At the orphanage gates, the fake heiress stole my proof of identity and slipped into a waiting luxury car, smiling triumphantly.

I leaned against the attic while waving goodbye to her. "Have a safe journey, my scapegoat."

In my past life, I was taken back to a wealthy family. I thought I'd found my family.

My adoptive parents smiled at me, bought me dresses, and called me their darling daughter.

Three months later, I was wheeled into an operating room. My heart was removed.

I died on the operating table. They didn't even hold a funeral for me.

After being reborn, I wanted to make everyone pay the price.

This time, it was them who should be on the operating table.

I, Judy Wembley, had been reborn one hour before the Fletcher family came to pick me up.

Just like in my previous life, Daisy Stewart kicked my door open and demanded the paperwork proving my connection to the Fletchers. It was what would have led me straight into the Fletcher family.

"Judy, take a good look at yourself. You're tanned and skinny. The Fletchers are looking for an heiress, not some stray they picked out of a dumpster.

"You'd better be smart about this. Hand over your documents and let me enjoy the good life for you. If you dare say no–"

Daisy looked snobbishly at me while I sat on the bed.

After looking me up and down, she didn't even try to conceal the disgust on her face.

In my previous life, I fought desperately to protect my birth certificate. She and two of her friends pinned me to the floor and beat me up.

Daisy sat on top of me and slapped me over and over again. When she was done, she even spat in my face.

This time, I wasn't planning to resist.

Instead, I shrank back as if I were terrified. "If I give it to you, does that mean you won't hit me?"

Daisy's eyes lit up. "Of course."

Trembling, I reached under my pillow and pulled out my birth certificate.

She snatched it away instantly.

The moment she did that, my finger brushed against the back of her hand.

A vision flashed before my eyes.

Daisy, who was in a hospital gown, lay in an ICU bed. Her chest was wrapped in bandages.

Her face was awfully pale, and her lips were cracked from being dry. She had eyes that seemed sunk deep into their sockets. She looked like a corpse that hadn't quite finished dying.

A doctor turned to my adoptive mother, Mary Fletcher. "The heart transplant rejection is showing dire symptoms. Her heart can't be saved."

Mary stood beside the bed without a trace of emotion. She didn't even glance at Daisy. "Then pull the plug. Don't waste a hospital bed," she said coldly.

There were tears, fear, and despair in Daisy's eyes.

She opened her mouth but no sound came out.

The vision shattered.

Warm liquid trickled from my nose.

Daisy frowned in disgust. "Why is your nose bleeding? That's gross."

With the birth cert in hand, she turned around and left without looking back.

I watched her leave and smirked.

I then opened the journal hidden under my pillow.

On the first page, I saw words written in my own handwriting.

[Ability: By touching someone's skin, I can see visions of that person's future (three to five seconds, fragmented). Cost: Every use causes a nosebleed and short-term memory loss. I must record every vision, or I'll forget it.]

On this exact day in my previous life, the wealthy Fletcher family had arrived and claimed I was their long-lost biological daughter.

I thought I had finally found a family and people who loved me, but it was all a lie.

Mary took me home, bought me dresses, and treated me to expensive meals. She even called me her precious daughter.

It was all because I had a compatible heart for her eldest son, Stanley Fletcher.

Three months later, I was wheeled into an operating room.

My chest was cut open, my ribs were forced apart, and I died on that operating table.

There was neither a funeral nor a gravestone. In fact, nobody even remembered my name.

I closed the journal and slowly clenched my fists.

After walking to the attic window, I pushed it open.

Downstairs, a black sedan had stopped outside the orphanage.

Mary stepped out in a Chanel suit. Her hair was done perfectly. With tears in her eyes, she wrapped her arms around Daisy.

"My girl. I've finally found you," she said through sobs.

Daisy was crying too. Her sobs were even louder than Mary. Tears and snot covered her face.

Reporters surrounded them while cameras flashed nonstop.

Leaning against the windowsill, I smiled and waved at Daisy.

"Have a safe journey, my scapegoat," I whispered.

The black sedan slowly drove away.

I watched it disappear at the end of the street. My smile gradually faded away.

I pressed a hand against my chest.

My heart was still beating.

Thump.

"This time, you'll be the ones ending up on the operating table."

After Daisy left, the orphanage became much quieter.

Since I was the top scorer in the mid-term exams, the director did something unprecedented and awarded me a scholarship worth 500 dollars.

When she handed me the envelope, I caught her avoiding my gaze.

I knew it wasn't a reward. It was hush money. She was afraid I'd expose the fact that Daisy had stolen my identity.

I accepted it anyway.

The 500 dollars, combined with the money I'd secretly earned from tutoring over the past two months, was just enough to cover a single semester's tuition for the city's most prestigious private high school, Montesso High School.

The school was packed with heirs and heiresses from powerful families. Its tuition was outrageous. A single semester's tuition cost up to 3,800 dollars.

I didn't care.

I needed to be there because Eve Fletcher attended this high school.

Eve was the Fletcher family's youngest daughter.

In my previous life, she had been the first person to suggest I get a physical check-up.

Back then, I never got the chance to take revenge.

This time, every member of the Fletcher family would pay. I'd make them pay one by one.

On the first day of school, I walked into the classroom in an old uniform that had been washed so many times the color had nearly faded away.

The other students had on tailored navy blazers embroidered with gold school crests.

The looks they gave me were the same looks people reserved for a budget airline passenger wandering into the first-class lounge.

"Who is she? Why is she dressed like that?" someone whispered.

"Did she walk through the wrong door?" Another person chimed in.

I ignored them all.

I chose a seat by the window in the last row. I was exactly two rows behind Eve.

Eve sat near the front. She was surrounded by a group of girls. Her laughter echoed through the room.

She wasn't stunningly beautiful, but she knew how to present herself. Her eyes and gentle demeanor made her seem kind and approachable.

It was the same face that had smiled so sincerely at me in my previous life. "Judy, Mom's worried about your health. Let's go get a checkup. Think of it as a routine physical."

I remembered every expression on her face, every word she said, and every curve of her smile.

During the break, Eve approached me exactly as I expected.

She extended a hand and smiled at me. "Hi. You're new, aren't you? I'm Eve. Let's be friends."

Her smile was flawless.

Pretending to be flattered, I shook her hand.

The instant our fingers touched, another vision appeared in my mind.

Eve stood before Mary while crying dramatically. "Mom, why should that orphan get part of the inheritance? She's an outsider! Why does she get to stay in my room and use my things?"

Mary wrapped an arm around her. Mary's voice was gentle, but her words were ice-cold. "She won't live much longer. Once your brother's heart transplant is finished, she'll outlive her usefulness. Everything she has will be yours again."

Eve immediately brightened up. She leaned against Mary's shoulder. "Mom, you're the best."

The vision shattered.

I felt something warm in my nose. I quickly tilted my head back and pretended to sneeze.

"Are you okay?" Eve asked with concern.

Her voice was gentle, and her expression was sincere.

If I hadn't seen that vision or lived through my previous life, I might actually have believed she cared.

"I'm fine. It's probably just a cold." I rubbed my nose and smiled. "Thanks, Eve. You're really nice."

Her smile became even gentler. "We're practically family now. By the way, what's your name?"

"Judy."

After a few more polite exchanges, she left.

I lowered my head and wrote in my notebook.

[Eve knows about Mary's plan. She's an accomplice.]

That afternoon, during the final lesson, the homeroom teacher entered with a new student.

"Class, this is our new transfer student. Please welcome Henry Lockhart."

I looked up.

He was tall. He looked at least 6'1".

He had striking features and a strong brow. There was something sharp about him, a quiet intensity lurking beneath his polished exterior. He looked like a blade sheathed in velvet, dangerous but carefully concealed.

Henry Lockhart was the heir to a renowned family of doctors.

I knew that name.

Before my death in my previous life, I'd seen him on the news. He had exposed a major corporation for illegal organ trafficking that triggered a nationwide scandal.

That corporation had been Fletcher Group.

Henry looked around the classroom. His gaze landed on me for a second.

In that brief moment, I felt him evaluating me. It wasn't the way a boy looked at a girl. Instead, it was the way an analyst evaluated data points.

He walked toward the empty seat beside me.

"May I sit here?" he asked.

"Suit yourself."

He sat down and retrieved a thick medical journal from his backpack. The cover featured an anatomical diagram of a human heart.

I glanced at it, and my pulse quickened.

"Are you interested in this?" he asked.

I countered, "Are you?"

He turned to face me. Genuine interest appeared in his eyes.

"I'm Henry." He extended his hand.

"Judy Wembley." I shook it.

The moment our skin touched, another vision flashed before me.

Henry sat alone in a lab. There was a pathology report on the desk.

[Stanley, male, 22. Genetic cardiomyopathy. Terminal illness. Requires heart transplant. Matching records–]

Henry frowned. Using a red pen, he circled the words 'donor source' and drew a large question mark beside them.

He then picked up his phone and dialed a number. "Look into Fletcher Group's medical partnerships, especially anything involving organ transplants. Yes. I want every record."

The vision shattered.

My nose felt warm, and a drop of blood landed on my uniform.

I quickly lowered my head and pressed a tissue against my nose.

"Your nose is bleeding." Henry handed me a pack of wet wipes. It looked so natural that one might think he carried them all the time.

"Thanks." I accepted them and wiped the blood away.

That was when I figured out that Henry was already investigating the Fletcher family.

He wasn't my enemy. He was an ally.

That was true at least for now.

For the next two weeks, I kept myself busy with studying.

I had memories from my previous life. I knew what would be on the SAT, what problems needed to be solved, and which concepts mattered most.

However, I couldn't stand out too much.

If an orphan suddenly became a genius overnight, people would start asking questions.

On the first practice test, I deliberately ranked second in the grade. I was right behind Henry.

The day the scores came out, Henry stared at my answer sheet for a long time.

"Your solution to the last math problem is a lot more succinct than the official answer," he said. "Who taught you that?"

"I figured it out myself."

He glanced at me but didn't ask further.

I knew he didn't believe me.

One Saturday afternoon, I pretended to coincidentally run into Henry in the library.

Stacks of documents covered the table in front of him. Every one of them was related to heart transplantation. Some were in English, while others were in foreign languages.

He read quickly and occasionally jotted notes into a notebook.

I walked over and sat across from him.

"Are you interested in heart transplants?" I asked.

He looked up. There was a guarded look in his eyes. "Do you know a lot about it?"

"I read a lot of medical books at the orphanage.

"I think the biggest problem with heart transplants isn't the procedure itself. It's the donor supply. Legal donors are scarce. That's why the black market thrives."

Henry set his pen down and leaned back in his chair. He looked at me.

"What exactly are you trying to say?"

I took a deep breath and met his gaze. Word by word, I said, "If someone obtained a heart through illegal means, could you help put them behind bars?"

For a long time, he said nothing.

The caution in his expression gradually shifted into scrutiny.

"Do you have evidence?" he asked.

"Not yet," I said. "But I will soon."

I didn't say another word.

I knew it wasn't time yet.

I needed evidence from inside the Fletcher family.

That night, I returned to the orphanage. I lay in bed flipping through my journal.

Daisy had already died in my place.

The Fletcher family would come for me soon.

I needed to be ready.

After closing my eyes, I replayed every detail from my previous life. I recalled the layout of Mary's study, the location of the safe, and the drawer that contained the compatibility reports.

I also recalled the passcode hidden in my adoptive father David Fletcher's fountain pen, the maids' shift schedules, and the blind spots in the security cameras.

Every detail remained crystal clear.

This time, I wouldn't be fooled again.

Two months later, news that Stanley had been admitted to ICU due to a severe case of heart transplant rejection went viral.

Media outlets flooded every platform with the story. Fletcher Group's stock plunged by fifteen percent overnight.

Another headline soon followed. Daisy had died in the Fletcher family's villa due to a supposed fall.

I sat in the school's reading room and scrolled through the news on my phone. There was a blank expression on my face.

I had known this would happen.

Daisy's heart had never been a safe medical match for Stanley.

After the transplant, Stanley's immune system attacked the new heart almost immediately, triggering severe rejection.

With Stanley's life hanging by a thread, Daisy had lost her value.

The Fletcher family would never allow someone carrying that many secrets to stay alive.

A fatal fall was the perfect solution. It was a clean job, respectable on the surface, and impossible to trace.

The news called it an accident.

The Fletcher family even held a funeral for her. They published an obituary describing Daisy as kind, sweet, and deeply loved.

I snorted.

'Kind? Sweet?'

At the orphanage, Daisy had bullied everyone. She stole food and clothes from younger children and beat up anyone she disliked.

The night she died, I looked out the window at the moon and said, "Sorry, but you owed me that much."

Less than a week after Daisy's death, I anonymously sent information about her biological mother to the Fletcher family.

The woman, who had once worked at the orphanage, was the one who had switched the babies years ago.

After her arrest, she confessed everything about the switch.

Only then did the Fletcher family finally find me.

That afternoon, a black Maybach pulled up outside the orphanage.

The director personally came out to greet them. She was smiling so hard it looked as if her makeup might crack.

She trailed behind them and was practically tripping over herself to please them.

From the second-floor window, I watched Mary step out of the car. She had on a beige cashmere coat. Her hair was done perfectly. Her eyes were slightly red, and so was the tip of her nose.

Her acting was excellent.

In my previous life, she'd worn that exact expression while having me completely fooled.

The director called me downstairs.

I took a deep breath, hid my journal under my pillow, and changed into my best outfit.

It was really just a school uniform without patches of mended fabric.

I studied myself in the reflection of the window. I was tanned, skinny, and had frizzy hair, but my eyes were sharp.

My eyes were different from before.

In my previous life, they had been filled with longing for love, family, and warmth.

This time, only one word could describe the look in my eyes, and that was revenge.

I walked down the stairs and stopped in front of Mary.

She immediately grabbed my hands while tears rolled down her cheeks. "Honey, I'm so sorry. You've suffered so much out here all these years."

I didn't pull away because I needed to touch her.

The instant our fingertips touched, a vision sliced through my mind like a blade.

Mary sat in her study across from David.

A compatibility report lay open on the desk. I could see the words on it clearly.

[Perfect match.]

Mary said, "Her heart can be used. Once Stan's condition stabilizes a little more, we'll schedule the surgery."

David asked, "What about the girl?"

Mary snorted. "Set it up like an accident. She came from an orphanage anyway. Nobody will care."

The vision shattered.

My nose felt warm. I quickly lowered my head and pretended to wipe away tears. I then smeared the blood across the back of my hand.

"Honey, what's wrong?" Mary asked in an affectionate and gentle tone.

"I'm just so happy." I looked up with tears streaming down my face. This time, they were real. It wasn't because I was touched but because I was furious.

"Mom, I finally have a family."

I threw myself into her arms and trembled as I cried.

Mary gently patted my back. It was such a tender act that she almost felt like a real mother to me.

But with my face buried in her cashmere coat, I could feel that her body was stiff. Her motions were mechanical.

She looked over my shoulder toward David waiting in the car.

The two of them exchanged a knowing glance.

I buried my face deeper into her coat. From an angle nobody could see, the corners of my lips curled upward.