After Her Wild Dawn

My younger sister was crazy about novels and always envied the way ordinary heroines pick up penniless heroes and climb the social ladder.

So, she started picking up men wherever she could.

Until one day, a man with a face covered in sores collapsed at our doorstep.

I instantly recognized the signs of syphilis and warned my sister repeatedly, and only then did she give up the idea.

However, fate had other plans: my sister's best friend "picked him up" instead and married into a wealthy family.

My sister held a grudge. On my birthday, she locked me in my room and set it on fire.

No matter how desperately I begged, she refused to open the door. Outside, she sneered:

"I know you're just scared I'll live better than you, so you want to drag me down into misery with you. People like you don't even deserve to be a sister!"

I burned alive, my body reduced to nothing but ashes.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day my sister insisted on "picking up that man."

This time, I quietly stepped back, letting her have her way—of course, I chose to let her succeed.

The searing pain of the flames made thinking impossible. My hand was glued to the doorknob, pounding on the door, pleading with Silvia Brooks.

"Silvia, please, stop. It hurts so much! Open the door, I'm begging you."

Silvia's icy voice cut through the chaos, ringing in my ears.

"Oh, Joanna–so high and mighty, so impressive, huh? You cost me my shot at being a lady of leisure. Now, while someone else is living the high life, you just want to drag me down with you, to waste away! You deserve what's coming to you!"

I had convinced myself the fire was a freak accident, but it was Silvia's cruel intention all along.

Smoke invaded my lungs, each breath burning like fire. I could not muster the strength to fight Silvia anymore. The flames were swallowing me whole, and I crumpled to the ground, the door remaining shut.

If only I had known that my good intentions would lead to that, I would have stayed out of it.

Suddenly, a blinding light hit me. Blinking my eyes open, I saw Silvia right there, pointing at a battered man by the door, gasping in surprise.

"Joanna! Could this be the down-and-out heir? You know, like in those stories where the heroine saves a wounded guy, and he turns out to be some rich dude with amnesia. And then, bam–she's marrying into money and moving up in the world!"

Silvia's excitement seemed like a distant dream.

Had I been given another shot at life?

In my previous life, it was around then that Silvia and I, coming home from work, found a man sprawled at our doorstep. Silvia was convinced it felt like a scene pulled from a novel.

Before that, she had even brought home escapees from the psych ward and beggars from under the bridge, but those stories never went anywhere.

Silvia was a sucker for novels, the kind where a high-and-mighty CEO fell head over heels for the girl next door. She was obsessed.

In the past, she would flirt with just about any guy she stumbled upon, leaving me to deal with the mess.

However, in a previous life, when she ran into that particular guy, my medical training kicked in. I spotted right away that he was infected with syphilis. So, when Silvia nearly got herself tangled up with him, I yanked her back and gave her a quick rundown on the risks of the disease.

She was rattled, no doubt, and even though she eventually understood, I could tell she was not happy about it.

Then, out of the blue, Silvia's BFF showed up, played the hero, and saved the guy. He was so grateful that he married her. It turned out, however, that he was the secret son of the richest guy in town, whose legit son had just died in a freak accident. With no one else to pass his empire to, the old man had to call on his hidden heir.

When Silvia found out, she blamed me, convinced I had ruined her shot at a life of luxury. She even cooked up a scheme to have me killed in a blaze.

In this life, I decided to ditch the hero act and just let people live their own lives.