Reborn Beyond Their Remorse

Jolted back to the present, I fixed my gaze on Andrea. "Sorry, can't make it. I've got a business trip lined up right after this."

Her hand shot out to clutch mine, and she pleaded, "Come on. This is our one special day together every year. Are you really going to skip it?"

Andrea was away at art school most of the time, and our 'sisterly' moments were rare, making her plea even more manipulative.

Brent's face darkened with disapproval. "Andrea is bending over backward here, and you're gonna play hardball?"

Fiona pulled Andrea into a protective embrace, sparing me not even a glance. "Only Andrea would bother to include you. What kind of dead-end job drags you away on a birthday?"

My career wasn't flashy. I ran an online clothing boutique.

In the early days, I'd rise before dawn to source inventory, often standing at my stall until dusk without a single sale.

Then I'd ridden the e-commerce boom, scaling up into a thriving business that lifted our family out of hardship.

Andrea burrowed deeper into Fiona's arms. "Ease up on Claudia. She is the breadwinner of our family."

Her words were like gasoline on Brent's macho pride, his face contorting as veins pulsed in his forehead.

"Breadwinner? What's a few bucks from peddling rags gonna do?" he snorted.

My eyes met Andrea's, and I caught the triumphant sparkle in them.

She always knew how to stoke his ego into a blaze, but I kept my tone neutral, refusing to take the bait. "Yeah, maybe I got ahead of myself."

Andrea had mastered the art of puppeteering our parents since childhood.

When she whined about school cafeteria food, they yanked her out for home-cooked meals, while I, enrolled in the same school, got stuck as a boarder.

My dorm mates assumed I hailed from some distant town, unaware that my home was a mere mile away.

As the distance grew, so did the emotional chasm between my parents and me. I became a ghost in my own family.

I pivoted to leave, but Fiona hurried after me, tugging at my sleeve. "Claudia, are you upset? Birthdays are for family time. Put work aside for a while."

"I'm not," I replied, my words clipped and emotionless.

The room fell silent, shock rippling across their faces.

That was because, in my past life, I'd have erupted, yelling, slamming doors, and shattering vases for their attention.

Now, their opinions held no power over me.

Fiona shifted uncomfortably. She fished out a dainty bracelet and slid it onto my wrist with forced enthusiasm. "Don't think we play favorites. You're our daughter, too. We love you both equally."

Her words rang hollow.

No sooner had they settled than a deliberate clatter echoed from the table.

Andrea clutched her hand, whining, "Ow! This bracelet is way too clunky. It bashed my hand."

Her smug glance at me spoke volumes.

The burn on my hand from the wax still throbbed, but I ignored it, slipping out as they swarmed around her in a frenzy of concern.