How I Confront My Sister After Rebirth

My younger sister had sworn off marriage and children, but as we grew older, she envied me for having both a husband and son. Not only did she demand that I share my husband with her, but she even wanted my son to care for her in her old age.

I scolded her for being delusional and shameless. But she held a grudge, and in front of my son, she claimed that I had cut off his chance at inheriting a fortune. He believed her. With one strike, he killed me and then declared to the world that my sister was his real mother.

When I opened my eyes again, I returned to the day my sister refused to go on a blind date. This time, she happily agreed to it and even boasted to me that she planned to have many kids.

"Liz Stanton, this time, I'll be the one with a husband and kids."

But I had no intention of reliving the misery of marriage either.

The Life She Took From Me

"Wonderful! You finally agreed to the blind date, Colette! I'll go call Henry's mother right away!" My mom ran off excitedly to make the call, while my sister, Colette, sat across from me, watching with a smug look on her face.

"I'll be the one with a husband and kids this time, Liz."

At that moment, I knew my sister had returned to life too.

In our previous life, she had followed the trend of only dating but never marrying or having children. Because she refused the blind date, I had been pushed into it by my mother and hastily married Henry Collins.

I had been forced to resign from my job, left with only 2,000 dollars a month for living expenses. Every household cost came out of that meager allowance. My mother-in-law constantly berated me, accusing me of being wasteful and incapable of cooking a decent meal. The farthest I ever went was to a supermarket less than a mile from home; I couldn't even leave the house for half an hour without trouble.

The next time I saw my sister was at our mother's funeral. She looked well-kept, with no family or children weighing her down, appearing no different from a girl in her twenties. I, on the other hand, was worn out from years of drudgery—wrinkles and gray hair etched into my face.

When we stood side by side, some younger relatives who didn't know us even asked cheerfully when I'd had another daughter.

After the funeral, my sister used the excuse of being my only remaining family to move near my home. She came by every day to chat. My house was always noisy and chaotic—my children constantly quarreling over who I had to help with the babysitting—but in her eyes, it was living proof of a happy family.

She began deliberately making contact with Henry, and when I found out, she shamelessly declared that I should share him with her. She even wanted my son to take care of her in her old age.

I scolded her for being delusional and shameless. But she felt no shame—only pride. "Your husband was mine to begin with. Without me, you wouldn't even have your son. It's only right that he takes care of me."

Colette poisoned my son against me, telling him over and over that I'd refused her request only because I didn't want him to inherit her fortune. He believed her, and greedy for her money, he struck me down with a blade.

He announced to the world that my sister was his real mother and I was nothing but a human trafficker who had separated them.

I never forgot the pain of dying. This time around, if she wanted to taste the bitterness of marriage, she could have it. I wasn't going to suffer it again.