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.

In my haze, I heard Dad making a call. His voice broke as he cried, "Daniel, please… Selena's going to die…"

Then, I blacked out completely.

When I came to, I found myself in a hospital room with an IV in my hand. I tried to sit up, but a warm hand gently pressed my shoulder. "Don't move."

I turned to see Daniel sitting by the bed, his face dark with anger. "Mr. Quigley? How are you…"

"I flew back last night," he cut me off, his jaw tight with restrained fury. "I've been overseas on business. If your dad hadn't called me, how long were you planning to keep this from me? You're still so young. Why didn't you reach out? Were you trying to kill yourself?"

He had never spoken to me so harshly before.

I faltered. "I just didn't want to drag you into this mess… Um, where's Dad?"

"Your problems are never a burden!" he snapped. Then, he took a deep breath to steady himself. "He went out to get food."

Daniel told me I was in bad condition. I had stomach ulcers compounded by long-term nutrition. If I kept ignoring it, it could turn cancerous.

"Come with me, Selena." He looked at me. "Let me take care of you. We'll get you healthy."

The door flew open, and Dad rushed in, a takeout container in his hands. He planted himself by my bedside, his eyes red with agitation. "No one is taking my daughter away from me! I'll change this time, I swear! No more gambling, and I'll quit drinking, too!"

Daniel didn't look at him. He merely asked me, "Selena, do you trust him?"

I took in Dad's remorseful face and smiled. "I do."

Daniel's gaze flickered with a mix of emotions I couldn't read. Then, he nodded. "Fine. I'll help him one last time for your sake."

He meant it. He gave Dad seed money, guided him into setting up a legitimate business, and personally showed him the ropes.

This time, Dad worked like a man possessed. He quit drinking and gambling, and he earned enough to pay my hospital bills.

A month later, a new semester at college started, and I was discharged. Dad rented a place in a safe neighborhood, paid my tuition in full, and even bought me a pretty cocktail dress.

"There's a freshman welcome dance," he said, looking at me awkwardly yet hopefully. "My daughter should look her best."

My heart softened, and I hugged him. "Thanks, Dad."

Half a year passed, and he was a different man. He stayed low-key even after making money; he no longer splurged on unnecessary things.

Right before Christmas, he cleared all the debt he'd accumulated and even got back Cloudside Villa.

We celebrated Christmas there with Daniel. A feast was laid out.

Dad raised his glass to me. "Thank you, Selena, for giving me a new life."

I lifted mine, too. For a moment, my mind slipped. In my past life, I'd died on Christmas. This time, everything had changed.

…

The next day, Anne Moore, the daughter of Dad's business partner, called to invite us to a gala.

When we arrived that night, Dad and Daniel were ushered off to talk shop. Anne personally got me a cocktail. I strolled toward the dessert table and picked up a small slice of cake. Just then, a shriek split the air behind me.

"Selena!"

I turned to see Camila's gaunt face. She'd wasted away and looked like she'd shrunk two sizes. She wore an opulent dress that hung limp on her, like all life had been drained out of her.

"You're not dead? How is that possible?" She deliberately raised her voice. "You must've agreed to let Dad sell you off, right? Did you find some rich guy? Or did you agree to be a surrogate? Come on—tell me how Dad tortured you!"

Anne hurried over, looking at Camila with confusion and disgust. "What nonsense are you spouting? How dare you insult our most important guest, you lunatic! Selena and her father, Mr. Walker, are newly minted tycoons who are worth over a hundred million dollars!"

Camila jolted like she'd been shocked, the blood draining from her face, leaving it a sickly white.