At her celebration party, Genevieve Prescott, the most dazzling socialite in Sterling Bay, publicly declared her love for me. I rejected her on the spot.

I was one of the elite candidates handpicked from across the country by the "Sterling Foundation," a program the Prescott family established to cultivate talent for their business empire.

A few days later, the final interview results were out. The winner would receive a full scholarship to an Ivy League school and become Genevieve's fiancé.

For three consecutive years, I had ranked first in the selection process.

In my previous life, I won. I got engaged to Genevieve and became the envy of all—the future son-in-law of Sterling Bay's most powerful family.

But on the day of our engagement, her childhood sweetheart, Julian Thorne, died in a racing accident. His car burst into flames, and he was burned beyond recognition.

Genevieve kept his ashes in an urn, clutching it to her chest as she slept.

On our honeymoon, she brought Julian's urn with her, cradling and kissing it right in front of me.

When I confronted her, she looked at me with pure disgust.

"Couldn't you have just let him win? Just once? You've been number one for twelve years. What would one loss have cost you? You ruined everything—his future, our love. You deserve to die."

She injected me with drugs, reducing me to a shell of a man, a drooling wreck with the mental capacity of a toddler.

I couldn't recognize my own parents. I couldn't control my own body. I died in agony.

...

And then, I opened my eyes. I was back on the morning of the final interview.

Last time, my score was one point higher than Julian's. This time, I would deliberately mess up in the interview. Let him win. Let him marry her.

I wished them a happily ever after. A match made in heaven, after all.

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1

The day the selection results were announced, the entire school was buzzing.

"Julian is the final winner!"

A collective sigh of disappointment rippled through the students around me. Everyone here was a prodigy with exceptional programming talent. But like me, we all came from poor backgrounds. Since the first grade, we had been scouted and sponsored by the "Sterling Foundation."

The program started with a hundred students, but the first round of eliminations after middle school narrowed the field to just forty of us—the top students from each state and champions of regional competitions. All of us were sent to Sterling Bay to spend three years at Sterling Bay High School, sponsored by the Prescott family.

"Even if I didn't stand a chance, I thought Nolan had it in the bag," someone whispered. "Did Julian pull some strings?"

"Maybe Genevieve helped him behind the scenes! They've been secretly dating since our freshman year. Otherwise, how could his interview score be so impossibly high compared to Nolan's?"

I glanced at my score. A flicker of doubt. Something was wrong.

In my past life, my total score was one point higher than Julian's. This time, I had only botched one question in the final interview, so my score should have been just slightly lower than his. Why was my score so abysmal? Had my rebirth somehow gone wrong?

The moment Genevieve saw Julian's results, she practically flew into his arms. "Julian, you can't get away from me now!"

Julian smiled smugly, wrapping an arm around Genevieve and parading her through the school. As they passed me, Genevieve shot me a cold, hostile glare.

A cold realization hit me. I wasn't the winner this time, so why the hostility?

Genevieve must have been reborn too. She must have pulled strings to tank my score. Playing it safe, she’d probably overdone it, never guessing that I'd also been reborn and had planned to fail anyway.

That's why my final score was so pathetic.

"Don't feel too bad, you losers who couldn't beat Julian!" Genevieve called out smugly, draped over Julian's shoulder. "My father will sponsor your college education and even provide start-up capital for your future careers!"

She looked at us as if we were a pack of stray dogs begging for scraps.

Before the shock could register, the principal seized my arm and dragged me into his office. He pulled down the blinds, turned off the surveillance cameras, and then slammed his fist into my face twice.

"What the hell were you thinking? You've been number one for twelve years, and you screw up at the most critical moment?" he roared, his face inches from mine.

Blood trickled from the corner of my mouth. I tasted iron. "Mr. Albright—"

"Do you have any idea there was a betting pool on your ranking? I bet a million dollars on you! You worthless brat! That was my entire life savings!" He hit me twice more.

He left me bruised and reeling. After he threw me out of his office, I collapsed in the hallway just in time to see Julian emerge triumphantly from the vice principal's office.

And the only person who’d bet correctly in this pool? The vice principal. Julian was the winner, and she had just made nearly a hundred million dollars.

I dragged my battered body home, only for my dad to start in on me.

"I already bragged to all the guys at the docks! Told them my son was the 'Sterling Foundation' champion! What the hell happened? You screwed up at the last second! How am I supposed to show my face now?"

"The principal had already given me the prize money in advance, and now I have to pay it back! I can't believe I'm cursed with a useless son like you!"

I froze. "Money? What money?"

My dad slammed a thick wad of cash on the table. "The principal knew you were a sure thing, so he fronted me the prize money! I thought you had it in the bag! I've already spent eighty thousand. How the hell am I going to pay that back?"

I collapsed to the floor. Not even a second life could have prepared me for this disaster.

In my last life, I was the winner. My dad was proud, the principal was supportive, and none of this ever came to light. This time, to save my own skin, I had to give up the victory, only to discover the principal's dirty dealings.

As for the eighty thousand? My dad had, of course, used it to pay off his gambling debts.

A bitter smile twisted my lips. So this was it. I was paying for my father's debts.

"Dad, Roxanne Valerius has always admired me. You know you angered her family by refusing to quit your job at the docks. Maybe if I go to her and ask for a favor, she'll give you the backing to start your own shipping company."

My dad's expression softened. "Well, if you can't marry a high-society princess, a mafia princess will do."

I spent the night tending to my wounds, carefully dabbing ointment on each bruise until my face looked presentable again.

The next morning, I took the score report to the psychiatric hospital.

My mother had been living there for ten years, committed after my father, in a drunken rage, beat her so badly she lost her mind. Now, I was the only person she recognized.

After my mother's breakdown left the family without her support, my dad forced me into this program, designed to groom a husband for Sterling Bay's heiress, Genevieve.

"Mom, I'm here. I know you're disappointed I didn't win, but I really had no choice..."

She sat on the bed, clutching a delicate music box. It was a gift Genevieve had given me back in middle school.

My mother caressed it gently, murmuring with a dreamy smile, "Lily, look who's here. Say hello to Nolan."

Lily was the sister I never met. Ten years ago, my father's fists had not only shattered my mother's mind but had also caused her to miscarry.

From that moment on, everything had been broken.

My eyes stung as I thought about how powerless we were, our lives toyed with by the Prescotts as if we were nothing more than weeds to be trampled underfoot.

Just then, a loud, mocking voice broke the silence. "Well, if it isn't Nolan. What are you doing here? Reserving a room for yourself in the nuthouse?"

Julian's voice dripped with mock surprise. "Well, look at you, actually going through with the final interview. How inspiring. For a second there, you were almost my equal."

They were both wearing volunteer vests, probably here for some charity project to earn extra credit for their college applications.

Genevieve wrinkled her nose at me and said to him, loud enough for the whole ward to hear, "Don't be scared, Julian. I'm here. He's not the crazy one; his mom is. She's been insane for ten years."

Their mocking voices cut through the air like glass. My mom flinched. Then, as if to protect the music box, she clutched it to her chest and tucked it under the hem of her shirt. "Don't be scared, Lily. I'm here."

I rushed forward, gently taking the music box from her and straightening her clothes with trembling hands. A film of tears clouded my vision, but I forced myself to stay calm.

Genevieve pursed her lips. "A whole family of psychos."

Her gaze fell on the music box in my hand. She pinched her nose in disgust. "Nolan, that thing looks like some piece of junk from the last century. Why do you still have it? God, you're pathetic. It's disgusting."

Disgusting? This music box had once been her favorite, too.

Unlike the other candidates, I was the only one actually born in Sterling Bay. During summer breaks, I was assigned to be Genevieve's programming partner and playmate.

Once, when we were just kids, she had handed me this music box and giggled, "Nolan, this is our baby."

The adults had laughed, but I had held that music box like a treasure.

Now, to prevent my mother from having another episode, I clutched it tightly and said softly, "I'm sorry, Miss Prescott. My mother's behavior startled Julian. She's not well. Please forgive us."

Before I could finish, my mother's voice rose behind me, sharp and trembling. "Nolan! Who's bullying you? I'll beat them up!"

Julian clutched his chest dramatically and squatted down. "Nolan, what are you doing?" he wheezed weakly. "Just because I beat you, you're siccing your crazy mom on me?" His voice cracked as if he was about to cry.

Genevieve was overcome with pity. She hugged Julian tightly, cooing at him. "Julian, are you okay? Don't worry. I'll take care of this crazy family for you!"

Once he caught his breath, she stood up and slapped me twice, hard, across the face.

Genevieve warned, "Get your crazy mother under control. If she ever dares to touch Julian again, I'll make you both regret the day you were born."

My mother shrieked back, "I'm not the one who's going to die—you are!"

Shaking with rage, Genevieve snatched the music box from me and said coldly, "Mrs. Shaw, that's not Lily. It's a broken old toy from my childhood. Lily is gone, gone when you were pregnant. Stop living in a fantasy."

Then, as if her words weren't cruel enough, she raised the music box high and smashed it onto the floor. Over my mother's heart-wrenching screams, Genevieve stomped on it with the heel of her stiletto until it was a pile of splintered wood and parts.

"She's dead! Do you hear me? Dead!"

My mother stared blankly at the pile of debris, her face a mask of emptiness, before collapsing to the floor. Uncontrollable sobs wracked her body with tremors. With trembling fingers, she tried to piece the torn fragments together, murmuring, "My Lily… Oh, my Lily…"

I held her tightly, terrified she would hurt herself, my own heart hammering with a mix of rage, grief, and helplessness.

When I finally looked up, my eyes met Genevieve's. My voice was cold and steady. "Genevieve, you won't have to worry about seeing me again. I'm leaving the country soon."

Genevieve stared at me in disbelief, then let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "You? Study abroad? Your dad's a drunk and your mom's insane. Where would you get the money? In your dreams?"

"This isn't a dream," I said calmly. "Your life with Julian is about to begin, and my twelve years in your shadow are over. I don't need the Prescott family's money. And you have no right to question my future."

For the first time, a flicker of panic broke through Genevieve's icy composure. She pointed a finger at my mom, her voice sharp and vicious. "Even if you manage to work your way through college abroad, what about your mother? Who's going to take care of her? Are you just going to dump her in some institution to rot? As far as I know, your father won't lift a finger."

"That's none of your business," I answered coldly.

She stepped up to me, her slender fingers gripping my chin. Her beautiful eyes were sharp and cold, like a viper ready to strike. "Do you really think you can just leave Sterling Bay whenever you want? Do you think you can escape my grasp?"

"In a few days, Julian and I are throwing a party to celebrate the start of our college lives. You will be there."

Before I could respond, my mother screamed again.

She had gathered all the pieces of the music box from the floor and thrust the bundle into my arms. "Nolan, my good boy, your sister is hurt. Please save her, I'm begging you!"

My throat burned, and tears blurred my vision. I took the pieces from her trembling hands. "Mom, Lily is sick. I'll take her to a doctor."

Then I turned to Genevieve, glaring at her with all the fury I had left. "I've already called a nurse. This room has cameras. Don't you dare touch my mother again."

I had never raised my voice to her before. This time, she looked startled. She bit her lip, a flicker of something unreadable, like hurt, crossing her face before she looked away.

I borrowed glue and tools from the nurse and sat in the hallway, clumsily piecing the music box back together.

When I finally carried it toward my mother's room and pushed open the door, my heart seized.

Genevieve and Julian were on the companion bed, a tangled mess of skin and limbs, their breaths mingling as they crossed every line imaginable.

And my mother was perched on the third-floor balcony railing, her body teetering, ready to fall at any moment.

The two of them, lost in their pleasure, hadn't even noticed the woman on the brink of death behind them.

I wanted to run and pull her back, but I was terrified a sudden movement would startle her into jumping. I froze at the door, barely daring to breathe.

Then, just as Genevieve and Julian climaxed, their intertwined moans filled the room, and the sound was just enough to shatter the last, fragile thread of my mother's sanity.

In truth, her madness hadn't started when Lily died. It had started long before, when my father had his affair.

I was just a child, not yet in elementary school, when he brought another woman into our home. He flaunted his affair right in front of my mother, just as Julian and Genevieve were doing now.

My mother's eyes turned bloodshot. She screamed, "Frank! I hate you!"

Then she jumped.

It all happened so fast I didn't even have time to scream. It felt as if my heart had been ripped straight from my chest.

My hands shaking violently, I dialed 911 and called for the hospital staff until my voice was hoarse.

Genevieve and Julian froze, pale and trembling, scrambling to cover themselves as nurses and orderlies rushed in and out.

I ran downstairs and saw my mom was still breathing. I knelt beside her, sobbing. "Mom, please! Hold on! Don't go! I can't lose you!"

The ambulance arrived. They put her on a stretcher and took her away. I collapsed onto the cold pavement, gasping for air.

Then I saw a pair of designer heels stop in front of me—Genevieve's.

"A three-story fall won't kill her," she said, her voice dripping with contempt. "Stop the theatrics. I saw her breathing."

Something inside me snapped. I looked up at her, my voice a raw roar. "Get out! I never want to see you again!"

For a moment, her face twisted in anger, but she quickly masked it with her usual, cruel composure. She took Julian's arm, glanced back at me, and said coldly, "You'll pay for this, Nolan. One day, you'll come crawling to me, begging for my forgiveness."