
After Rebirth, I Took Back Everything from the Evil Real Heiress
Chapter 2
I clearly saw Dwayne walk out the front gate, then spit on the ground behind him, cursing under his breath with his mouth twisted in anger.
But that vicious look in his eyes turned to sheer terror in an instant. A few men stepped out from the shadows, grabbed him, and dragged him away. Someone clamped a hand over his mouth as they shoved him into a van.
Leisurely, I took out my phone and texted the loan shark.
“Make sure he can’t get out of bed for a few days. Don’t kill him though. Dead men can’t pay back what they owe.”
In my past life, Dwayne kept throwing me to those loan sharks, their harassment calls coming day and night. I never thought they’d one day be useful to me.
“You’re really not going to see your own father? Aren’t you even a little curious how he’s living now?” Morgan stood alone on the stairs. Mrs. Hart had already disappeared. As expected, once there was no one to watch her, she shed that pitiful, weak façade and revealed the aggressive woman underneath.
“If you’re so willing, I can send you back to keep him company.”
“But right now, you’re his daughter!”
“And you were his daughter for over ten years. How come you never thought about helping him then?”
Watching her choke on her words, I couldn’t help finding it amusing.
“Get some sleep. Your new life is only just beginning.”
I attended a certain private elite school, and soon enough, the Hart family had Morgan transferred in as well.
“Hey, she looks really familiar. Isn’t that the part-timer from the café at the gate?”
“Now that you mention it, she does look like her.”
“You’re kidding. Is campus security really this lax now? Just anyone can walk in?”
Morgan had dropped out of school in middle school and, before being recognized and taken home, she’d been working odd jobs outside our school.
In my previous life, it was the same. The Harts spent a fortune to send her here, yet she still never received any real respect. Rumors about her spread all over campus.
And she took all that anger out on me.
Back then, I’d just recovered from my injuries and returned to school. She constantly hovered around me, fussing over me, so attentive that I started doubting what I’d heard before falling into a coma and actually believed in her act of “sisterly affection.”
Then she tricked me into the second-floor bathroom stall, bullied me, and took a photo afterward to upload to the school forum.
It was a photo of me with my hair hanging loose, slumped on the bathroom floor, covered in shit and piss.
Over and over, the memory tortured me. It was impossible to forget.
“Selene, I forgot my pads. Can you bring some into the bathroom for me?”
Morgan’s message popped up on my phone.
My fingers actually trembled with excitement as I typed.
“Sure.”
“Thanks! Second stall on the left on the second floor. I’ll be waiting!” she replied almost instantly.
As soon as I walked into the bathroom, I headed straight for the stall at the very end, slipped inside, and let out a piercing scream.
Sure enough, I immediately heard Morgan rushing in. She hurried over and yanked open the door of the second stall.
A bucket of shit and piss came crashing down over her head.
Her scream was even louder than mine.
I stepped out and stared at her carefully—at her dripping hair, the filth soaking through her clothes—then couldn’t hold back my laughter.
When the image of my past self from that photo was completely replaced by Morgan’s current state, I laughed so hard my eyes stung.
“Didn’t you say the second stall?” she gasped, retching, her eyes filled with suspicion.
“Did I? Guess I misread it. I was in a hurry. So… do you still want these?” I held out the pads I’d prepared in my bag.
She glanced at me twice, then, guilty and flustered, took them from my hand.
I tilted my head and smiled. “Looks like you’ll be in here for a while. I’ll head out first.”
Outside, the sky was still a clear, brilliant blue, not a cloud in sight.
I stood in the sunlight, exhaling the stale air in my chest, steadying my racing heart.
Morgan, the reason I didn’t take a picture isn’t because I’m merciful.
It’s because what I’m after has nothing to do with your already ruined reputation.
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