Chapter 2

Jessica's voice was shrill, cutting through the party music.

"You just want to control everything!"

Brenda, her mother, Mark' s ex-wife, rushed to her side, dabbing at imaginary tears.

"Oh, my poor baby, don't upset yourself. Sarah means well, I'm sure."

She shot me a look, a mix of fake sympathy and triumph.

In my first life, I' d tried to placate Jessica, tried to understand.

Now, I just felt a cold calm.

I looked at Jessica, really looked at her. The entitled brat who would grow into a cold-hearted woman, rationing my care.

"Control, Jessica?" I said, my voice even. "Or perhaps, I'm just tired of funding a lifestyle you don't appreciate and a future you'll squander?"

Jessica stared, mouth open. This wasn't the reaction she expected.

Mark, ever the charismatic manipulator, stepped in, placing a hand on my arm.

"Sarah, darling, you're not well. You're overwrought."

His touch felt like a brand. I remembered him telling doctors I was unresponsive, while I screamed in my silent mind.

"I'm perfectly fine, Mark," I said, pulling my arm away. "Just seeing things very clearly for the first time in a long time."

His eyes narrowed. He didn't like this.

I remembered Jessica from my "future" memories. She didn't want the expensive private college because she was ambitious. No, she wanted it for the status, to party, to avoid any real work. She'd drop out, just like before.

All that money, my money, wasted.

My past sacrifices for these children, trying to be a good stepmother, giving them everything Mark said they needed, it was all for nothing. They saw me as a bank, and when the bank was open, they were happy. When it threatened to close, they turned vicious.

I was always on the edge of their family, the outsider who paid the bills.

"Actually," I said, a small smile playing on my lips, "I do feel a bit unwell. All this excitement."

I gave a pointed look at Jessica, then at Brenda, whose supportive co-parent act was award-winningly deceitful.

Brenda, who would later remarry Mark once my money was gone, only to live a miserable life with him.

Mark tried again, his voice oozing false concern. "Let me get you something, help you inside."

"No, thank you, Mark," I said. "I can manage."

He started to say something about my "condition," the supposed fragility that had been his excuse for everything.

But I was already turning away.

I saw the years of his gaslighting, his emotional abuse, his careful construction of my helplessness. It all paraded before my eyes.

The paralysis, the infertility – lies built on lies.

I wouldn't be his victim again.

As I walked towards the house, I heard Mark hiss at Jessica, "What did you say to her?"

Brenda was cooing, "She's just stressed, dear."

The old script. But the lead actress was going off-book.