Chapter 2

Abigail's expression cracked for a full three seconds before it sealed itself back together.

Fast. So fast that if Elowen hadn't died once before and seen what Abigail really looked like, she would have noticed nothing at all.

Abigail became that frightened little rabbit again — eyes rimmed red, lips trembling slightly, her whole body curled into the corner of the sofa, fragile as a porcelain figure about to shatter.

Elowen stood there and turned it over in her mind.

Abigail had come back with memories of her past life. She knew every move Elowen had made, every weakness she had, every way out she might take.

Abigail thought she was the only one playing this game, thought the person across from her was just a fool stumbling around in the dark.

But Elowen had died too. She'd come back with her memories, too.

Abigail just didn't know that yet.

Good.

"Mom, Dad," Abigail spoke up, her voice soft as cotton, tears pooling in her eyes.

"It's my fault. Coming back has made things hard for my sister. I don't have to take that room. I've lived through hard times before. I don't mind."

The tears slid down her cheeks. Abigail leaned into Hazel's arms.

Hazel pulled her close with one arm and looked up at Elowen, her eyes already carrying a note of blame.

"Elowen, Abigail just got back. How could you act like this? She only wants to get along with you."

Vaughn followed with a low, firm voice. "Stop acting like a child. Abigail is your sister. You're family now."

Family.

Elowen turned the word over in her mind. It tasted like nothing.

In her past life, those words had hurt. Because she still believed this home was hers, still believed that if she tried hard enough, her parents would eventually put her back in their hearts.

She had waited for that "eventually" until it killed her.

"Abigail knew to go find her own birth parents," Elowen said, her voice calm. "So why can't I?"

Hazel opened her mouth, stumbled, and couldn't find a response.

Vaughn sighed and put on a look of patient concern.

"Do you know what your birth parents' situation is like?" Elowen said nothing, just watched him steadily.

"Your birth mother is disabled. She's been bedridden for years. Your birth father has a history of drug use — whether he's clean now, nobody knows. And you have a biological brother who got into a fight last year and injured someone. He just got out of prison." He paused. "You've lived in comfort your whole life. Could you really handle that kind of life?"

Hazel quickly added, "That's right, Elowen. It's not that I won't let you go. It's just that things are really bad over there."

She left the rest unsaid, but the meaning was plain enough.

Elowen listened to every word, then looked around the room.

Vaughn wore a look of concern on his face, but underneath it was something that looked like relief. Hazel was patting Abigail's back, her eyes never truly leaving Elowen's face.

And then there was Abigail.

Behind those red-rimmed eyes was a thin layer of satisfaction. Like someone watching a trap they'd carefully set about to snap shut, a quiet gloating she couldn't quite keep from rising to the surface.

Of course, she knew what Elowen's birth parents were like. So she stood here and waited — waited for Elowen to be scared off by these "facts," waited for her to shrink back into the Perez family and hand everything over without a fight.

In her past life, Elowen had backed down. She'd cried and begged and ground her own dignity into the dirt, and all she'd gotten for it was three more years of barely surviving.

"Abigail."

Elowen spoke suddenly, using her name directly — no "little sister," no pleasantries.

Abigail blinked.

"If your birth parents were poor," Elowen said, her voice as calm as if she were talking about the weather, "would you still have come back to find them?"

A brief silence.

For a fraction of a second, Abigail's expression went blank.

This wasn't something she'd prepared for. The question itself wasn't dangerous, but the way Elowen said it — it was like a needle, hitting exactly the spot she didn't want touched.

She recovered quickly. Her eyes went red again.

"How could you even ask that? No matter what my parents have or don't have, I'm still their daughter. I just want a family."

Hazel immediately stepped in, turning to Elowen with a cooler tone. "Elowen, stop trying to upset her."

"I was just asking," Elowen said, with a faint, almost puzzled lightness in her voice.

"She's so rattled. It almost seems like I hit on something."

Abigail's face flushed red.

She knew the Elowen from her past life — gentle, sensitive, quick to feel guilty. A little criticism was all it took to send her spiraling into self-doubt.

But this Elowen — the way she spoke, the way she looked at people, the way she simply stood there —

Something was wrong.

What was it?

Before she could figure it out, she heard Elowen turn to Vaughn and say, calmly, "I've made up my mind."

Vaughn was quiet for a moment. "If you leave, don't come back regretting it."

"I won't."

The answer came fast. Not a trace of hesitation.

However hard life might be, could it be harder than dying in an alley in a foreign country?

Vaughn finally sighed, took out his phone, and stepped aside. He came back about ten minutes later, his voice even. "I've arranged it. Someone will come pick you up this afternoon."

He took a card from his wallet, set it on the coffee table, and slid it toward Elowen.

"Five hundred thousand dollars. A final gesture from your mother and me. Once you walk out that door, you have no more ties to the Perez family."

Five hundred thousand dollars.

Eighteen years of being someone's daughter, reduced to a thin bank card left on a table — not even handed over, just pushed across.

Elowen looked at the card for two seconds, then picked it up.

She put it in her pocket, straightened up, and gave Vaughn and Hazel a deep bow.

"Thank you for the past eighteen years."

Her voice was flat. No tears. No trembling.

"Mr. Perez. Mrs. Perez."

Not Mom and Dad.

Hazel's expression stiffened. Her lips moved, but nothing came out. Vaughn turned his face away and didn't look at her.

Elowen stood up straight, turned toward the stairs, and walked away — back straight, steps steady.

Behind her, she heard Hazel's hushed voice. "Elowen is so stubborn."

Abigail said nothing.

She watched Elowen's back disappear around the bend of the staircase, then slowly looked away.

In her past life, it had taken her three full years to destroy Elowen.

But it was only the first day, and she could already feel it —

Something had changed.

The way Elowen spoke was wrong. The way she looked at people was wrong. The way she stood there was wrong.

The Elowen from her past life — no matter how angry she was, no matter how hurt — had always carried something in her eyes. A longing. To be accepted, to be loved, to be welcomed back into this family.

But the eyes she'd just seen held none of that.

Clear. Still. Like deep water with no visible bottom.

Abigail slowly curled her fingers into a fist.

Does she know something?