After I settled into my new room upstairs, Mom knocked on my door.

She sat beside me and said：“Evelyn, I know how much you loved your old room downstairs. But Linda needs it more than you do. Have a look around—whatever's missing in here, I'll get it for you.”

So she did know how much I loved that room. And she still made me give it up.

“That's okay, Mom. Thank you.” Perfectly polite. Perfectly final.

Because none of it mattered anymore.

That room was mine. Every detail chosen by my own hands, down to the floor-to-ceiling windows that opened onto the little garden. My one-of-a-kind princess room.

Now it belonged to Linda Simmons.

I didn't throw a fit. My quiet compliance seemed to catch Mom off guard.

But she accepted it quickly enough.

After all, wasn't this exactly the result she'd been hoping for when she sent me off to Family Swap?

“Get some rest, then.” She left the room.

Laughter drifted up from downstairs. I thought of the scenes I'd witnessed in my past life—Linda and my parents, warm and easy together.

Back then, I'd still hoped that kind of warmth would happen for me too.

Now I knew it never would.

So why did my heart still ache, even a little?

“It's fine. Just get used to it. The ending's already written—why go looking for pain?”

I threw myself into studying, and stopped caring about any of it.

The next time Mom scolded me was over Linda Simmons's eighteenth birthday.

She'd said she'd never had cake before, never had a real birthday, so my parents put together a whole elaborate celebration for her.

I came back from my tutoring session just as they finished cutting the cake.

Linda sat between my parents wearing a party hat, a slice of cake cradled in both hands, her face bright with happiness.

When she saw me walk in, she froze. The smile dropped. Her eyes darted to Mom, and she quietly set her cake down.

Then she wiped the corner of her mouth in a small, self-conscious motion—though there wasn't a trace of frosting there.

Every one of those little gestures landed right in Mom's line of sight.

Mom's brow creased as she turned to me：“Evelyn, have you been bullying Linda?”

Before I could say a word, she'd already wrapped a protective arm around Linda's shoulders.

As though I'd actually done something to her.

But I hadn't. Not in this life. I just had no intention of playing nice with her either.

I'd been treating her like she didn't exist, nothing more, and focusing on my own days.

“Mom, why would you just assume I was bullying her?”

Mom paused, then came back without a shred of doubt：“I know exactly what you're like—spoiled, domineering, and impossible.”

Her tone hardened：“We chose to adopt Linda. This is her home now. You're the older sister—you should be giving way to her, not the other way around.”

Linda turned to me with that eager-to-please look：“Why don't you come have some cake with us?”

I turned her down：“No, thanks.”

Linda looked to Mom for help.

Mom gave her a reassuring smile, then turned to me and the warmth was gone：“It's your sister's birthday. Don't ruin it for her.”

So it's fine to ruin it for me instead?

Right. They'd already forgotten my own birthday. Why would they care whether I was happy.

I smiled：“Mom, if I want cake, I can have it on my own birthday. She probably never got to have any before, right? So why would I take a share from her? Let her enjoy it.”

Polite, considerate, and distant. Not a single word anyone could fault.

“On your birthday……” Mom started to speak, then stopped—as though she'd just remembered that my birthday had already passed.

A flicker of guilt crossed her face.

I kept my voice even：“I agreed to let her stay. Naturally, I'm not going to do anything to her.”

“There's my promise. Satisfied, Mom?”

I turned and headed upstairs without waiting for her answer. Whether she felt guilty or not was no longer my concern.

My coldness finally made Mom sense that something was off.

When had it started? When had I stopped curling up against her, stopped being playful and affectionate the way I used to be?

Before Linda came, we'd had our share of rough patches, but in my eyes she was still the best mother in the world.

She rose to follow me, but behind her came Linda's soft, tearful voice：“She didn't bully me. I just… I miss my mom and dad.”

The footsteps that had been coming toward me turned and walked away.

Then Mom's voice, warm and aching with tenderness：“Poor thing. Your parents are gone now, but from today on, we're your mom and dad.”

I closed my door in silence.

How nice for her. She lost her parents and got new ones.

What about me? I lost mine too. Did anyone ever care?

The next day, I showed up in front of my parents with a lawyer and a transfer agreement on the table.

Twenty percent of the family company was mine—my grandfather had put it in his will before he passed. Held in trust by my parents until I turned eighteen, then mine outright.

In my last life, I'd been so consumed with competing against Linda Simmons for scraps of attention that I forgot the shares even existed.

I died without ever claiming them, and she got the benefit of every last cent.

My father stared at me, thrown off.：“You're barely an adult. What do you need shares for? Don't we give you enough spending money?”

My lawyer spoke up.：“Per the will of the late Mr. Carter, Evelyn Carter's shares are to be held by her personally upon reaching the age of eighteen. She now meets that condition. I'll need both signatures on the agreement.”

With a lawyer and a legal will sitting in front of them, they signed.

The second my mother set down the pen, she said：“These were going to be yours eventually anyway. Did you really have to do it like this just to make a point about us missing your birthday?”

“Just think of the shares as a belated birthday gift. You got what you wanted, so drop it.”

What a strange thing to say—my grandfather left those shares to me, and somehow they'd become a birthday present my parents were graciously making up for. People really are like that: hold on to someone else's things long enough and you forget they were never yours.

I slid the signed agreement into my bag. I tried to swallow it, tried again, but the bitterness still wouldn't go down.

“Mom, when have I ever made a fuss about my birthday? If anything, that sounds like your guilty conscience, not mine. But don't worry about it—I don't expect a birthday. It's just a birthday. It's really not that important. And the shares are what Grandpa left me. They're not a gift from you. They were always mine.”

“And Dad—spending money? You know exactly what the annual dividends on twenty percent look like. All those years since Grandpa died, that money's been sitting in your hands. If we really did the math, you'd probably still owe me.”

My voice was cold and hard, and I'm sure my expression matched.

The two of them looked at me, their faces shifting from shock to disappointment to outright anger.

“Why do you think your grandfather left you anything?”

“Because you're our daughter!”

I smiled faintly.“Well, can't help that. You're the ones who decided to have me.”