Reborn Beyond Their Remorse

After my rebirth, I avoided my family and my boyfriend like the plague.

When they tried to throw me a birthday party, I faked an urgent business trip to dodge it.

When my parents pleaded with me to move back, I secretly bought my own house that very night.

When my boyfriend popped the question, I spun on my heel and married someone else.

In my previous life, my sister and I were swept away in a raging flood. By sheer luck, a jagged tree branch snagged my clothes, saving me from the depths, but my sister drowned in the merciless current.

My parents, consumed by grief and rage, gripped my throat and screamed, "If it weren't for you, Andrea would still be alive!"

My boyfriend acted like it was no big deal, offering half-hearted comfort before we tied the knot.

But on our wedding anniversary, during a family cruise, they cornered me on the deck and shoved me overboard.

"Time to taste drowning yourself!" they hissed.

It turned out they had never gotten over Andrea's death.

My boyfriend had never forgotten about her.

When my eyes fluttered open again, I found myself back on that fateful day.

This time, I vowed to live for myself, reclaiming the joy they'd stolen from me.

A scalding drop of wax splattered onto the back of my hand, causing me to yelp in pain.

My parents turned their heads, their eyes brimming with undisguised disgust.

"Why are you so clumsy all the time?" barked my dad.

I remained silent, but inside, I was bubbling with excitement.

That was because I had been reborn, flung back to my birthday.

In Doreraford, everyone had heard about Andrea Jordan, the delicate darling of the city.

Few were aware she had an older sister.

From a young age, she had been sickly, which garnered our parents' boundless love and attention, leaving me to fade into her shadow.

We were seated in the opulent private room of an upscale restaurant.

My dad, Brent Jordan, waved off the waiter and jerked his chin toward me. "She can handle it."

My mom, Fiona Jordan, offered a rehearsed smile. "We don't need outsiders at our family dinner."

The waiter shot me a puzzled, pitying look before slipping out.

I calmly rose from my seat, refilling their cups and serving the appetizers.

In their minds, I might as well have been the hired help, invisible until needed.

Andrea blinked, innocently tilting her head. "Claudia, would you sing a birthday song? You've always had such a killer voice."

As a child, I had shown a natural talent for singing, but our family's limited finances were redirected to fund Andrea's painting lessons, leaving my passion neglected.

Fiona lit up at the idea, clapping her hands together. "Good idea! It's your birthday, too. Let's make it a double celebration."

My faint smile masked a bitter pang. They'd conveniently forgotten that my actual birthday was a week earlier.

Years ago, Andrea had suggested merging our birthdays