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Rebirth: 24 Hours To Erase My 10-Year Nightmare Novel Cover

Rebirth: 24 Hours To Erase My 10-Year Nightmare

After a decade of servitude to a family that viewed her as a servant, the protagonist uncovers a horrifying truth: her marriage was a fraud and her parents were murdered for their wealth. Slain during a final confrontation, she inexplicably returns to the morning of her wedding. With only twenty-four hours to act, she must navigate a web of deceit involving her fiancé and twin sister. Her mission is clear: secure her inheritance, prevent a fatal accident, and cancel the ceremony.
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Chapter 4

A few hours later,by half past ten, I sat at my vanity, observing through the mirror as Loanne brushed my hair. Her hands trembled slightly. To her, I was still the “gentle” twin, just having some pre-wedding nerves. She didn’t realize I was watching her reflection like a hawk.

“Cassy,” she whispered, her voice dripping with faux concern. “About the trust... Silas is really hurt. He feels like you don’t believe he can protect you. You know how hard he’s worked to impress Dad.”

I stared at her through the glass. “He’s worked very hard, hasn’t he?”

I let the double meaning linger in the air. Loanne paused, her eyes darting to mine.

“I just want us to be a family,” I continued, softening my tone to match the old, breathy pitch she was used to. “I transferred the money into a private trust because I wanted to surprise Silas later. Once we’re settled, I’ll give him access. I just want to make sure everything is... legally sound. For our future kids.”

I could see the tension ease from her shoulders. She believed me. She thought I was just being a “good, cautious girl” instead of a suspicious woman.

“Oh! Well, that makes so much more sense,” Loanne giggled, the silver brush moving smoothly again. “He’ll be so relieved. You know how he is… he just wants to provide.”

He wants to plunder, I thought.

Downstairs, the guests were starting to arrive in the garden. Among them was the family lawyer, Mr. Henderson. An old man who had been loyal to my father for decades. In my previous life, Silas had convinced me to replace him with a “younger, trendier” firm within a year.

I found a moment to pull Mr. Henderson aside in the library.

“Mr. Henderson,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “I need you to do something for me. I’m signing the marriage documents today, but I want you to hold off on filing them for forty-eight hours. Tell Silas it’s a ‘clerical delay’ at the county office.”

The old man frowned. “That’s unusual, Cassie. Why?”

“I have a hunch about the Vance estate,” I explained, leaning in closer. “I want a full audit of the accounts Loanne has been managing for the gallery before the marriage is finalized. Just as a safety precaution.”

Henderson’s eyes sharpened. He had always been wary of Loanne’s expenditures. “I understand. If you insist, I can certainly fabricate a technical issue to delay the processing.”

“Thank you.”

As I walked back out, I ran into Silas. He looked dashing in his tuxedo, the perfect image of a groom. He grabbed my waist, pulling me into a corner.

“I talked to Loanne,” he whispered, his breath warm against my ear, the same ear she had whispered into as I lay dying. “I understand now, honey. You were just being cautious. I’m sorry I got upset.”

He kissed me deeply, reclaiming his territory. I didn’t pull away. I played along, letting my arms wrap around his neck, but inside, I was counting the seconds until I could scrub my mouth clean.

“I love you, Silas,” I lied, the words tasting like ash. “I can’t wait for our life to begin.”

“Neither can I,” he replied, casting a glance toward my father, who was handing his car keys to the valet, preparing the SUV for the mountain trip the following day.

The poison was already in the bottle. Now, I just needed to ensure they were the ones drinking it.

“Silas,” I said, adjusting his tie. “How about we have a pre-wedding toast? Just the three of us, in the study. Before heading to the altar.”

His eyebrows raised in surprise. “Now? The ceremony is set to start in thirty minutes.”

“Just a quick one,” I insisted, pouting. “For luck.”

“Anything for my bride,” he smirked.

He had no idea that while he was toasting to our “future,” I had already sent a silent alarm to my father’s mechanic.

More importantly, I had hidden a digital recorder under the velvet lining of the study sofa.

I needed them to say it. I needed proof that would ensure they never saw the light of day.

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