Ever since we brought our six-year-old daughter, Elise, home, she's been keeping her distance.

My husband, Patrick Sheeter, chalked it up to "adjustment issues." Told me to bring her more gifts when I got back from my overseas trip.

I was halfway out the door when I heard her voice in my head.

'Should I tell Mom that Della always hits me?

'Dad says Mom hates tattletales. Especially me.

'But if I keep quiet, I might not make it till Mom gets back.'

My stomach flipped. I turned around. Elise was curled up in the corner, eyes glassy with tears.

Silent. But I still heard her.

'Maybe I lived again just to see Mom one more time.'

Patrick, noticing I was frozen, casually reminded me I was gonna miss my flight.

Right. Like that mattered.

I turned and slapped him so hard.

Screw the business trip. I was staying. Let's see who's got the guts to mess with my kid now.

Patrick clutched his cheek, eyes wide like he couldn't believe I actually hit him.

Yeah, I had a strong personality. But I'd never slapped anyone before.

Realizing I wasn't messing around, he mumbled something about work and bolted.

The second he left, Elise shrank behind a pillar.

'Mom really is as scary as Dad said.'

Ouch. That one stung.

The slap wasn't planned—it was pure panic. Elise had just said she might not make it till I got back. I wasn't thinking, just reacting.

Sure, I could be hot-headed, but violent? Never—until today.

So why the hell was Patrick telling her I was scary?

Elise had spent six years in an orphanage after the whole birth mix-up mess. When we finally brought her home, Patrick went full helicopter dad—he even made a checklist for how to act around her.

We'd been married forever. He always put up with my temper and usually took the lead with the kids.

He wouldn't badmouth me to Elise... right? She must've twisted something he said.

But seeing her curled up behind that pillar, all small and guarded, I just wanted to reach her.

I crouched and smiled. "I'm not working today. Wanna check out your new school with me?"

Her face lit up. She nodded like crazy.

I scooped her into my arms—and then I heard her again:

'Mom smells so nice. Her arms are so warm.

'Too bad the first time she held me in my last life, I was already dead. I couldn't feel the warmth.'

That one hit me straight in the chest.

If Elise was right, then in her last life, I was probably already on a plane by now.

Not this time. I was staying—and I was gonna find out exactly who thought it was okay to put hands on my kid.

I'd just helped Elise into her new outfit and ran upstairs to grab my bag.

That's when I heard it—Della, the girl we'd raised by mistake, shrieking at Elise. "You hick! Who said you could wear that?

"That dress is mine! I'm the only princess in this house!

"You piece of trash—this isn't your home, even if you're here!"

Then she lunged and yanked at Elise's clothes.

I bolted downstairs—and froze.

Della was on the floor, clutching a ripped piece of Elise's shirt, crying.

"Mom, I don't know why Elise hit me," she whined, arm stretched out.

Before I could say anything, Elise jumped in. "Mom, I didn't—"

"Yes, you did!" Della barked. "You said I stole your place for three years and told me to go die!"

Then she turned the waterworks up to max. "Mom, I'll leave and give Elise her spot back. Just please don't let me die. I'm scared I'll never see you again."

Elise opened her mouth... then clamped it shut.

'If I keep explaining, Mom will think I'm a bad kid who won't admit her mistakes.

'Last time, every time Della bullied me, Dad and my brothers took her side. They thought I was the one picking on her. Thought she only lied to cover it up.'

My chest twisted. Elise stood there, head down—already bracing herself to say sorry.

I stepped in front of Elise. "Della, I saw the whole thing. You were the one grabbing at her clothes. So why lie and say she bullied you?"

Della blinked—then launched into full meltdown mode. "You don't believe me, but you believe THAT kid?!

"You two are real mother and daughter, and I'm just some outsider! That's why you're ganging up on me!

"You PROMISED you'd still love me the same after she came back—liar!"

She ran upstairs bawling, then slammed her door.

I was fuming, but I forced myself to stay calm. Della had been the family's golden girl for three years—it made sense she couldn't handle the truth just yet.

She was still a kid. Jealousy? Expected. The nasty attitude? I tried to brush it off.

So I swallowed the anger, went upstairs, and raised my hand to knock—

But then I heard her through the door.

"That old hag's already picking favorites. I cried my heart out, and she still cared about 'the truth.'

"The truth is, that piece of trash should just die!

"Once that old hag's gone, I'll make sure Elise NEVER forgets who runs this house."

My hand froze midair.

I never imagined the girl I'd protected like my own could think like that.

Elise tugged at my sleeve just then, her little voice barely holding back tears. "Mom, I don't want to go to school anymore."

Then I heard it—her thoughts, raw and trembling:

'Della's so mad today. She's gonna beat me to death.

'I don't want to get locked up with her and the dog again.

'The dog bit me so hard—it ripped off my nose and ears.'

That was it.

I'd given Della the benefit of the doubt. I thought our years together meant something. I tried to be fair.

But she still acted like this was her castle, and Elise was just trash to toss around.

No more.

I called out, loud and sharp, "Maya! Take Della to the orphanage. Now."

Silence. Della's tantrum died instantly.

Maya, the maid, stared at me. "Ma'am, how can you be so unfair? Della's crying her eyes out and you're still being this harsh? People will talk.

"She's smart. She'll go places. Elise? She's timid, weak. Who knows what she'll turn into?"

I slapped her. Hard.

"Who the hell do you think you are? You think you can trash my daughter to my face? Either get Della out of here or pack YOUR bags."

Maya panicked. "Maybe we should wait for Mr. Sheeter. He's the head of the house. A woman can't just decide stuff like this."

I laughed—sharp, pissed off.

Patrick? The man's a just a husband living under my roof. This house? Everything in it? Mine.

And this maid, clinging to her outdated crap, thought she could lecture me?

I sneered. "Even if Patrick were here, he'd still follow MY orders. As for you? You're fired."

I called the butler right then and there. Maya barely had time to blink before she was out.

She raged about getting Patrick to "deal with me," but the bodyguards were already tossing her luggage onto the lawn.

Watching that door lock behind her? That was the moment I finally felt calm enough to grab Elise and walk out.

In the car, I looked at her. "If anyone bullies you, you tell me. I'll always protect you."

Tears welled in her eyes—then she broke into the softest smile and nodded.

Her thoughts hit me again:

'Why is Mom nothing like Dad said?

'Did he lie to me? Does she actually love me?

'But then why, in my last life, when I begged Dad to call her before I died... did he say she didn't want to see me?'

A chill cut through me.

Could Patrick really...?

The doubt twisted tighter the very next second.

At the school, Principal Susan Pringle told me Elise wasn't even on the enrollment list.

Which made no sense—I'd told Patrick loud and clear: the day Della and Elise started school, they were each getting ten percent of Everard Corp as a gift.

I asked, "Ms. Pringle, can you check again? Both girls were registered together."

Susan gave Elise a look like she was gum on her shoe. "Mr. Sheeter said he's giving TWENTY PERCENT of Everard Corp to Della for enrollment. And Elise? What is she, some illegitimate kid? No shares for her."

My temper snapped. "What did you just say? How DARE you call my daughter illegitimate? Who the hell do you think you are? They're MY shares—I'll give them to whoever the hell I want!"

Susan looked like she was about to clap back—but then suddenly switched gears, all sugary fake.

"Mr. Sheeter! What a surprise to see you here!"

I turned.

And yep. There he was.

Patrick.

Patrick ignored Susan and came straight to me, looking rattled. "Honey, what's going on at home? Why was Della crying so hard?"

I slapped him.

"Why didn't you enroll Elise?"

He froze for a beat, then scrambled for an excuse. "She just got back from the orphanage. I—I didn't think she'd handle school well. I was worried she'd get bullied."

"She's my only heir. She's inheriting everything. Who's gonna bully her? And even if they try, she'll learn to fight back. How else is she supposed to run Everard Corp?"

Patrick stiffened. "Wait... you're not giving the company to Della anymore? That's not fair! We have THREE sons. How can Elise be the only heir?"

I smirked. "This company's been run by women for generations. That's my family's legacy. Funny—you were fine when Della was getting it. But now that it's Elise, you've got a problem?

"And don't even start on favoritism—the principal just exposed you—you promised Della twenty percent of MY company."

Patrick turned to Susan, stunned.

Susan? Straight-up pointed at me. "A mistress should know her place! Acting like you run the world. You really think Mr. Sheeter can't live without you?"

Didn't even get a chance to respond—Patrick cut in, yelling, "What the hell are you saying? I CAN'T live without my wife!"

Susan finally clued in that she'd wrecked her own rep and went quiet.

Patrick turned back, laying it on thick. "Babe, I just felt bad for Della. She's surrounded by strangers. No one really loves her. I just wanted her to feel secure."

Then Elise's voice dropped into my mind again:

'Della's not unloved—she's still got her beautiful mom.

'Whenever the dog bit me, that woman laughed and said if I died, it'd break Mom. Then she'd finally have Dad and Della all to herself.

'She said Dad swapped me and Della on purpose.

'But if I told Mom, she'd probably think I was lying.'