Dad gave me a little shove. "Selena, this is Daniel. Greet him properly."

I stepped forward and sincerely reached for his hand to shake it, even giving him a little bow. In my last life, he was the only one who was willing to help me. "Hi, Mr. Quigley."

He looked surprised and helped me up. "Hey, no need to be so formal."

I straightened and met his deep, gentle eyes, smiling at him before getting into the car. Seeing Daniel settled the restlessness in my heart. He was loyal and unbelievably capable. He'd helped Dad with the inheritance and could've taken a portion for himself in return, but he'd given Dad everything.

In my past life, he'd tried hard to stop Dad from burning through the money. Dad had taken it as Daniel trying to boss him around because he'd seen more of the world. Camila didn't like him either and kept fanning the flames.

But when Dad's finances started collapsing, it was Daniel who had stepped in and helped, keeping Dad going for a while longer.

During the drive, Dad wouldn't shut up. "Daniel, come invest with me. The more we put in, the more we make. I'm telling you, I'm gonna turn this around!"

Daniel handed him deftly. He didn't agree, but he also didn't outright refuse and set Dad off.

We pulled up to Cloudside Villa, which was halfway up a hill. It looked grand from the outside, but the garden and hot spring were in shambles from neglect.

"Where are the household staff?" I asked.

Dad's gaze turned shifty. Daniel answered for him. "Your dad said it's not necessary to have that many staff, so he let them all go."

I fell silent.

Dad bristled. "It's just temporary. Once I make the money back, I'll hire better ones! What's that look supposed to mean?"

"Blake, Selena's just concerned." Daniel smoothed things over and took us to pick out our rooms.

He arranged one for me that faced south and looked out on the garden. Dad was pleased, but I stopped them. "Mr. Quigley, I'd like a different room."

Dad was already wound up and exploded. "How dare you be so picky? What's wrong with this room? Go stay with your mother if you don't like it! You think you're suffering after choosing me, don't you?"

He yelled at the top of his lungs. It wasn't really about scolding me—he was just venting his own unease.

I waited for him to finish, then explained calmly, "This room is too big. I'm… afraid of the cold."

He looked even more confused. "Cold? It's facing south, and it overlooks the garden. I swear you just don't know how to enjoy the good things in life!"

I looked at him, feeling my throat constrict. I couldn't say the real reason.

In my past life, my room at James' villa also faced the garden. He'd often used rose stems to whip me. Even now, the sight of flowers made me nauseous.

"Any room is fine. Even a staff room," I said.

Dad's face turned blotchy with rage. "A staff room? What are you playing at? Are you trying to make Daniel think I'm abusing you?"

I sighed. "Then what do you want?"

"What do I want?" He got angrier and yanked me downstairs. "I want you to stop looking at me like I'm a fool! Like you've got all the answers!"

"I don't! Wait!" He threw me into the fountain. The filthy water flooded my mouth and nose; I hacked and gasped.

He stared down at me coldly. "Are you lucid now?"

"Blake!" Daniel rushed over.

Dad shot him a vicious glare. "I'm disciplining my own daughter, so stay out of this! She's going to learn some manners today!"

Daniel ignored him. He hauled me out and wrapped me in his trench coat while I shook uncontrollably. He said firmly, "Selena can have my room. I'm hardly ever here, anyway. As for that south-facing room, you can take it since you like the garden so much, Blake."

Dad started to protest, but Daniel gave him a cool, leveling look and carried me off. His room was dry and warm, with a view of a distant church.

Before he left, he rubbed my head. "Take a hot shower and rest. I promise no one will disturb you tonight."

That night, there were no icy laughs or the rotten scent of roses. I finally slept well.

…

When I woke up the next day, I made a plan to find work. I headed out for interviews.

Dad was still asleep, but Daniel had gotten up even earlier than I had. He was in the garden, pulling out the rose bushes.

"Mr. Quigley?" I was surprised. "You don't like roses, either?"

"They're fine, but you don't seem to like them. There's no reason to keep them," he said evenly.

I hadn't mentioned the roses last night. Could it be that he'd been reborn, too?

But he didn't act like he knew me when seeing me this time. Maybe I was overthinking it.

I pushed down the suspicion and hurried out. Dad was already neck-deep in gambling. I had to earn money—we couldn't live off the dwindling leftovers.

I passed the interview at the burger joint and was bussing trays when I heard a familiar voice. "Well, well. If it isn't my dear little sister."

Camila stood there in a designer dress, her hand covering her mouth in mock shock. "Oh, my God. Didn't you inherit a hundred million dollars? How did you end up working in a place like this?"

Everyone in the restaurant turned to stare.

I calmly wiped a tray. "Are you ordering? If you're not, stop keeping me from my work."

Camila glanced at the menu with disgust. "I'm not eating this junk food."

She thrust out her wrist to show off a diamond bracelet. "See the life I live now? I'm like a bona fide princess, unlike you. You chose a useless dad who couldn't even hold on to a hundred million dollars."

She kept bragging, but I noticed the bruises on her wrist—they were clearly from shackles.

How pathetic. She'd hunted me down just to preen in front of me, hoping to squeeze a little superiority out of me like it was her painkiller.

"Are you done? If you are, please move." I couldn't be bothered to watch her performance.

Camila's expression darkened. "What's with that attitude? I'll file a complaint and have you fired right now!"

"Dear miss, I'm terribly sorry!" The manager rushed over, shooting me a hard glare. "She's new and doesn't know any better. Allow me to apologize on her behalf. Please don't be upset!"

He shoved me. "Why are you standing there? Apologize!"

I tightened my grip on the cloth. "…I'm sorry."

Only then did Camila let out a satisfied huff and strut off.

The manager snarled, "If you talk back to customers like that again, you're out of here!"

After my shift at the burger joint, I headed to a 24-hour convenience store. I hadn't eaten all day; my stomach ached with hunger. To earn a little more, I joined the unloading crew. The boxes made my arms tremble.

It was past midnight when I finally went home with a crumpled hundred dollars in my fist.

Daniel had already left. He didn't usually live here. I could only rely on myself.

Dad's room light was still on. I heard him anxiously shout, "The money's gone? Didn't you say this would definitely make money? How will I pay for my daughter's tuition if I can't get the money back? A gamble? W-What do I have left to gamble? This rundown old villa is all there is!"

My heart sank. We were done for. Dad must've blown the rest of the money and was now eyeing Cloudside Villa.

He heard my footsteps and yanked the door open to glare at me, reeking of alcohol. "Where the hell were you? Why are you back so late?"

I had no strength to talk. I just wanted to sleep.

Dad noticed the cash in my hand. His eyes lit up, and he lunged for it. "Where'd you get that? Give it to me!"

"No! It's mine!"

"You're my daughter—what's yours is mine!" He snatched the money and shoved me hard.

I slammed into the wall. Pain shot through me, making my vision go black.

"Selena?" Seeing me go pale sobered him a little. He stammered, "Are you… Are you okay?"

I took the opportunity to grab the cash, but he reflexively shielded it. "Consider it a loan to me, alright? Just this once! I can win it back, I swear! Do you have any more? The booze is gone… I want to stock up."

My head spun, and my stomach twisted. "No, I don't!"

He saw the state I was in and waved irritably. "Forget it. Go to bed."

I headed to my room and collapsed into sleep.

…

The next morning, before work, I rushed to open a bank account. My wages were our last fallback. I couldn't let Dad gamble them away.

But things were worse than I thought.

Just a week later, I dragged myself home after a long day to find an eviction notice taped to the door. Dad stood there dazedly with empty beer bottles scattered at his feet.

He saw me and pulled a grin uglier than a cry. "I'm sorry. I couldn't turn it around… I'm useless…"

My stomach and head hurt too much to curse him. I just felt exhausted. I turned to walk away.

"Selena, where are you going?" Dad staggered after me. "To find Daniel?"

I asked in return, "How much do you owe? Tell me the truth."

He mumbled, "A million…"

"The truth!"

"…Three million."

"Three million dollars." My throat was dry. "The debt collectors will tear us apart. And you want to go to Mr. Quigley? Do you want him to help you pay everything off, or do you want to get him beaten to death by the thugs?"

Dad fell silent and trailed me like a scolded child.

I led him into the subway station.

He pinched his nose in disgust. "Selena, why are we here?"

"To sleep." I sighed. "Look around. If we're lucky, we'll find an empty restroom stall."

He stared at me in disbelief. "We're… just gonna sleep here?"

I ignored him and slipped into a stall that was just clean enough. I sat against the wall, careful not to dirty my clothes. I would lose my part-time job if I looked too shabby tomorrow.

Halfway through the night, Dad couldn't stand the cold and shivered as he moved into the stall next to mine.

Later, someone pounded on the doors, shouting for us to get out. In my haze, I heard Dad's stifled sobs from the next stall.

I had no strength to comfort him. My stomach burned; my throat itched. I coughed up blood-tinged spit and forced it down again.

Amid the pain, I fell asleep again.

By morning, my whole body felt broken. I braced against the wall, forced myself up, and fussed with my wrinkled clothes.

My phone buzzed with a message from Camila. "I heard you two got evicted for debt. Poor things. Want me to help?"

I locked my phone and ignored Camila. As if she'd be that kind. Besides, all her money came from James, the creep. It felt dirty to me.

Camila spammed a bunch of photos of designer watches and bags. "Look, any one of these is worth more than your life. Mom hasn't even married James yet, and he's already this good to me. He buys me everything. Are you jealous? Too bad. You had your chance, yet you couldn't even choose the best."

An idiot reborn would still be an idiot. Camila didn't realize the only reason she was still living it up now was that James and Mom hadn't yet finalized their marriage. He didn't have her locked down yet.

In my past life, he'd walked into my bedroom the night he and Mom registered their marriage.

Before heading out, I knocked on the door of the restroom stall beside mine. "Dad, I'm going out. I paid the breakfast shop owner—don't forget to go eat."

"…Got it," he rasped.

At the burger joint, the owner looked me over, unhappy with how worn out I looked. "Selena, is something going on at home?"

I quickly denied it. "No. The semester is starting soon, and I'm nervous about enrolling. I didn't sleep well."

Plenty of kids worked over the summer to cover tuition. She nodded. "Stress is normal when you're young. I'll let it slide today, but you need to be in better shape tomorrow."

I exhaled in relief and continued wiping tables.

I didn't want to beg Camila for help or drag Daniel into this. Earning my own money was hard, but at least it kept my conscience clean. I just needed to find a new place fast, or survival would become an issue.

…

That night, after my shift at the convenience store, the manager handed me the day's leftover bread that was about to expire. "This is nearly out of date, and nobody's going to buy it at this hour. Take it home."

I took it gratefully, thinking that at least Dad and I had dinner settled. My stomach had been hurting more and more—maybe eating something would help.

I'd barely torn open the plastic when the store door slammed open. Camila charged in and pointed excitedly at the bread in my hands. "I'm buying that!"

I frowned. "How'd you find me? And you don't even like bread."

She stuck her nose in the air, smiling meanly. "I asked the lady at the burger joint. I may not like bread, but I can buy it to feed the dogs. But if you beg me, I'll let you eat it."

The manager looked torn, but a customer's request was the priority. He had no choice but to sell the bread to Camila.

She crushed the bread under her heels right in front of me, tossed the mess into the trash, and strutted out.

I had no choice but to pay for the cheapest sandwich.

Back at the subway station, I found that the restroom Dad and I had slept in last night was already taken.

He kept his head down, trying to hide the bruises from the fight over the restroom stalls. "Selena, it's okay. I've found us a new place. It's just a little cramped."

He led me past a few blocks and down into a storm drain entrance. The spots that didn't smell as bad were already occupied, so we kept going deeper.

"This… isn't too bad," I said, forcing down the nausea. "At least it's warm."

Dad rubbed his hands, embarrassed. He wanted to comfort me, but his stomach growled before he could speak.

I handed him the tiny sandwich. "You eat it. I already ate—I'm not hungry."

His eyes lit up. He grabbed it and devoured it.

That night, we huddled together for warmth with nothing but a few sheets of newspaper under us. I wanted to sleep, but my stomach hurt so much I couldn't.

In the second half of the night, the pain got unbearable. I struggled up to get some air. But the second I stood, a wave of dizziness made my vision go black.

My throat tickled; I started coughing violently. Warm liquid sprayed into my palm.

"Selena?" Dad jolted awake and sat up in a panic. "What's wrong?"

"I'm fine…" I didn't finish before another mouthful of blood came up.

In the moonlight, Dad saw the blood in my hand and went chalk white. "Blood… You're coughing blood!"

He scooped me into his arms, sounding terrified as he sprinted out of the drain toward the hospital. "I'm here, so don't be afraid. I'll sell my blood or a kidney to get you treated! I can't let anything happen to you!"

He cried, his arms shaking around me. It seemed he finally realized that if I died, he would truly have nothing left.