Chapter 3

Chapter 3

A cold sneer tugged at my lips. I knew my words carried zero weight in this toxic family.

In my past life, my severe injuries earned me nothing but blame. Now that Brianna was the one hurting, nobody was going to show me any mercy anyway.

I stood there calmly, watching Logan demand an apology.

"She insisted on lifting it herself," I said coldly. "It is just a bruised hand. It is not like she is going to die."

I threw Logan's exact words from my past life right back into his face.

Logan's temper flared instantly. He raised his heavy hand to strike me, but I stepped right into his space, tilting my chin up and screaming at the top of my lungs.

"Go ahead! Hit me! Hit me so the whole neighborhood can see how a grown man beats his teenage sister! Brianna is pushing thirty, yet her own stupidity is somehow my fault?"

My voice echoed down the quiet street. Curtains twitched, and several neighbors poked their heads out of their front doors to watch the commotion.

My parents did not care about me, but they cared about their reputation more than life itself. They desperately wanted to appear refined and upper-class, and a public domestic scene was their worst nightmare.

In my past life, I had swallowed every insult in silence. Even with shattered bones, I had not uttered a single complaint, which only made it easier for them to walk all over me.

Having died once, I finally understood that staying quiet only invited more abuse.

Seeing the neighbors whispering and pointing, my father's face darkened completely. He snapped at Logan.

"If she is hurt, take her to the urgent care clinic! Stop humiliating us on the front lawn!"

Logan stared at our father in shock. As the golden child who had never been reprimanded, he was stunned by the harsh tone.

He shot me a murderous glare, but Brianna's hysterical wailing forced him to scoop her up and rush toward the car.

My parents scurried after them like anxious servants. Neither of them bothered to ask if I was okay; they simply ordered me to stay behind and supervise the movers.

Bitterness settled deep in my chest. In my past life, nobody looked back as I lay broken on the ground.

Today, because their precious daughter-in-law had a minor injury, all three of my blood relatives rushed to her side without a second thought.

They did not care that my championship piano competition was starting in two hours. Not a single word of encouragement had been spoken.

I watched the moving truck drive away, took a deep breath, and walked inside. I changed into my formal concert dress and called an Uber straight to the auditorium.

This time, I was going to defend my own dreams. I would never beg for their hollow affection ever again.