social struggles early on and proactively took me to therapy.
I made progress.
I became the class representative for cultural events, earned the trust and admiration of my peers, and formed genuine friendships.
My sister, however, couldn’t stand any of it.
By her second day in our class, news of her identity as the Sinclair family’s heiress had spread.
For an entire semester, she was the center of attention, surrounded by admirers, constantly flaunting her status in front of me, hoping to provoke a reaction.
She wanted to see jealousy on my face–the same envy she had felt in our previous life.
But she never got what she wanted.
When she showed off her luxury pen set, I focused on solving math problems.
When she flaunted her new diamond hair clip, I was busy winning first place in a speech competition.
When I topped the grade rankings, she bought the entire class expensive desserts, ensuring everyone fawned over her for a day.
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2:48 PM
While she reveled in the shallow praise money could buy, I quietly cherished the freedom of living life on my own terms.
The Talent Show
We finally had to interact during the school’s annual talent show.
The event was a big deal, emphasizing the school’s commitment to well–rounded education. Months of preparation went into it every year.
My sister often bragged in class that she had a piano teacher who charged millions per hour and that she had performed in over a dozen
recitals.
She claimed that she only attended school because her parents didn’t want her to feel lonely at home.
I didn’t believe a word of it.
But based on popular opinion, I let her take the role of piano soloist for the show.
I was curious. In my previous life, Evelyn Sinclair had forbidden me from attending school and poured all her efforts into perfecting my piano
skills.
What had changed this time?
My sister eagerly accepted the role, confident in her abilities. She practiced constantly, surded by admirers. Even the school’s piano
teacher couldn’t stop praising her.
But to my ears, every missed note told a different story.
It became clear to me that this version of the Sinclairs was hiding something far more intriguing.
