Chapter 2: New Family
New York, Midtown Manhattan – 1998, Steel Family House
In the cozy kitchen of a well-kept home, a woman in her early 30s with striking blue eyes, golden blonde hair, and a curvy figure busied herself preparing breakfast. Her movements were brisk yet graceful as she packed a lunchbox for her son. The aroma of freshly cooked eggs and toast filled the air.
Leaning casually against the doorway, a man in his late 30s watched her with a soft smile. His sharp gray eyes, chiseled jawline, and a thin scar on his forehead hinted at a rugged past. His dark hair was neatly combed, and he exuded a quiet confidence. Folding his arms, he admired his wife for a moment before walking up to her silently. Wrapping his arms around her from behind, he whispered playfully, "You look beautiful today, honey."
The woman turned, smirking. "Only today? Not every day?"
The man chuckled. "My mistake. You're beautiful every single day."
She laughed lightly and leaned in to kiss him. As his hands drifted to her waist, she swatted him away. "Not here, Thomas. Later tonight, maybe. Ian might see us."
Thomas sighed in mock annoyance. "Fine, later. Speaking of Ian, is he up yet?"
Roselyn shook her head. "He's upstairs getting ready. Probably organizing his books like he always does."
But her patience wore thin as the minutes passed. "Ian! Come down for breakfast, or you'll be late for school!" she called, her voice tinged with frustration.
From upstairs came the faint reply, "I'm coming, Mom! Just a second!"
However, Ian didn't make it to the kitchen. Halfway down the stairs, the ten-year-old boy, with gray eyes like his father's and dark hair that matched, suddenly clutched his head. A sharp, excruciating pain struck him, and blood began trickling from his nose. He stumbled and collapsed on the floor.
In the kitchen, Roselyn was still chatting with Thomas, unaware of what had happened. It wasn't until she called Ian again and received no response that she walked toward the stairs. Her heart dropped when she saw her son lying motionless, blood staining his face.
"Ian!" she screamed, rushing to his side. "Honey, wake up! Wake up!"
Thomas bolted to the scene, his face paling as he took in the sight. Roselyn's voice trembled as she said, "He's not waking up! He's bleeding!"
"Get the car. I'll carry him," Thomas ordered, lifting Ian into his arms.
Roselyn sprinted to start the car, and within moments, they were speeding toward the hospital. In the backseat, Roselyn cradled her son's head, whispering through her tears, "Stay with us, baby. Mommy's here. You'll be okay."
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At the Hospital
The car screeched to a halt outside the emergency entrance. Roselyn jumped out, carrying Ian in her arms. "Help! Somebody, please help!" she cried, her voice echoing in the sterile corridors.
Nurses hurried over, their expressions calm but alert. "We've got him, ma'am," one said, taking Ian from her arms.
Roselyn explained the situation as best as she could, her voice shaking. "Please, save him. He's only ten."
Thomas joined her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "He'll be fine," he said, though his voice betrayed his worry. "Ian's strong."
In the emergency room, Ian slowly began to regain consciousness. The bright lights above him made him squint as his vision adjusted. He blinked and turned his head, spotting Roselyn beside him.
"Mom?" he croaked, tears welling in his eyes. Memories of his past life flooded back all at once. He remembered everything—his old life, his mother Raelyn, and the reincarnation.
Roselyn's heart broke at the sight of her son crying. She leaned over and hugged him tightly. "It's okay, baby. Mommy's here. You're safe."
Thomas stepped closer, his voice thick with emotion. "Welcome back, son," he said, joining the embrace.
Ian—or rather, Ray, though he now fully accepted his new identity as Ian—felt a sense of peace. This life was different. He had a loving family and a second chance.
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The Diagnosis
The doctor entered shortly after, speaking quietly with Thomas and Roselyn outside the room.
"Your son is fine," the doctor assured them. "It was likely a severe migraine that caused the collapse and nosebleed. We've run an MRI, and there's nothing abnormal in his brain. He just needs rest."
Relieved, Roselyn asked, "When can he come home?"
"He can be discharged tomorrow," the doctor replied.
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Back Home
The next day, Ian was discharged from the hospital and returned home. He stepped out of the car and took a moment to admire the house. It was a grand, elegant property with four bedrooms, three bathrooms, and a stunning view of Midtown Manhattan.
From his memories, Ian recalled that his grandfather owned the Hardy Shipping Industry, a massive business empire. Though Roselyn came from wealth, she was fiercely independent and worked hard as a movie producer, determined to build her career without her father's money.
His father, Thomas, was a retired soldier and now ran his own successful law firm, the Steel Firm Agency. Despite their wealth, the family maintained strong values, frequently giving back to the community and supporting orphanages.
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Dreams of the Future
Later that day, Ian sat in his room, which was neat and well-decorated. A Star Wars poster hung on the wall, and toy lightsabers leaned in the corner. The view from his window was breathtaking, overlooking the bustling city below.
As he lay on his bed, he began to think seriously about his future. I want to become an actor. A great one.
His thoughts were interrupted when Roselyn walked in, carrying a tray of his favorite soup.
"Honey, are you okay?" she asked, noticing his thoughtful expression.
Ian snapped out of his daydream. "I'm fine, Mom."
"Good," she said, setting the tray down. "Here's your soup—green onion, eggs, and some meat, just how you like it."
As he ate, Ian said, "Mom, I've been thinking…I want to become an actor."
Roselyn blinked, surprised. "An actor? At your age, you're already thinking about your career?"
Ian nodded earnestly. "I love how actors bring stories to life. I want to be the best—Hollywood's top actor."
Roselyn smiled warmly. "If that's what you want, we'll support you. But you'll need to attend acting school to develop your skills."
Thomas entered the room, catching the tail end of the conversation. "What's this about acting?"
"Ian wants to be an actor," Roselyn said.
Thomas grinned. "Well, son, if that's your dream, we'll stand by you."
Ian's heart swelled with gratitude. "Thank you, Mom. Thank you, Dad. I'll make you both proud."
In his mind, Ian resolved: This is my new life, and I will make the most of it.
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