The Heiress Returns: Too Late For Your Regret

Adela walked into her bedroom and pushed the door shut.

Her body instantly lost all its strength.

She slid down the wooden door panel and hit the floor.

The freezing pool water and the harsh wind outside had sent her core temperature skyrocketing.

Her skin felt like it was on fire.

She forced herself to stand up, her legs shaking, and walked over to her desk.

She opened her old Apple laptop.

The cold blue light from the screen illuminated her unnaturally flushed cheeks.

Her vision swam, the glowing lines of code blurring into a chaotic mess. The high fever compromised her motor skills, making her trembling fingers hit the wrong keys twice. She painstakingly retyped the commands, her breathing shallow and ragged. She dug her nails into her thigh, using the sharp sting of pain to anchor her fading consciousness.

She bypassed the Franks family's internal network firewall through sheer willpower rather than ease.

She logged into the independent trust fund account her mother had left her before she died.

The screen displayed the strict conditions.

She had to turn eighteen, or receive an early admission letter from an Ivy League university, to unlock the principal funds.

Adela stared at the admission requirements for Yale University.

Her brain throbbed violently against her skull from the fever.

A loud knock echoed from the door.

Brenda, the head maid, pushed the door open without waiting for an answer, holding a silver tray.

Brenda saw Adela typing on the computer, and a calculating, spying look flashed in her eyes.

She slammed the tray down onto the nightstand.

The metal hit the wood with a sharp, annoying crash.

"Master Preston ordered me to bring you these fever pills," Brenda said, her tone dripping with disrespect.

She crossed her arms.

"The young masters are not home tonight. They took Miss Kalyn to a private hospital in Manhattan for a full-body checkup."

Brenda's words were a deliberate insult, reminding Adela that she was nothing but a nuisance.

Adela did not turn her head.

Her eyes remained locked on the glowing screen.

"Put it down and get out," Adela said, her voice freezing cold.

Brenda flinched at the sudden authority in Adela's tone.

She rolled her eyes in frustration and marched out of the room.

Adela walked over to the nightstand.

She stared at the two cheap, over-the-counter fever pills sitting in the small cup.

Memories from her past life flooded her mind.

Brenda used to crush heavy psychiatric sedatives into her medication to keep her docile and asleep.

Adela picked up the cup, walked straight into the bathroom, and flushed the pills down the toilet.

She walked back to her desk and slapped a physical cooling gel patch onto her burning forehead.

She opened the academic portal for her elite prep school.

She pulled up her transcript from the previous semester.

In her past life, she had purposely scored a C in AP Biology just to make sure Kalyn looked smarter.

Adela placed her hands on the keyboard and started typing an email to the school administration.

She requested an immediate retake of the exam.

The fever made her vision blur, the words on the screen doubling.

She dug her fingernails hard into her thigh, using the sharp pain to keep herself awake.

Outside the window, a heavy autumn rain began to fall, hitting the glass with dull thuds.

At exactly three in the morning, Adela finally clicked the send button on the email.

She closed the laptop.

Her body completely gave out, and she collapsed forward onto the desk.

Her mind raced, listing the independent tasks she had to complete at school tomorrow.

Burning with a high fever, she closed her eyes and fell into a shallow, restless sleep.