Emma's eyes lit up. She took my aunt's hand and cooed, "Thank you, Mama."

Hearing her call my aunt "Mama" made my stomach twist in disgust. I stole a glance at my mother—she had turned away, her heart breaking.

When my aunt led Emma off to handle the paperwork, she didn't forget to taunt me. "You have no idea what a golden opportunity you've just thrown away. No matter how hard you try, what can you achieve in this backwater town?"

I smirked inwardly. I understood perfectly why my aunt wanted me: I was prettier and more obedient than my sister, and once grown, I would be the perfect money tree she could shake at will.

Emma had gotten her wish and was going to Zandumore. For days, she strutted around, constantly mocking me.

"Ha! Harper, Harper! I'm about to change my destiny and become someone of importance, while you'll be stuck here forever, just an ordinary nobody."

I forced myself to suppress a flicker of glee and feigned innocence. "You're just going to some island country… how does that make you someone important?"

She sneered. "You idiot! I'm going to live in luxury, and besides…"

She leaned close, her breath tickling my ear. "Besides, I might even find a rich, handsome islander to be my husband."

After saying that, she looked at me like I was an ant beneath her heel, as if she were the one who had been handed a golden ticket.

I smiled faintly, my tone sweet and sincere. "Then I wish you get your heart's desires."

The paperwork was completed quickly. At the farewell, my mother clutched Emma's hand, her eyes glistening. "Make sure to stay in touch. Don't forget me, your real mother."

Emma yanked her hand away impatiently. "Ugh, I know! You're so annoying. Do you realize long-distance calls are expensive? Don't bother me unless it's important."

My mother's eyes turned red as she fell silent, and the pitiful expression on her face made my chest tighten with conflicting emotions.

In my previous life, I had no desire to go, but my mother couldn't bear to part with my sister. She had been eager to send me away. I had cried, begging her to let me stay.

And what had she said?

Oh, she counted the money my aunt had given her and said, "Once you go, don't come back. Just send me money from there, or I won't recognize you as my daughter."

Pathetic. Heartless, and in the eyes of the law, I truly wasn't her daughter anymore.

After sending my sister away, my heart leapt.

'My dear sister… ready to descend into hell?'

This life, I finally wouldn't have to endure the misery I had suffered before.

When I returned home, my mother sneered at me. "I don't see the point in your studies. Stop wasting time and start working. Eventually, you'll marry anyway."

I felt a deep, bitter chill. My mother had never liked me. When she was pregnant, everyone had said I looked like a boy. She had told anyone who would listen that she was carrying a son.

When I was born a girl, she rolled her eyes in disbelief, nearly fainting from frustration.

My father was a little disappointed but never hated me. My mother, however, had despised me from the moment I entered the world. She said I had killed the son who should have been born and that I must be a demon girl.

Emma had been ecstatic. She knew that if I had been born a boy, her status in the family would be threatened.

From a young age, Emma had followed our mother in tormenting me. I had tried to fight back, even telling my father, but all I got in return was a harsh beating.

When my father fell ill and died, my mother's cruelty grew unchecked. If it weren't for the government subsidies I brought in, she would have abandoned me without a second thought.

Emma hadn't been gone long before my mother couldn't wait to force me to quit school and work.

I refused. I knew, with absolute clarity, that knowledge could change my destiny.

So I played along, soothing my mother, convincing her I would work when I grew up, all the while studying harder than ever.

My homeroom teacher told me about a guaranteed admission spot—if I earned it, I could attend university tuition-free.

I knew this was my one shot, so I threw myself into my studies even more fiercely. Every night, I waited until my mother fell asleep, then secretly lit a candle to read.

Life was hard, yes, but compared to my past life, it was paradise.

Perhaps fate finally smiled on me: I earned the guaranteed admission. My teacher wanted to tell my family, but I shook my head, asking her to keep it a secret.

My mother, of course, tried to stop me from taking the exam. Thinking back, in my previous life, she had spent a fortune sending Emma to an expensive vocational college. Yet now, she refused to let me attend university.

It didn't matter anymore. I was leaving this suffocating place. Quietly, I went to the exam anyway.

By the time my mother grabbed her stick, searching the house, I was already on the train to university.

The fare had been given to me by my father's old friend, Howard Evans. I promised I'd repay him tenfold someday.

He waved me off, pity in his eyes. "You poor child… go. Don't come back."

University life was beautiful. I had to work part-time to make ends meet, and my meals and clothes could never compare to my classmates', but I was happy.

By now, Emma should have encountered my ex-husband, Axel Brixton. I imagined she would surely try to seduce him, thinking he could whisk her away.

How laughable. How could she think that man was worth it?

She had no idea that in my past life, I had only gone along with him to escape my aunt.

Axel seemed refined and handsome, but he was nothing more than an abusive, controlling man.

Emma thought my aunt would treat her like a beloved daughter, but that was never the plan. My aunt had married Zandumore man solely for a green card, using it to run illicit operations.

As soon as I arrived, I was forced to learn disgusting Zandumorian phrases to entertain men. That island man, my aunt's husband, was a pervert—he made me wear bunny ears and a maid outfit, dancing for him over and over.

Countless times, I had wanted to run, but I was alone in a foreign land, unable to speak the language, with nowhere to turn.

When I came of age, my aunt made me work in her shady operation, hosting one client after another.

That's when I truly understood despair. I lived like a broken doll under the neon glare of drunken, decadent nights—a life that felt more like a nightmare than reality.

Until Axel appeared. He spoke a little English and asked if I wanted to leave with him. I had no choice but to nod.

I thought life might finally improve. Instead, I fell from one abyss into another.

Axel had violent tendencies. After I went with him, the beatings began sporadically and eventually became daily.

When he was in a good mood, he had me learn Zandumorian with him. I endured everything, worked every job I could find, washed dishes, carried heavy loads, and countless nights I slept on the streets just to avoid his blows.

Eventually, I clawed my way back to some semblance of a life and found a way to return home.

Now, I couldn't help but wonder: How far could Emma possibly endure?