Chapter 3

A few days later, I saw Chloe looking at a flyer for a local beauty pageant.

Her eyes had that dreamy, unfocused look I remembered from my first life, right before she started making really bad choices.

"What's that?" I asked, sitting next to her on the porch steps.

"Oh, nothing," she mumbled, trying to hide it. "Just... a way to get noticed. Maybe get some sponsorships."

Brenda had been filling her head with nonsense about becoming an influencer, or better yet, catching the eye of some rich man. Anything that didn't involve hard work or genuine skill.

"Mom says if I win, Mr. Peterson down at the bank might introduce me to his nephew. He's a doctor," Chloe said, a little defensively.

Mr. Peterson's nephew was forty, twice divorced, and had a reputation.

"Chloe," I said gently. "Look at that old apple tree in the yard."

She glanced at it. It was ancient, gnarled, but still produced apples every year.

"See those apples on the lower branches?" I pointed. "They're easy to reach. Anyone can grab them. But a lot of them are bruised, or wormy, because they're so exposed, and they hit the ground hard if they fall."

She frowned, not getting it.

"Then look higher up," I continued. "The best apples, the big, shiny ones, they're way up there. You can't just reach out and grab them. You need to learn to climb the tree, or find a ladder, or maybe even build a tool to get them."

I paused. "It takes effort. It takes learning. But once you can get those apples, you can pick the best ones for yourself. You're not just taking whatever falls into your lap, or whatever someone else hands you because it's easy for them."

I looked at her. "Do you want to be an easy-to-pick, bruised apple, Chloe? Or do you want to learn how to get your own, perfect fruit from the top of the tree?"

She was quiet for a long time, just staring at the tree.

I didn't push. I'd planted a seed.

A week later, Chloe came to me, looking nervous.

"Ethan," she said, "I was thinking. That art program at the community college? The one for graphic design? I looked it up. It seems... interesting."

A small flame of hope ignited in my chest. In the first life, she'd scoffed at anything that sounded like actual work.

"That's great, Chloe," I said. "Graphic design is a real skill. You could make a good career out of it."

When Brenda heard, she exploded.

"Graphic design? Community college?" she shrieked, her voice echoing through the small house. "What a waste! You have a pretty face, Chloe! You should be using that! Not messing around with computers like some... some nerd!"

Chloe flinched but stood her ground. "I want to try it, Mom."

"Try it?" Brenda laughed, a harsh, ugly sound. "You'll fail, just like your brother is failing me! Ungrateful children, both of you! After everything I've sacrificed!"

She stormed off to her room, slamming the door.

Chloe looked at me, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and a new, fragile determination.

"She's... really angry," Chloe whispered.

"She's angry because she's losing control," I said. "But this is your life, Chloe. Not hers."

Chloe nodded slowly. "The apples, Ethan. I want to learn to get my own."

I smiled. Maybe, just maybe, I could save her this time.