Zea's POV

When I agreed to register as a student on financial aid, I wasn’t worried at all. But my boyfriend’s childhood sweetheart completely panicked.

In my previous life, during the first-day introductions at university, Sheila Smith, my boyfriend’s so-called childhood friend, suddenly stood up and claimed she was the daughter of the city’s richest man. Then, with a sweet smile, she pointed at me and told everyone I was a student she had personally sponsored.

I didn’t want someone else claiming my identity, so I pulled out my phone and showed proof of my parents’ recent transfer to cover my living expenses.

But Sheila had already planned everything. She also showed her own bank records, and every single transfer was ten times more than what my parents gave me.

Just like that, people labeled me as fake, vain, and a gold-digger who was trying to steal someone else's identity.

Even worse, rumors spread that my dad and brother were my sugar daddies.

Desperate to clear things up, I begged my family to make a public statement revealing my real identity.

But then everything fell apart as my family’s companies went bankrupt overnight. Then, a few days later, a suspicious car crash took the lives of every single person in my family.

At their funeral, I cried so hard I passed out.

I kept asking myself why. Why did we have to lose everything just because I tried to prove who I was?

Heartbroken and alone, I ran to my boyfriend, hoping for comfort. Instead, I found him smiling with Sheila in his arms. He kissed her on the forehead and said, “Sheila, your system is amazing. It doesn’t just make us money. It even helped us steal Zea’s identity. Now we never have to hide again.”

That was when it all clicked.

Everything had started with that damn system of hers.

Fueled by rage, I grabbed a knife and went after the two of them. But they pushed me off the balcony before I could do anything.

And there, I died.

Suddenly, I woke up, finding myself back on the day of the university introductions.

This time, when Sheila tried to steal my identity and called me a charity case, I didn’t panic. I leaned into it and even texted my parents, [Mom, Dad, don’t send me any more money. I’m going to support myself through part-time work.]

When Sheila checked her balance, she lost her mind.

——

“Hi, everyone, I’m Sheila Smith, daughter of Humbert Smith and Rosell Morrison.”

Her voice was exactly how I remembered it, and hearing it again made me tremble uncontrollably.

I looked up at the stage, and there she was, standing under the spotlight, shyly covering her face and giggling.

That was when I knew for sure that I had been reborn.

Just like before, all she had to do was drop my parents’ names, and the room started buzzing.

“Humbert Smith? Isn’t that the richest man in Portland? I’ve never seen him in person, but that name is legendary!”

“And Rosell Morrison is a famous artist. I even went to one of her exhibitions. I can’t believe their daughter is right here with us!”

“No wonder Sheila is so generous. She really is the daughter of a billionaire!”

Sheila didn’t correct them. She just giggled and put a finger to her lips. “Shhh, let’s keep it low-key.”

Her so-called humility only fueled the excitement.

I, on the other hand, stayed calm, completely unbothered.

Because only I knew the truth.

Sheila was born in a poor mountain village. Her family favored sons over daughters. Even though she had top grades, they refused to let her continue school. They wanted to marry her off for a bride price.

If it hadn’t been for my parents doing charity work in her area and offering to support her out of pity, she never would’ve made it out of that village, let alone to this university.

But what did she do with their kindness?

The moment we both got admitted, the first thing she did was steal my identity.

In my past life, I couldn’t hold back my anger. I stood up and exposed her lie.

Yet she didn’t even feel guilty. Instead, she pointed at me and cried, “Zea, I'm already sponsoring you. I helped you get into this university out of kindness. How could you try to steal my identity after all that?”

To defend myself, I showed my parents’ recent transfer, which was over a hundred thousand in funds.

But Sheila had come prepared.

Her transfer records were already queued up, and each one showed ten times the amount.

Zea's POV

Not only did Sheila lie, but she also doubled down, claiming the money I showed was actually scraped together from her living expenses. She even said I didn’t know how to be grateful.

And everyone believed her.

The moment those words left her mouth, I was branded a gold-digger, a social climber, a heartless freeloader.

I was shunned and gossiped about constantly.

Even worse, people started whispering that my dad and brother weren’t actually my family, but my sugar daddies.

After that, misfortune came crashing down on my entire family.

One by one, our companies went bankrupt. Then came the car accidents, one after another, until none of them were left.

Thinking back now, I remembered that strange “system” Sheila had. And just remembering it, a chill ran down my spine.

This time, I wouldn't make any rash moves. Not until I fully understand what that system was and how it worked. I have to be smart and cautious.

I thought that by staying quiet and not standing up to challenge her, Sheila would be pleased.

But instead, her expression turned sour. She stared at me with a strange intensity, like she was waiting for me to speak up and expose her.

But why? Why would she want me to call her out?

The teacher and students had been clapping politely for a while, clearly getting tired of her little performance. Soon, the teacher gestured for her to step down.

But Sheila just stared into space, like she was talking to someone only she could see.

Just when the whole room was getting restless, she suddenly spoke up again.

“Miss, why don’t we have Zea come up to introduce herself?”

Hearing my name come out of her mouth made everyone sit up straighter. Since she had just claimed to be the daughter of the city’s richest man, people assumed I must come from some elite background, too.

“I’ve seen Zea’s skincare. It’s La Mer. Her bag looks like a luxury brand, too. I bet she’s some wealthy heiress.”

“Yeah, someone told me she even had a private maid help her make her bed on the first day of school. I knew she wasn’t just some regular student!”

But the mood instantly shifted as Sheila added, “She’s a student I’m sponsoring. I wanted her to go next.”

The room went dead silent. Then came the whispers.

“Wait, what? She’s on financial aid? Then how is she affording all that stuff?”

“Maybe all of that belongs to Sheila, and she just borrowed it? That’s so shameless if it’s true.”

“Ugh, that’s disgusting. Acting rich when you’re not? What a fake.”

And just like that, Sheila’s trap was clear.

If I didn’t defend myself, I’d be stuck with the label of a fraud pretending to be poor.

But if I did speak up, she’d just humiliate me again with “evidence” like last time.

But that was the part I couldn’t figure out.

Why was she so desperate for me to slap her with the truth? Why did she want to be exposed just so she could expose me back?

Then it hit me.

Back then, the downfall of my entire family started right after I tried to reveal her lies and got publicly humiliated in return.

Could the two events be connected?

Instead of playing into her hands again, I made a choice.

I stood up calmly and walked to the front of the class.

“My clothes and bags are knockoffs, and it was my mom who helped me settle in on day one, not a maid. I'm a financial aid student, sure, but having a bit of vanity isn’t a crime, is it?”

Most of my classmates weren’t exactly rich themselves. As such, they just nodded with a neutral expression. Seeing me admit it so openly, they only thought I was proud and maybe a little image-conscious, but nothing worth judging harshly.

But Sheila, on the other hand, looked stunned.

She clearly didn’t expect me to accept the label so easily, and her expression slowly turned from confusion to frustration.

It was like I had just messed up her entire plan.

And at that moment, I knew I’d guessed right.

If I were going to play the part of a financial aid student, I might as well go all in.

As soon as I stepped off stage, I pulled out my phone and sent a message to the family group chat.

[Starting today, no one is allowed to send me a single cent. Not even a buck. If anyone sends me money, I’ll hold a grudge toward them and never talk to them again.]

Of course, my family objected. They were totally against it.

But I kept pushing, nagging, pleading, guilt-tripping, until they finally gave in.

Just to make sure no one caved later on, I even made them all sign a written agreement about it.

Zea's POV

Back at the dorm, I gathered up all my luxury clothes and designer bags and took them to a secondhand shop to sell them.

With the cash, I bought a few plain outfits that cost less than ten bucks each and switched to basic skincare products worth nothing over twenty bucks.

Once I was done, I transferred all the money in my account to my mom, leaving only $200 for myself as my living expenses.

But just as the transfer went through, my phone started ringing.

It was Jericho Hampton, sounding frantic.

“Zea! What happened? Why’d you transfer all the money out? You can’t just do something like this without talking to me first. That’s our joint account, you know. You emptied it without even saying a word!”

He called it a “joint” account, but I was the only one putting money into it. Jericho had never deposited a single cent.

He was a student my family sponsored, barely scraping by on his allowance. But he had a massive ego and was obsessed with appearances. He loved playing the rich guy, constantly treating his roommates to meals. And when the money ran out, he just dipped into mine. Worse, he always made up some excuse, pretending he didn’t love me enough to accept my money, like I was forcing it on him.

Blood boiling, I let out a cold laugh. “Jericho, do you even hear yourself? Yeah, it’s a joint account, but how much have you ever put in? Do you seriously think my money is just part of your personal assets now?”

After saying that, there was a rare moment of silence on the line. He probably didn’t expect me to say that.

Ever since he saved me from a few thugs two years ago, I’d practically treated him like royalty—whatever he asked for, I'd given it without hesitation.

But now? I wasn’t having it.

When I didn’t say anything else, he tried to soften his tone.

“Zea, come on. You know I didn’t mean it that way. I just... I was worried you wouldn’t have any money left. If you—”

But, fed up, I cut him in, “Oh, you’re worried I won’t have money? Great. In that case, why don’t you return all the money I spent on you? My family won’t be sending me big transfers anymore, so I could really use it.”

At that moment, he started panicking. I could hear the panic pitch his voice higher.

“But that was your gift to me! You can’t just take it back. Zea, your family can’t just cut you off like that. Why don’t you try sweet-talking them into sending more?”

“Are you deaf? I said, give the money back. Or I’ll tell my family exactly how you’ve been living off me,” I threatened.

Right after I said that, I got a transfer notification of $40,000

Then Jericho’s voice came back on, forced and bitter, though he was clearly trying to sound nice.

“That’s everything I have right now. I’ll start picking up work in the next few days and pay back the rest as soon as I can.”

If this had been before, the thought of him working part-time would’ve broken my heart.

But now? I felt nothing.

I even gave him a gentle reminder. “Make sure to get more than one job. If you’re late on payments and I happen to get annoyed, I might just slip up and let something ‘accidentally’ reach my family.”

As soon as I hung up, I couldn’t help but imagine how he looked right now and shout, “That felt amazing!”

That scumbag thought he could take everything from me? No way. Whatever he took, I’ll make him spit it back out every last bit.

With only a little money left for living expenses, I decided to get a part-time job. So I went to look for Anastasia Mitchell, our class rep, who was known for working while studying.

She happened to share a dorm with Sheila, and sure enough, Sheila was there when I arrived.

When Anastasia heard I was looking for work, she kindly offered to introduce me to her boss at the BBQ shop where she worked.

But Sheila wasn’t having it.

“Zea, part-time jobs are exhausting. You might not be able to handle that. I really think you shouldn’t go. I’ll talk to my parents and get them to send you more money.”

Even so, I didn’t even spare a glance at her. I was too busy scanning the BBQ shop owner’s WhatsApp QR code.

But that must’ve rattled her because she suddenly lunged at me and tried to grab my phone.

“I told you not to take on a job! I’ll give you money! Don’t you understand plain language?”

Only then did I look at her, and then I said, “Sure. I need forty grand. You giving me that?”

She froze, so I snatched my phone back.