Stolen Identity, True Revenge

Cold water hit my face, shocking me awake in the dingy back room of Oakhaven Eats. My son Leo stood over me, a dripping glass in his hand, his child's voice sharp with accusation. But I jolted awake with a searing memory: the Philadelphia alley in 2014, the freezing rain, Amelia's triumphant smile as I drew my last breath. Then, darkness-my death, nine years in the future. My mother-in-law, Carol Bishop, stormed in, her face a familiar mask of disapproval, instantly demanding my meager tips and shaming me for being a 'bum' compared to her 'hero firefighter' son Mark. The stench of stale grease and faded floral wallpaper confirmed this wasn't just a dream; it was indeed October 2005, a year after Mark's supposed heroic death. Every memory flooded back: raising Leo alone, enduring Carol's daily abuse and theft, and ultimately discovering Mark was alive, thriving in Philadelphia with Amelia, my adoptive sister. Amelia, the quiet girl I protected, who had systematically stolen my identity, my future, and even my heroic father's legacy. How could I be back? How could this elaborate deception, this cruel future I'd already survived and witnessed, now be my past? The echo of Amelia's taunts-"I took your SAT scores, your UPenn acceptance, even your father's story"-still stung with the force of betrayal. My own son, Leo, had disowned me in that alley, poisoned by their lies, abandoning me to my final moments. But in this inexplicable rebirth, the numbing despair I remembered was replaced by a burning fury, a cold, hard resolve. I was back, I was alive, and this time, the truth I knew would not be buried-it would be meticulously unearthed, weaponized. This time, they would pay for everything.