After my rebirth, I avoided my family and my boyfriend like the plague.

When they tried to throw me a birthday party, I faked an urgent business trip to dodge it.

When my parents pleaded with me to move back, I secretly bought my own house that very night.

When my boyfriend popped the question, I spun on my heel and married someone else.

In my previous life, my sister and I were swept away in a raging flood. By sheer luck, a jagged tree branch snagged my clothes, saving me from the depths, but my sister drowned in the merciless current.

My parents, consumed by grief and rage, gripped my throat and screamed, "If it weren't for you, Andrea would still be alive!"

My boyfriend acted like it was no big deal, offering half-hearted comfort before we tied the knot.

But on our wedding anniversary, during a family cruise, they cornered me on the deck and shoved me overboard.

"Time to taste drowning yourself!" they hissed.

It turned out they had never gotten over Andrea's death.

My boyfriend had never forgotten about her.

When my eyes fluttered open again, I found myself back on that fateful day.

This time, I vowed to live for myself, reclaiming the joy they'd stolen from me.

A scalding drop of wax splattered onto the back of my hand, causing me to yelp in pain.

My parents turned their heads, their eyes brimming with undisguised disgust.

"Why are you so clumsy all the time?" barked my dad.

I remained silent, but inside, I was bubbling with excitement.

That was because I had been reborn, flung back to my birthday.

In Doreraford, everyone had heard about Andrea Jordan, the delicate darling of the city.

Few were aware she had an older sister.

From a young age, she had been sickly, which garnered our parents' boundless love and attention, leaving me to fade into her shadow.

We were seated in the opulent private room of an upscale restaurant.

My dad, Brent Jordan, waved off the waiter and jerked his chin toward me. "She can handle it."

My mom, Fiona Jordan, offered a rehearsed smile. "We don't need outsiders at our family dinner."

The waiter shot me a puzzled, pitying look before slipping out.

I calmly rose from my seat, refilling their cups and serving the appetizers.

In their minds, I might as well have been the hired help, invisible until needed.

Andrea blinked, innocently tilting her head. "Claudia, would you sing a birthday song? You've always had such a killer voice."

As a child, I had shown a natural talent for singing, but our family's limited finances were redirected to fund Andrea's painting lessons, leaving my passion neglected.

Fiona lit up at the idea, clapping her hands together. "Good idea! It's your birthday, too. Let's make it a double celebration."

My faint smile masked a bitter pang. They'd conveniently forgotten that my actual birthday was a week earlier.

Years ago, Andrea had suggested merging our birthdays to make things more fun, and our parents had jumped on it, gushing over how clever she was.

From that moment on, her birthday overwrote mine, erasing me a little more.

Once, I would have refused outright. But now, reborn and wiser, I played along and began to sing.

Sadly, my voice, rusty from years of disuse, cracked mid-song.

Andrea pouted immediately, and Brent slammed his fist down on the table. "Are you sabotaging Andrea's big day on purpose?"

Fiona's brows knitted in disapproval. "I never pegged you for being this spiteful."

Andrea dabbed at nonexistent tears. "Don't blame her. I'm sure she didn't mean to mess up."

Turning to me with a saccharine tone, she added, "It's scorching today. How about we go swimming later to cool off?"

Panic surged through me.

It felt like an iron grip had seized my throat, squeezing the air from my lungs. Fragmented memories reassembled in my mind like a horrifying puzzle.

In my previous life, Andrea's birthday ritual always included a swim, where she would glide through the water like a graceful mermaid, basking in admiring gazes, while I floundered awkwardly beside her, the overlooked sidekick.

That fateful summer, relentless rains had turned the river into a monster. A flash flood roared in without warning, ripping us from the shore and hurling us into chaos.

By a stroke of luck, a protruding branch caught my sleeve, halting my descent into the abyss.

Andrea wasn't so fortunate. The current claimed her, and her lifeless body was recovered hours later.

Devastated, my parents lunged at me, their fingers digging into my neck as they howled, "This is on you! Why couldn't it have been you instead?"

My boyfriend, Steven Leonard, stood pale but positioned himself between us, murmuring consolations while I drowned in self-blame.

He proposed to me 99 times, wearing down my guilt until I finally caved and said yes.

On our third anniversary, he floated the idea of a family cruise. I'd been naïve, dreaming of reconciliation amid the ocean waves.

But one night, they lured me to the deck under the pretense of stargazing. In a blur, their hands shoved me hard over the edge.

As I plummeted, their faces twisted into masks of vengeance. "Andrea died because of you! Time to taste drowning for yourself!"

Steven's eyes burned with long-suppressed hatred. "I've waited years for this. Go to hell and beg for her forgiveness!"

The frigid water invaded my mouth and nose, pulling me under as I thrashed futilely.

Only in those final moments did the truth crash over me. My parents had always held me responsible for Andrea's death, and Steven's heart had always belonged to her.

I was the outsider and the disposable one.

Reborn, I made a silent oath: I would live for myself and sever all ties with them.

Jolted back to the present, I fixed my gaze on Andrea. "Sorry, can't make it. I've got a business trip lined up right after this."

Her hand shot out to clutch mine, and she pleaded, "Come on. This is our one special day together every year. Are you really going to skip it?"

Andrea was away at art school most of the time, and our 'sisterly' moments were rare, making her plea even more manipulative.

Brent's face darkened with disapproval. "Andrea is bending over backward here, and you're gonna play hardball?"

Fiona pulled Andrea into a protective embrace, sparing me not even a glance. "Only Andrea would bother to include you. What kind of dead-end job drags you away on a birthday?"

My career wasn't flashy. I ran an online clothing boutique.

In the early days, I'd rise before dawn to source inventory, often standing at my stall until dusk without a single sale.

Then I'd ridden the e-commerce boom, scaling up into a thriving business that lifted our family out of hardship.

Andrea burrowed deeper into Fiona's arms. "Ease up on Claudia. She is the breadwinner of our family."

Her words were like gasoline on Brent's macho pride, his face contorting as veins pulsed in his forehead.

"Breadwinner? What's a few bucks from peddling rags gonna do?" he snorted.

My eyes met Andrea's, and I caught the triumphant sparkle in them.

She always knew how to stoke his ego into a blaze, but I kept my tone neutral, refusing to take the bait. "Yeah, maybe I got ahead of myself."

Andrea had mastered the art of puppeteering our parents since childhood.

When she whined about school cafeteria food, they yanked her out for home-cooked meals, while I, enrolled in the same school, got stuck as a boarder.

My dorm mates assumed I hailed from some distant town, unaware that my home was a mere mile away.

As the distance grew, so did the emotional chasm between my parents and me. I became a ghost in my own family.

I pivoted to leave, but Fiona hurried after me, tugging at my sleeve. "Claudia, are you upset? Birthdays are for family time. Put work aside for a while."

"I'm not," I replied, my words clipped and emotionless.

The room fell silent, shock rippling across their faces.

That was because, in my past life, I'd have erupted, yelling, slamming doors, and shattering vases for their attention.

Now, their opinions held no power over me.

Fiona shifted uncomfortably. She fished out a dainty bracelet and slid it onto my wrist with forced enthusiasm. "Don't think we play favorites. You're our daughter, too. We love you both equally."

Her words rang hollow.

No sooner had they settled than a deliberate clatter echoed from the table.

Andrea clutched her hand, whining, "Ow! This bracelet is way too clunky. It bashed my hand."

Her smug glance at me spoke volumes.

The burn on my hand from the wax still throbbed, but I ignored it, slipping out as they swarmed around her in a frenzy of concern.

I had just arrived home when my phone buzzed.

It was my best friend, Joyce Roy, her voice tentative on the line. "Claudia, about that guy I mentioned last time... you up to meeting him?"

She paused, then confessed, "Honestly, I already showed him your picture, and he's totally smitten. I get that you and Steven are engaged, but let's be real. Anyone can see he's not treating you right."

"Sure, why not? Set it up," I replied without hesitation.

Joyce paused, then squealed with delight. "Hallelujah, you've finally seen the light! Wait for my good news."

Just then, a pair of arms encircled me from behind, pulling me close.

"What's the big excitement about?" a familiar voice murmured.

I knew it was Steven without turning, but I wriggled free from his hold, stepping away.

"Nothing important." I shrugged.

The chill in my voice caught him off guard.

He tried to probe further, but his phone pinged with a notification from Andrea's social media.

In the post, she posed cozily between our parents, the trio radiating joy as if they were the only family that mattered.

[Swim plans fell through today, but who needs that when you've got your loved ones? PS: My hand is killing me. Fingers crossed for zero bad vibes this year.]

Steven's face flushed crimson as he jabbed a finger at me. "You know Andrea counts on that annual swim with you. Why did you flake out this time? And what about her hand? Was that your doing? She is your sister. How could you hurt her like that?"

In my past life, he'd been chomping at the bit to crash my birthday dinner. I'd naively thought it was about bonding with me and my family.

Only later did I piece it together. Despite my repeated reminders that my real birthday was a week earlier, he clung to today's date.

It wasn't a mix-up of calendars, but of people.

His face contorted with rage. This wasn't the first time he'd unleashed on me like this.

Once I'd brought him into the family fold, our alone time evaporated. He'd always insist, "Let's include Andrea. She'd be so lonely otherwise."

Our romantic outings devolved into me trailing behind their laughter. Even movie nights had her wedged between us on the couch.

We'd bickered endlessly about it, but he'd brush me off with a sneer. "She is your sister. I'm just being nice. Why are you so paranoid?"

To him, I was the bitter shadow of Andrea's radiant light. Pampered and adored, she could never be at fault.

His casual indifference only amplified my supposed pettiness. Joyce had spotted his lack of commitment ages ago, but in my previous life, I'd ignored the red flags and buried my doubts.

This time around, I was done with him.

"Yeah, I guess that's just who I am," I replied flatly.