Novels

"My world went black when I jumped in front of that car to save Mark. He swore he'd be my eyes, never leave my side. I dove into therapy, desperate to see again. The day the bandages came off, I practically flew home to tell him the good news. That's when I saw him. He was tangled in the sheets with his secretary, a blonde named Brittany, right there in our bed. They were making out like teenagers, all hands and moans. Mark, lost in the moment, kept whispering her name. ""Oh, Mark,"" Brittany gasped, ""why don't you just divorce the blind girl? I'm the one who gets you, the one you really love."" ""Give it time,"" he mumbled. ""I need time."" That night, snow fell thick and fast. I walked out of the house in just a sweater, a one-way ticket to Santa Fe burning a hole in my pocket. I was going back to the reservation, back to my roots. Mark would never find me there."

\"I'm meeting a friend for lunch.\"\n\"Which friend? Do I know them?\"\nShe asked casually while applying lipstick.\n\"Emma. You've met her.\"\n\"What?\"

\"Ahh—\"\nOlivia let out a piercing scream and clutched her own stomach, curling into a ball.\nBoth of us lay there on the cold floor, bleeding and broken.

"The night my boyfriend confessed, he cried his eyes out. He talked about seeing the future, about making a pact with me. I asked why. He just said, ""I don't remember, only that my future self will regret it, deeply regret it, Izzie. No matter what happens, you have to give me three chances, okay?"" Deeply in love with Lucas, I readily agreed. But later, he seemed to have forgotten all about it, canoodling with his assistant. That's when I understood. Because the moment I signed the divorce papers, I heard a familiar voice. It was nineteen-year-old Lucas. He was crying. ""Izzie, you promised, right? You promised to give me three chances."""

In my previous life, I saved my brother Jason from kidnappers but was taken myself. Fifteen years later, my birth parents found me. Yet I never enjoyed their love, constantly framed by the fake daughter. Jason always held the impostor's hand, looking at me with disdain: "Emily will always be my only sister."

My family is the wealthiest in the city, and I'm the designated heir. But my two brothers brought home a girl, saying we'd be sisters from now on, and even allowed her to impersonate me.

In the middle of the night, my girlfriend sent me a chilling message:

\"Ethan Sinclair, let's get divorced.\"\nAfter a long moment, I heard my own voice in the silence.\n\"Consider that slap your alimony payment to your ex-wife.\"\n[Cutoff point]\n

In my previous life, my sister was adopted by a wealthy family while I was taken in by janitors. The wealthy family was full of internal strife—distant parents and a bullying brother—leaving her eventually disinherited and penniless. My family, however, was harmonious, and the wealthy young master even fell in love with me, a poor innocent flower, like something straight out of a television drama. My sister killed me out of resentment, and we both returned to the day of our adoption. This time, she rushed into the janitor's arms first: "Sister, this time, I'll be the drama's leading lady." But she didn't understand that being the protagonist never depended on one's background.