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 "This is nearly out of date, and nobody's going to buy it at this hour.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.