The last thing Serena remembered was the searing pain in her abdomen, the sensation of life slipping away from her like sand through clenched fingers. She had died. She knew it. But now, as she blinked her eyes open to the pale morning light streaming through unfamiliar curtains, her breath hitched in confusion.
"Where... am I?" she whispered, her voice hoarse, as though she hadn't spoken in days.
Her hands shook as she pushed herself up from the soft mattress, her heart racing. Everything felt so... different. Her body wasn't in agony anymore. There were no bruises, no blood. She looked down, half-expecting to see the gory remnants of her final moments. But all she saw was smooth, unblemished skin.
She stood up, her legs unsteady, and walked toward the mirror on the opposite side of the room. What she saw made her gasp.
"This can't be real..."
The woman staring back at her was herself, but younger. Her face, which had been gaunt and hollowed from months of torment, was now fresh, radiant. Her long, dark hair, which Damian had once yanked so hard it had torn from her scalp, cascaded over her shoulders like silk. There were no scars, no bruises.
No signs of the life she had lost.
Serena's fingers trembled as they touched her reflection. "Am I dreaming?" She squeezed her eyes shut and opened them again. Nothing changed.
Her mind was racing, trying to make sense of it all. The last thing she remembered was Damian. His sneer, his rage. His fists raining down on her body.
The memory came crashing back, and with it, the vivid, horrifying images of her death.
"You've ruined everything!" Damian had screamed, his voice raw with fury. "I should've never married you!"
Serena had barely been able to lift her head, her vision blurred from the repeated blows. Her body was a canvas of purple and blue bruises, her ribs cracked, her lips split. She had been begging for mercy, her heart pounding in fear—not for herself, but for the baby growing inside her.
"Please... Damian... the baby..." she had whispered, the words tasting of blood on her tongue.
But Damian's eyes had been wild, filled with nothing but hatred. "I don't care about your child, Serena! You're worthless. You've always been worthless!"
His fist had collided with her face once more, and she had felt the sharp crack of her nose breaking, the warm, thick blood pouring down her chin. She had tried to scream, but the sound had been weak, strangled.
Then he had kicked her—hard—right in her abdomen. The pain was indescribable. White-hot agony that ripped through her like fire.
Serena had collapsed, clutching her stomach, her vision going black around the edges. She had known then that it was over. She had lost. The baby... her precious baby...
But that hadn't been the worst of it.
When Damian had finally stormed out, leaving her crumpled on the cold floor like a discarded doll, Elara had entered.
Her sister.
The woman who had stolen everything from her. The woman who had taken her husband, her life, and now—now she was going to take her child.
"Poor Serena," Elara had crooned, crouching beside her, her fingers tracing the outline of Serena's bloodied face. "Always so weak. Always so pathetic." Her lips had twisted into a malicious grin. "You really thought you could hold onto him, didn't you?"
Serena had tried to speak, to plead, but her voice had been too weak.
Elara had leaned in close, her breath hot against Serena's ear. "It's too bad you couldn't protect your baby."
Serena's heart had stuttered. Her baby. No. NO!
Elara's eyes had glinted with twisted pleasure as she pulled out a small, gleaming knife. "Let's see if you're carrying anything worth keeping."
Serena had screamed then, but it had been too late. Elara's hand had come down, the blade slicing through her skin, through her abdomen, cutting her open like a butcher at work.
"STOP! ELARA, STOP!" Serena had cried, but her voice had been drowned out by Elara's mad laughter.
Blood. There had been so much blood.
And then, Elara had done the unthinkable. She had reached inside, her fingers stained red, and...
Serena had felt herself fading, the world slipping away as the pain overwhelmed her.
The memory made her stomach twist, her heart pounding in her chest. She had died. She was sure of it. But if that was true, how was she here? Alive? Whole?
Serena's knees buckled, and she sank onto the edge of the bed, clutching her head. "This can't be happening. I should be dead. I should be—"
But before she could finish the thought, another memory surfaced. One she hadn't been able to recall before.
Alexander.
She had been dying, her body a wreck of pain and blood, but before the darkness had fully claimed her, he had appeared. His face, normally so calm, had been twisted with grief and desperation as he knelt beside her broken form.
"Serena..." His voice had cracked, and she had felt his hands on her, shaking her as though trying to rouse her from the brink of death. "No, no, no... this can't be happening..."
She had barely been able to open her eyes, her vision blurry, but she had seen the tears streaming down his face. Alexander... crying...
"I'm sorry," he had whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I should've told you. I should've protected you. I should've—"
His lips had pressed against her forehead, a kiss so tender it had almost broken her heart. "I love you, Serena. I always have."
She had wanted to respond, to tell him she had always admired him, too, but the words had died on her lips as the coldness of death swept over her.
His last words had been the final sound she had heard before everything had gone black.
"If I could take your place... I would. I'd die for you, Serena."
Serena gasped, her heart pounding in her chest. Alexander had loved her.
But he had been too late to save her.
And yet... here she was.
Her eyes darted around the room. Was this real? Could it be real?
She scrambled out of the bed, her body trembling as she raced toward the door. "No... no, this can't be happening..." She flung the door open and ran down the hallway, her bare feet slapping against the cool hardwood floor. The house seemed... different. But familiar. As if she had been here before, yet it wasn't quite the same.
She burst into the kitchen, her heart racing as she saw her mother sitting at the table, sipping tea. Her mother looked younger, healthier, her face free of the lines that had marred it in the years before Serena's death.
"Mom!" Serena shouted, her voice cracking with desperation.
Her mother looked up, startled. "Serena? What's wrong, dear?"
Serena's eyes were wide, her breathing rapid. "What year is it? Please, just tell me!"
Her mother frowned, confused by the outburst. "It's 2021, Serena. Why are you—"
"2021?!" Serena's voice broke, her hands shaking. She stumbled back, clutching the edge of the counter for support. "No... that's... that's three years ago..."
She had died in 2024.
Her heart pounded in her chest, the realization crashing down on her like a tidal wave. She had been reborn. Given a second chance.
As the truth settled in, a mixture of fear and exhilaration coursed through her veins. She had a second chance. A chance to stop everything before it all went wrong.
Before Damian.
Before Elara.
Before the torment.
"I'm alive," she whispered to herself, her voice trembling. "I'm alive..."
But as the enormity of the situation sunk in, so did the weight of what lay ahead.
This time, she would be ready.
"I am reborn? I can't believe it, I guess the creator of the universe also felt pity on me! I will make them repay for everything!!"
"THAT'S IT! I WON'T LET THEM DESTROY ME AGAIN."