Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Catching the flash of cold malice deep in Brianna's eyes, I knew the truth. She was not a ditzy little cutie at all.

I had already paid with my life to learn just how vicious she truly was.

"Not at all," I replied with dripping sarcasm. "Brianna can do whatever she wants. My opinion does not matter in this family anyway."

Brianna had been the one who pushed for home renovations in the first place. When my parents found it too troublesome, they stepped aside, and Logan dumped all the legwork onto me, claiming I needed to earn my keep.

I had run around town, compared prices, and used my connections to craft a flawless budget plan. Having Brianna destroy all my hard work left me bitter.

In my previous life, I had completely ignored her during the move. Feeling humiliated, she intentionally let go of the heavy sofa while we were lifting it together.

She knew my state piano finals were that very afternoon. The crushing weight fractured my fingers, snatching away the championship trophy that was rightfully mine.

A flicker of awkwardness crossed Brianna's face before she hurried toward me with fake enthusiasm.

"Come on, Lola, let us carry the sectional couch inside together!"

Before I could answer, she grabbed one end and lifted. I placed my hands underneath the base, barely using any strength.

The cheap furniture she bought was packed with heavy, low-grade composite filler instead of solid wood.

Yet Brianna managed to lift her side effortlessly while I was barely supporting mine. That proved she had deliberately dropped it on me in our past life.

Before she could pull her stunt, I abruptly pulled my hands away and stepped back.

A blood-curdling screech tore through the driveway. Brianna hopped around on one foot, clutching her mangled hand and screaming at the top of her lungs.

"Logan! My hand is broken! It hurts so bad!"

Logan dropped the box he was carrying and dashed over. He pulled Brianna into his arms, his eyes bloodshot with rage as he turned to glare at me.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he bellowed. "You could have killed your sister-in-law! Why wasn't it your hand that got crushed instead?"

I stood frozen, watching the sickening scene unfold.

In my past life, when my fingers were crushed, Brianna had simply pouted and played dumb.

"I did not mean to," she had whimpered back then. "I am so weak, but Lola insisted on lifting it with me. She knows I am clumsy..."

Logan had used that exact same disgusted tone to scold me while I was bleeding on the concrete.

"You terrified your sister-in-law!" he had yelled at me. "It is just a bruised finger, you drama queen. Stop acting like you are dying!"

Back then, tears of agony had blinded me as my hand went numb. My parents had only rushed to comfort Brianna, leaving me abandoned until the kind truck driver drove me to the emergency room in his cab.

My fingers had suffered comminuted fractures. I was never able to play the piano again.

Piano was the only hobby my parents had ever funded for me, and only because Logan had quit his lessons. They did not want the prepaid tuition to go to waste, so they reluctantly let me take his spot.

I had natural talent. While Logan gave the teacher constant headaches, I mastered complex pieces after hearing them once.