Chapter 4

The drive back to our small home was quiet.

David finally broke the silence. "What did she mean, Ava? About me... ending up a cripple?"

I took a deep breath. It was time.

That evening, I told David everything. About my first life, about my marriage to Mike, about building the farm.

I told him about his accident, how he' d saved the plant but lost his mobility, how Chloe had abandoned him.

I told him about Chloe' s jealousy, her affair, and how she' d murdered me.

And I told him about waking up, back at the engagement party, with Chloe also reborn, determined to steal the life she thought I' d had so easily.

He listened, his expression shifting from disbelief to a dawning horror, then to a quiet, steady anger.

His parents, Mr. and Mrs. Peterson, came over the next day. I repeated my story, my voice trembling at times, but I didn't hold back.

Mrs. Peterson, a retired nurse with a sharp mind and kind eyes, listened intently.

When I spoke of my mother's death – officially an overdose of prescription painkillers after my birth, when she was supposedly suffering from post-partum depression – Mrs. Peterson' s brow furrowed.

"Sharon controlled her medication," I said, a fact I' d pieced together from hazy childhood memories and my adult understanding in my first life. "My mother was sad, yes, but she loved me. She wouldn't have left me."

Mrs. Peterson nodded slowly. "Overdoses can be... convenient, for some people."

A new, chilling suspicion began to form, a thread connecting Sharon's greed to tragedies I had never fully questioned.

The Petersons didn't doubt me. They saw the truth in my eyes, in the pain I carried.

David held my hand, his grip strong and reassuring. "We're with you, Ava. Whatever you need."

Their support was a fortress around me.

A few weeks later, the storm that was Chloe broke again.

She' d had a miscarriage. She blamed Mike, the stress, everything but her own reckless choices.

Consumed by rage and grief, she drove to the farmers' market and systematically destroyed my stall.

She overturned tables, smashed crates of my carefully grown vegetables, tore down my "Ava's Organics" sign, screaming incoherently.

By the time I arrived, summoned by a frantic call from another vendor, the scene was one of devastation.

Sharon was there, trying to placate the market manager, offering a pittance for the damage.

"She's just upset, Ava," Sharon pleaded, avoiding my eyes. "She doesn't have any money."

"That's not my problem, Sharon," I said, my voice cold. "She destroyed my property. She will pay for it."

David stepped forward, his arm around my waist. "Every cent, Sharon. Or we'll call the police and press charges."

His voice was firm, leaving no room for argument.

Chloe, her face streaked with dirt and tears, lost all control.

She whirled on David, her eyes wild.

"You! You were supposed to be mine! She stole you! She stole my life!"

Her words, raw and revealing, hung in the air. Another slip, another confirmation of her reborn knowledge for anyone astute enough to catch it.

Just then, Mike arrived, stumbling, reeking of cheap beer.

"What the hell's going on?" he slurred, looking at the mess, then at Chloe.

"You useless drunk!" Chloe shrieked, turning her fury on him. "This is all your fault!"

Mike, instead of cowering, puffed up his chest.

"My fault? You're the one who wanted this! You're the one who's crazy!" he shouted, his words slurring but his anger clear. He publicly aired their dirty laundry, humiliating Chloe in front of everyone.

The market manager finally called the sheriff.

Chloe was escorted away, still screaming threats and accusations.

Sharon looked defeated, finally realizing she couldn't control her daughter's destructive path.

Standing amidst the ruin of my stall, David held me close.

"We'll rebuild," he said. "And she won't get away with this."

I knew then that my new life, despite Chloe' s attempts to destroy it, was built on a foundation far stronger than anything she could ever comprehend.