Reborn: Climbing to Life's Pinnacle

In the math exam, I did my usual routine—filled out the whole sheet but brilliantly avoided all the right answers.

That night, for once, my penny-pinching dad invited me to have dinner at the table.

I pushed around the potato, spying on the scanty strips of bacon at the bottom of the plate.

All pale and greasy—enough to turn anyone's stomach.

To him, this was generosity; typically, I'd be stuck in a corner with some bland soup and some pickles.

Back then, too timid to protest, I thought I had to step aside for her because I was the older sister.

Turns out, stepping aside nearly got me killed.

I took a bite of the potato, only to discover it was stale.

Instantly lost my appetite.

Over at Brittany's spot, her plate was a mountain of drumsticks and shrimp.

I slammed down my utensils and pointed straight at her plate. "I want what she's having."

Dad jumped, frowning and snapping, "You trying to scare me to death, you little jerk?"

"Would serve you right," I snapped back, undeterred. "That's the plate I want."

Brittany put on a show of being scared, her eyes welling up with crocodile tears.

"If Quinn wants it, let's switch," she said, voice dripping with faux sweetness.

"But you know I've got a stomach issue. Just potato won't cut it for me, not with the SATs tomorrow..."

Dad was totally buying her act, making her look like an angel and me, the villain.

The stark difference between us just fueled my rage even more.

He slammed his fork and was about to grab me, his hand poised to strike.

But I dodged and started running circles around the room, leaving him chasing after me with that fat and greasy body.

He lumbered after me, and after a couple of laps, he was gasping for breath, slowing down.

As I made a dash past the table, a foot suddenly shot out to trip me.

It was clearly a move that was meant for my life.

I went with the flow, stepping hard on it.

A piercing scream filled the room.

I feigned shock, staggered, and in a swift move, flipped the table.

The uproar of Dad's yelling and Brittany's shrieks were muffled by the crashing dishes and breaking wood.

They turned slowly, their expressions shifting from disbelief to shock as they looked at me.

How had the quiet girl from earlier transformed into this spitfire?

I'd intended to keep up my act till the SATs were done, but pushed to my limit, I wasn't holding back any longer.

If I kept my mouth shut any longer, I'd probably be signing my death warrant—again.

I grabbed a shard of glass and pressed it against my neck, the blood starting to seep out.

Brittany instantly looked panicked, her facade crumbling.

How could I afford to get hurt now?

If something happened to me, what would become of her pristine SAT scores and her shiny future?

She might want to rip me apart, but at this moment, she couldn't lay a finger on me.

Her face turned the color of spoiled wine, which was oddly satisfying to see.

With one hand holding the glass to my neck, I pointed another shard at that good-for-nothing dad of ours.

Thinking back to how he'd conspired with his girlfriend to dump his wife and daughter, my eyes blazed with hatred.

"Anybody crosses me today goes down with me. My dying is no big deal, but what about your darling daughter's rep?"

Imagine the headlines: [Teen Girl Dies Mysteriously at Home on Exam Day.] Even if Brittany scored top of the state, she'd get dragged through the mud online.