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Seven Floors Down, Seven Years Back Novel Cover

Seven Floors Down, Seven Years Back

After jumping from a seventh-floor balcony on her wedding day, a woman watches from death as her fiancé, Magnus Gilmore, and her parents ignore her corpse to comfort a fake heiress. Realizing her family views her death as a mere inconvenience, she is consumed by the bitter truth of their indifference. However, fate intervenes, and she awakens seven years in the past. Returning to the day she first arrived home, she now possesses a chance to rewrite her tragic history.
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Chapter 3

"I'm not really into plush toys, thanks," I replied through the door, pulling out the books I'd brought from the countryside.

Life had given me a second chance, and I was determined to make the most of it. My top priority was to get stronger and stop depending on anyone else's love. I wanted to be able to love myself.

There were countless ways to practice self-love. At this moment, the best way to do that was by becoming accomplished and self-sufficient.

"Do you hate me, Cora?" Rosa's voice came through the door. "I know I shouldn't have taken your place. I'm just an outsider…"

I could tell she was saying this as Mom and Dad walked by.

As expected, Mom rushed to comfort her. "Don't think that way. Cora just needs time to get used to everything."

"Exactly. There's no such thing as being an outsider. You're both my daughters," Dad said.

I scoffed. Lies. I was the outsider here.

After everything quieted down, I checked the money my relatives had given me to mark my return to the family. To my surprise, it was over 100 thousand dollars.

That amount meant a lot to me. I needed to keep it for a rainy day. So, I headed to the nearest bank to take care of it.

As soon as I stepped into the lobby, I spotted a man in a perfectly tailored suit talking to the bank manager. It was Magnus. It was the first time I'd seen him since coming back to life.

He recognized me instantly and eyed me coldly. "Cora Jagger?"

I nodded.

The bank manager scurried over, eager to please. "Oh, Mr. Gilmore, so this is your—"

"Mind your own business," Magnus interrupted sharply.

The manager retreated awkwardly.

"What are you doing here?" Magnus asked.

"Making a deposit," I replied, walking straight to the teller.

"For that tiny amount?" He scoffed. "Whenever Rosa needs to save, she just gives it to Mr. and Mrs. Jagger. You're really something else."

I stayed quiet.

Magnus sneered. "I never thought someone your age could be so calculating. Here's some advice—save your money however you want, but don't even think about touching anything in your house."

He was exactly the same as he had been in my previous life. Back then, I had barely been home for a week when someone's diamond bracelet went missing.

Magnus accused me of stealing it. He believed I had no morals, was driven only by money, and was a walking disaster.

I never expected that even though the bracelet hadn't gone missing yet in this life, he'd already judged me guilty. But I couldn't care less to argue. All I wanted was to save my money.

Magnus snorted and walked away.

That night, the whole family gathered in the living room. They were trying to help me decide on a school, scrolling through brochures from different private academies on the tablet.

"I want to go to Lucentdale High School," I said bluntly.

It was a regular, unremarkable public school.

My plan was simple—graduate high school, get into university, and leave this house for good. I had no desire to live the life of a high-society heiress.

Mom and Dad both looked surprised.

Rosa's eyes glinted with a trace of smugness. "Cora, we don't have to settle for a regular high school. We can apply directly to top foreign schools."

"That's right, Cora," Mom said, gently patting my hand. "You should go with Rosa to Greenlake International School. We've taken care of everything."

Dad opened his mouth as if to speak, but then hesitated, his expression torn.

I knew exactly what was on his mind. In my previous life, I went to Greenlake International School and quickly became the butt of everyone's jokes.

It wasn't because I was exceptional, but because I—someone from the countryside—stood out like a sore thumb among the privileged crowd. And once they found out I was a Jagger, the buzz only grew.

Students crowded around, eager to catch a glimpse of the Jagger heiress, only to be disappointed when they saw a scrawny, sunburned girl from the countryside.

Unsurprisingly, their mockery came fast and cruel.

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