Chapter 1: Goodbye, My Happy Ending

The sky, wrapped in a thick, dark gray woolen shroud, seemed to close in like a predator circling its unsuspecting prey. It wasn't supposed to rain for another few weeks, but the ominous clouds told a different story. A low rumble echoed through the cool air, making her flinch slightly. Lazy droplets of rain began to fall, as if they had nothing better to do.

A lone figure, draped in a maroon silk gown, stood on the balcony of a dimly lit condo. In the background, Bach's "Cello Suite No. 1" played softly, its melancholic notes filling the room. The only light came from a computer screen inside, where a Weibo profile was open.

The profile belonged to Christina, who had posted something just thirty minutes earlier. The photo in the post was of a handwritten note, simple yet heavy with emotion:

"I guess it was just wishful thinking on my part that I spent years waiting for a happy ending. Now...

I'm just too tired..."

The post was brief, but it conveyed the deep feelings she had been too afraid to voice aloud.

As the weak, gray light from the overcast sky filtered down, it illuminated the figure of a young woman standing on the balcony. The cold wind brushed against her body, making her shiver, but she didn't move. Her dark eyes were hollow, and her pale skin had taken on a rosy hue from the chill in the air.

She extended her bare arm, letting the rain splash against her fingers. As the cold droplets traced paths down her hand, she turned her fingers upward, watching the water run down like tiny rivers. The rhythmic patter of the rain, combined with the mournful music behind her, created a strange sense of comfort.

She recalled a saying she'd read somewhere: "One day, your life will flash before your eyes, make sure it's worth watching."

Was her life worth watching? She pondered this, only to sneer at the absurdity of the thought.

"Christy, don't be delusional," a mocking voice echoed in her mind. "You're nothing more than a green tea bitch. Who cares that you're the pure goddess of the entertainment industry worshipped by millions?" The voice taunted her. "Look, I just proved to the world that you're nothing more than a lowly prostitute who slept her way up. Let's see how long you can hold on to your pride."

Was she really just a prostitute? She had worked tirelessly her entire life, all in the hopes of holding her head high among her upper-class peers. But now, after all her hard work, was this what it had come to? Despite being idolized and adored by millions, she was still nothing more than a prostitute in the eyes of the elite.

"Christina, you've left me with no pride. Is this why I raised you? I helped you become the top star just so you could ruin my name with your filthy scandals? What kind of crime did I commit to be burdened with an ungrateful and useless daughter like you?" Her mother's harsh words echoed in her mind, cutting deep.

She was a product of a broken family, leading a broken life, driven by broken dreams. And in the end, even he had left her with a broken heart.

She had known from the start that his status was far beyond her own, but that hadn't stopped her heart from falling for him. He had said, "I love you!" and the naive girl in her had believed him. He had

promised, "I will never let you be wronged," and she had trusted him. He had vowed, "In this life, only you deserve to be my wife," and she had foolishly believed every word.

But maybe she had needed a wake-up call. And unfortunately, the reality check had been too much for her already fragile heart to bear.

She laughed bitterly at herself, but the laughter quickly turned into a steady stream of tears that slid down her flushed cheeks. She covered her mouth, trying to stifle the sobs that threatened to escape. But how long can anyone suppress such deep-seated pain?

Behind her, the computer screen showed her post, already flooded with comments:

"I can't believe I loved you from the moment you debuted. Who knew you were such a vicious person?"

"Look, look! Our so-called pure goddess is trying to gain sympathy. But guess what? We don't care."

"The commenter above, I'm with you. This slut didn't even bother clearing up the scandals. Not that I was expecting her to be innocent."

"Chris, you let me down. I believed in you, but you let me down."

"Ha! You must really be tired after rolling around in bed with all those investors."

"I can't believe with that kind of character, you tried to steal someone's husband. How shameful of you!"

"Some people have no shame at all. You should just leave the industry already. You don't even deserve to be a mistress."

"Chris, if you like money so much, come to this young master. I have plenty of money to spend on you."

"Christina, just go and die already!"

On the cold, wet balcony, she stood with her eyes closed, as if she could hear all those voices screaming at her. She took a step forward, letting the wind and rain batter her body, hoping to numb the pain that had been eating away at her heart. The world didn't matter anymore; scorn always came with fame.

But what had truly shattered her were his words...

No matter how she had tried to explain, he wouldn't listen. She had begged him to trust her, but he hadn't. Was their love so fragile? So fragile that he couldn't even give her the one thing she asked for: trust.

As the rain soaked her to the bone, she stood motionless, refusing to let herself feel anything. She shut out all the noise and sighed softly.

"I wonder if you'll miss me if I'm gone. I wonder if you'll believe in me once I'm no longer here," she thought to herself as she climbed onto the wicker chair on the balcony, looking down.

From the twenty-fifth floor, everything below seemed distant and unreal, shrouded in darkness and shadowed by the gray clouds.

Closing her eyes, she smiled with a sense of finality. She leaned forward, and in the next instant, the strong wind slapped against her face as her body plummeted.

"Goodbye, my happy ending," she whispered softly through pale, trembling lips.

Chapter 2: Free From The Past

The darkness had relinquished its hold, giving way to a golden canopy as the sun rose, blooming like a flower on the horizon. Every shade of charcoal in the sky gradually transformed into vibrant hues, signaling the break of dawn. It was the dawn of endless possibilities, new hopes, and the desire to fulfill dreams that had been left behind the previous night.

Under white linen sheets, a tall, slender figure stretched before rolling out of the comfortable bed. She moved to pull back the thick curtains, revealing a pair of light honey-brown eyes that slowly blinked as they took in the sight of the rising sun. This was the sun of a new day, a day she had once believed might never come.

She allowed herself to savor the moment, letting the nascent rays of the sun caress her skin and soothe her very soul. There was a tranquility in this moment that filled her with warmth, reminding her once again that she was still alive.

As she trudged toward the bathroom, she paused when her gaze fell on the reflection in the mirror beside the closet door. She stepped closer, tucking a strand of her long brown hair behind her ear. The woman staring back at her didn’t look anything like the person she once was. Those honey-brown eyes were a stark contrast to her previous raven ones. The rosy lips, smooth and clear, and the delicate skin of her face were different from the face that had been hidden under layers of makeup for over a decade.

They say that after every painful ending, a new beginning is promised. She had never expected to get

a second chance at life, but she had been given one when she woke up in this body five years ago. Yet, even after all these years, she couldn’t quite bring herself to call this body her own. However, she was determined to make this life hers.

Life had once been a heavy burden, one that she eventually lost the strength to carry. One might think that a shattered heart would weigh lighter, but who knew that each broken piece could weigh down on her soul like a tremendous boulder? It had weighed her down so much that she had eventually let herself fall to her death.

Standing under the showerhead, she let the warm water comfort her broken self, washing away the remnants of the past.

After her shower, she dressed in a pair of white high-waist sailor bell-bottoms and a beige full-sleeve blouse. She slipped on a pair of elegant pumps and fastened a golden watch on her wrist, matching the gold buttons on her blouse. With her long hair tied up in a professional bun, she picked up her purse and put on her thick-rimmed glasses before leaving her room. The only thought in her mind was,

*"Let’s pick up another piece of our heart today and start over. Fighting!"*

This had become a routine—reminding herself each day that she needed to start over. To start anew, she had to free herself from the past. And to do that, she had to gather every little piece of her shattered heart. Only by freeing herself could she hope for a better future. Having experienced the pain of death once, she had learned what a happy ending truly was: simply moving on.

In the past five years, her only goal had been to move on.

But as soon as she entered the living room, a strong stench of alcohol assaulted her senses, making her cough. She looked around, noticing how the once-elegant hall had transformed into a garbage dump. Empty wine bottles littered the floor, along with discarded ice cream containers and various junk food wrappers.

She rubbed the space between her brows and sighed, shaking her head. The state of the living room was enough to tell her what had transpired.

Placing her purse on the dining table, she walked over to the couch, where she found a beautiful Latina woman sleeping in a very unladylike position, with one leg dangling off the side.

She pulled a soft throw blanket that was half-tucked under the woman’s body, causing her to fall with a thump onto the thick carpet below.

"Christy! Can’t you wake me up like a normal person?" The gorgeous woman on the floor rubbed her sore butt with a pitiful pout. Her dark chocolate-brown eyes blinked up at Christina like an abandoned kitten.

"This is how normal people help their best friends wake up," Christina replied, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "So, my dear Nora, did you enjoy your trip to the heartbreak hotel last night?"

The half-American, half-Latin beauty had been the best friend of this body’s original owner. Over the past five years, Christina had come to see her as her own best friend. In her previous life, Christina had never dared to make friends, wary of the scheming entertainment industry she was a part of. But now, she had a best friend she considered family.

Nora Cartwright, however, was not amused by her friend’s sarcasm. She huffed, "What kind of best friend are you? Aren’t you supposed to comfort me after a breakup? But here you are, mocking me. Heartless!"

Christina busied herself with cleaning up the mess Nora had created the night before, listening to her complaints with amusement. "Nora darling, this was your third breakup this month. I don’t think you need my moral support. The wine and ice cream must have done the job already."

Nora wasn’t offended by Christina's comment. Instead, she said, "My darling Christy, no wine and ice cream can replace a single hug from you." She opened her arms wide, blinking her big eyes earnestly.

Christina had to give in to her friend’s antics. She hugged her warmly before scrunching up her nose. "Ew!" She pushed Nora away, waving a hand in front of her nose. "Please, go take a shower. You smell awful!"

"That was mean!" Nora crossed her arms over her chest, making her already prominent bosom seem even more so.

Christina ruffled Nora’s thick, curly hair, turning it into a tangled mess. "Who told you to take relationships so casually?"

"Isn’t it obvious?" Nora replied, incredulous. "I haven’t met the one who can make me seriously rethink my approach to relationships. Anyway, let’s not talk about it." She waved her hands dismissively, as she always did when the topic of serious relationships came up. Nora Cartwright would easily chicken out when it came to commitment. "My baby Christy, why do you look so gorgeous this early in the morning?"

"I have to leave early today. I won’t be having breakfast with you," Christina replied, glancing at her wristwatch.

"No, no, my baby Christy, don’t abandon me. You know I don’t like eating alone," Nora whined, tugging at her arm like a child.

"Nora darling, today is the first day for interns. I have to be on time," Christina explained, trying to placate her friend as she picked up her purse.

"At least drop the glasses and let your beautiful hair down," Nora suggested, eyeing Christina's cold, uptight appearance. She remembered her best friend as a kind-hearted and warm person, but since Christina's amnesia, Nora could tell that something had changed. It was as if Christina had become a completely different person.

"I don’t want people fainting at the sight of my beauty," Christina joked, playing along with Nora’s suggestion, earning a hearty laugh from her friend.

"Have a good day, baby Christy!" Nora called after her.

"You too, my feisty Latina!" Christina responded, a small smile playing on her lips as she left for the day.

Chapter 3: Like A Piece of Paper

One might assume that, given the absence of any memories from the original owner, Christina had been handed a clean slate, a blank canvas upon which she could paint her own story. However, only she knew the overwhelming challenge of pretending to be someone about whom she had no knowledge. As a professional actress, she was accustomed to immersing herself into roles, but here, there was no script, no direction, no impression of who the real Christina Richardson was. She was utterly lost, carrying the burden of not knowing whose life she had unintentionally usurped, and why. All she knew was that she wanted to do justice for the departed soul. Even after five years, she hadn’t managed to uncover even a fragment of a memory that belonged to the real Christina Richardson.

The bus ride was long, an hour of staring out the window, lost in thought. When she finally reached the towering Spark International Group building, she paused to take it all in. The glass structure loomed above, intimidating in its grandeur, yet it didn’t faze Christina. She was a girl who had experienced death and somehow survived it, emerging from the other side with a new life. The idea of "rebirth" amused her—it seemed foolish, even to herself, despite having lived through it firsthand. For her, such supernatural phenomena belonged in fictional stories, and yet, here she was, living one.

Before stepping into the building, she made a detour into a nearby café. The line was long, and she found herself half-listening to the news playing on the TV.

"The Nominations for the Golden Phoenix Awards have been uploaded. It is reported that the voting lines will be open till the..."

The voice on the TV faded into the background as Christina's thoughts wandered. Once upon a time, she had won the Best Actress Award at the Golden Phoenix Awards for four consecutive years. Her achievements had been enviable, a fairytale success story. But that was all in the past.

Today, Christina was nothing like the goddess who had once been either admired or despised by the public. She had no desire to return to that life. Perhaps that’s why she had never looked back, never sought out news from the Capital. After her rebirth, she had completely let go of the past that belonged to the woman who had once been known Anna Baker.

She was content being an ordinary girl in An City, where no one pointed fingers at her. The peace here was a welcome change. It’s easy for people to judge, to point fingers, but they could never understand the weight of the accusations Christina had borne. People said Anna Baker had committed suicide. She wanted to scream, "You all killed me. How could a coward like me even dare to jump? It was your accusations that pushed me down that balcony." But she couldn’t change the past. And she no longer wanted to. This body wasn’t hers, and she had no right to settle old scores when she couldn’t even resolve the unfinished business of the original soul.

"Miss?" The cashier’s voice snapped Christina out of her thoughts.

"One black coffee to go," she ordered, paying quickly before heading into the busy lobby of Spark International.

Inside the elevator, Christina stood at the back as others filed in.

"Hey, are you a new intern as well?" A perky girl asked the bespectacled guy next to her. He nodded shyly in response, and she continued, "I knew it. I could tell. I’m Wendy. And you are?"

The guy hesitated before replying softly, "Jason."

"Nice to meet you, Jason." Wendy turned to introduce him to the other interns. "Jason, since I like you, let me give you a heads-up. My cousin works in the Design Department, and she told me we need to be very careful around the intern supervisor."

"Why?" a petite girl asked, curiosity piqued.

"My cousin said our training supervisor is known as the Heartless Witch in the Planning Department, but she’s revered in the Finance Department for her IQ." Wendy continued, oblivious to the fact that other employees were listening. "Her real name is Christina Richardson, and she’s only twenty-three years old."

"Huh? She’s so young? How can she be our training supervisor?" Another intern chimed in.

"Aiyo! Didn’t I just tell you she has a high IQ? She topped the college entrance exam and finished her bachelor’s degree in Economics in a year and a half. She started as an intern while she was still in college and later got a permanent position. She’s been here for over three years and has even received double promotions." Wendy kept rattling off Christina's history, unaware that the subject of her discussion was standing right behind her.

Christina was quietly amused by the conversation but kept her expression neutral. *Aye, I didn’t know I was famous again. Seems like I wasn’t born to lay low-key,* she thought.

"She seems like an amazing person," Jason commented, his voice tinged with nervousness.

"Aiya, our Jason is so pure-hearted. Don’t be fooled. She has the name ‘Heartless Witch’ for a reason. She loves wearing her colleagues down. Get on her bad side, and she’ll crush you like a piece of paper." Wendy’s words instilled fear in the other interns.

Meanwhile, Christina was thinking, *When did I ever crush someone like a piece of paper? I’m not a shredding machine!*

With a cardboard box in hand, Christina entered the meeting room where the interns had gathered for their briefing. Without saying a word, she placed business cards on the table for distribution.

"Let’s skip the introductions since you’ve probably heard enough about me already," she said, her gaze lingering on Wendy, who shrank back in her seat. "I’m Christina Richardson. That’s all you need to know about me. As for the rules, I’ll say them once. Don’t make me repeat myself." She paced around the room, her presence looming like a dark cloud over the interns.

"The first rule, I hate tardiness. Don’t let me catch you ditching work." She paused briefly before continuing, "The second rule, I hate excuses. Unless you’re dying, don’t even think about asking for a day off." She dropped a thick file on the table with a loud thud, making the interns flinch. "And the most important rule: mind your own business. The Planning Department hates gossip. Don’t even think about testing my patience."

She turned to leave but stopped mid-step. "Oh, and let me enlighten you. I might not crumble interns like a piece of paper, but I do enjoy making their lives hell." Her voice hardened at the end, sending a shiver down everyone’s spine, especially Wendy, who was silently cursing her luck.

Christina exited the room, leaving behind a group of pale-faced interns who had just been introduced to their supervisor—a woman who, despite her young age, carried the weight of a life lived twice, once as a shattered actress and now as a formidable force in the corporate world. She had been reborn, not just into a new body, but into a new life entirely, and she was determined to make this one count, no matter the cost.

Chapter 4: A Bond With Rain

"How are the new interns?" Christina could see the ghost of a smile playing on her manager's face as she asked the question.

"Just like last year, I still hate them," Christina responded bluntly, a trait that Samantha particularly appreciated in her. Christina had impressed Samantha on multiple occasions, especially with her honesty.

"Christina Richardson, just because you're a workaholic doesn't mean you should drag others down with you. Give those interns a break; it's only their first day." Samantha instructed in a calm tone, her experienced eyes resting on Christina's impassive face. She couldn't recall the last time she'd seen this young but stoic woman smile. Was it really such hard work to lift the corners of her lips?

"I respect you, Ms. Sam, but leisure is only warranted when it's necessary. If we give them a laid-back first day, wouldn't that be giving them false hope that the following days will be the same?" Samantha could only shake her head at Christina's argument. This woman had certainly earned her title as the Heartless Witch.

Samantha rubbed her temples to ease the incoming headache as she said, "You have a meeting with a client during lunchtime. Try being nice." Christina gave a small bow and turned to leave.

'Nice?' Christina sneered to herself as she settled into her cubicle. 'The kind-hearted Christy died on that balcony five years ago. This world doesn't value nice people like her.'

She collected her materials for the meeting and left early.

The meeting lasted for two hours, and by the time she left, it was already past 3 o'clock. To spare the new interns on their first day, Samantha had texted Christina, telling her to take the rest of the day off. She thought Christina would refuse, but Christina simply replied with an 'Okay' before hailing a cab for herself.

Through the taxi's glass window, she saw the large billboards for international brands, triggering a flood of memories. But she didn't let those painful recollections overwhelm her as they once had. After a half-hour ride, the taxi stopped on the outskirts of the city. Christina paid the fare and began making her way up a small hill.

An ethereal silence enveloped her surroundings. It was deathly quiet, save for the occasional sounds of birds flapping their wings and the strong gusts of wind swirling around her.

She wandered aimlessly, crossing the plank walkway by a small lake.

Hearing a low rumble, she stopped and looked up, noticing the sky darkening. The sky was a foreboding gray; it would rain soon. She had ignored the chill in the wind earlier, but she couldn’t anymore.

She gave a brittle smile, finding it somewhat amusing. It seemed that heaven loved drenching her with cold raindrops. After all, she shared a deeper bond with rain than most could imagine. In fact, no one could possibly understand the connection she had with rain.

It was also raining the day she chose to end her life. She had called herself a coward, but even she knew that if given a second chance, she would still choose the same ending. She had been that tired of her life and the people who never understood or appreciated her efforts.

Oddly enough, heaven had offered her a second chance—but not in the way she had expected. Because it was also raining when…

She woke up in another body five years ago.

Closing her eyes, she drifted back to the day she was reborn.

*Flashback*

Hurting... It hurts so much…

She seemed to be reliving the pain of when her body collided with a car after she jumped from her balcony. She remembered the way every inch of her body ached, her head bled, glass shards pierced her skin…

Most of all, she remembered the excruciatingly slow process of her spirit leaving her body. It was worse than being torn apart. But she had to endure this pain repeatedly. It felt like centuries had passed, but she was stuck in a loop, reliving the agony and pain over and over again.

As the sharp pain in her head intensified, she tried to open her eyes but found it incredibly difficult to do so. Suddenly, she felt a couple of droplets hitting her face. She sensed the coolness, and her brows knitted together.

'Am I still in the rain? Has no one buried my body?' Scoffing at her own thoughts, she replied to herself, 'Who would? My mother doesn't care. And him…' Just the thought of him sent a wave of agony through her. 'He's no longer mine to care. I guess I'm not allowed peace, even in death.'

Resigned to her fate, she made no further effort to open her eyes. Her body continued to get drenched in the rain.

"Christy, have you lost your mind? What are you doing here?"

Hearing her name called out, she frowned. The voice was unfamiliar, but the concern was evident. The voice came from somewhere nearby.

'Who could be worried about me?' she wondered, feeling someone sheltering her from the cold rain. Then she felt something warm being draped over her wet body. She wanted to open her eyes. She had to open her eyes. She wanted to see who was so thoughtful toward her.

In a world that had scorned and shamed her, who was willing to become her warm embrace?

So, she tried again. Despite the shooting pain in her head, she pushed herself harder. Her eyes fluttered open, and as her vision cleared, she saw a beautiful young girl before her. The girl didn’t look American at all with her striking features, but she spoke English fluently.

The girl before her had honey-colored skin. Her eyes were chocolate brown, perfectly matching her hair. She was truly a beautiful girl. Even Christina, who had lived the life of a superstar, felt that the girl before her was gorgeous—an elusive beauty that artists could hardly capture.

But Christina was unfamiliar with her. Who was she? She wanted to ask but held back when she noticed her surroundings. She was in a cemetery, more precisely, curled up in a fetal position beside a gravestone.

An unfamiliar gravestone. The name on it was Carina Novell.

The name didn’t ring any bells for Christina, but thinking about it brought a strange pain to her heart, making her gasp and breathe deeply. What was this weird pain? She wondered.

"You're running a high fever. Let's get you home first. Why didn’t you call me? You are so irresponsible. Am I not your best friend?" The beautiful girl tried to drag Christina's frail body, but Christina felt too weak to move.

'Best friend? But in my line of work, I could never make a friend. When did I make such a caring best friend?' Christina frowned, struggling to support her own weight.

Seeing her condition, the beautiful girl properly supported her and guided her down the small hill. There was a car waiting there. Christina couldn’t make sense of anything. Her head was hurting badly, and she didn’t know how she was even able to stand.

She set aside her thoughts and followed the girl toward the black car, deciding to leave the thinking for later. However, before she could enter the car, her eyes fell on her own reflection in the side mirror, and she froze.

Looking at the unfamiliar face of a teenage girl, Christina's mind reeled with shock. The girl had puffy red eyes, thick straight hair that reached her shoulders, and it was sticking to her face. Her face was small but had baby fat on it. To confirm, Christina lifted her hand with effort and touched her face, only to realize that it was indeed her reflection.

Unable to process such a ridiculous reality, she screamed, "Ahhhhh!"

Her scream startled the beautiful girl beside her, but before she could react, Christiana's body went limp as she fainted.

Chapter 5: Rebirth as Christina Richardson

**Flashback Continued**

Christina found herself trapped in a labyrinth of fear and overwhelming pain, an unending maze that seemed to stretch on forever. She ran, desperate to escape, but every path led to a dead-end, each one more disheartening than the last. There was no way out. She was utterly lost, not just in the maze but within herself.

Sweat dripped down her face, her breath came in ragged gasps, and her legs felt like they would give out at any moment. The walls of the maze were mirrors, cruelly reflecting her past, each one showcasing the pain and humiliation that had led her to her demise. Faces filled with scorn stared back at her from the glass, eyes brimming with disgust. She couldn’t bear to look, couldn’t stand the weight of their judgment.

Christina collapsed, burying her face in her knees, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her shoulders shook with the force of her sobs, the agony of her past too much to bear.

Then, she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder. Lifting her head, Christina saw a teenage girl smiling warmly at her. The girl’s honey-brown eyes seemed to draw her in, offering a comfort that Christina hadn’t felt in a long time.

The girl extended her hand, and Christina hesitated, staring at it in disbelief. When was the last time someone had offered her a helping hand? But something in the girl’s eyes gave her the strength to reach out, and she took the offered hand.

The girl led Christina through the maze, and as they walked, the painful memories reflected in the mirrors began to fade away. Soon, a bright light appeared at the end of the maze, a beacon of hope in the darkness.

The girl stopped at the last step, and when Christina looked back at her in confusion, the girl gave her a gentle push and mouthed the words, “Don’t give up!”

With a jolt, Christina woke up, finding herself in an unfamiliar place once again. This time, it was a hospital room, the rhythmic beeping of machines echoing in her ears. She sighed in relief, realizing that the terrifying maze had been nothing more than a dream.

But her head throbbed painfully, as if something was trying to force its way into her mind while another force tried to keep it out. She clutched her head in agony, the pain so intense that she barely noticed when the needle in her hand tugged painfully against her skin.

“Today, in West Lake Cemetery, Superstar Christina was cremated. The People's Pure Goddess committed suicide last week by jumping from the balcony of her bedroom,” the voice of a newscaster filtered through the haze of pain, pulling Christina's attention to the TV in her hospital room. “No suicide note was found in her apartment, but the police believe Ms. Anna's last Weibo post was her suicide note. However, despite an extensive search, that handwritten note was not located in her apartment.”

Christina sat frozen on the hospital bed, the newscaster’s words ringing in her ears. Yes, she had committed suicide. But if that were true, why was she here? She looked down at her hands and feet before rushing to the bathroom.

When her eyes met the reflection in the mirror, they widened in shock. Staring back at her was the same teenage girl from her dream. Christina splashed cold water on her face, hoping to dispel the surreal image, but when she looked again, the unfamiliar face remained.

“How is this even possible?” she muttered in disbelief. “I jumped because I wanted to die. Why am I still here?” She pinched herself, hoping to wake up from what had to be a nightmare, but the sharp pain confirmed her worst fears. “Ow!” she yelped, rubbing the sore spot. “This is so not a dream!”

This was no ordinary nightmare. Christina had spent years perfecting her craft as a professional actress, playing other characters for a living, but this—this was beyond her comprehension. How could she possibly have been resurrected, and in someone else’s body? The question gnawed at her— why? She had died with many regrets, but that couldn’t be the reason for this bizarre turn of events.

But who was this girl whose body she now inhabited?

No matter how hard Christina tried to remember, all she got in return was a splitting headache. Wasn’t this supposed to be like all those transmigration novels she had read, where the new soul gained access to the previous owner’s memories? So why couldn’t she recall anything?

She propped her elbows on the marble basin, supporting her head with her hands as she stared at the unfamiliar face in the mirror. She had died at the age of 23, but now she was back to being an 18- year-old.

Was she meant to be stuck with her own miserable and painful memories? How was she supposed to start anew with these old scars haunting her?

The only silver lining she could find was the opportunity to do everything she had missed out on when she was 18 the first time around. Her eyes lit up with the realization. For instance, she could finally take the college entrance exams. Just the thought of that made her feel giddy and full of energy— until reality crashed down on her again.

“What about him?” she murmured, her thoughts drifting to the handsome face that had once meant everything to her. “Does he miss me? Does he regret calling me a presumptuous woman, or treating me the way he did?” She slapped her cheeks, trying to snap herself out of it.

“Christy, listen to yourself. Haven’t you learned your lesson? He pushed you to your death. He’s all the way in the Capital while you’re stuck in... wherever this is. This body belongs to someone else. And that someone might have her own dreams, now shattered.” As her conscience berated her, Christina felt a sobering clarity wash over her.

She realized she needed to think this through. When she walked out of the bathroom, she found the beautiful girl from earlier pacing back and forth, worry etched across her face.

“Thank God! You’re alright!” The girl pulled Christina into a warm embrace, tears slipping down her cheeks. Christina's body stiffened, unsure of how to respond. She didn’t know who this beautiful soul was, but she guessed that this was the best friend of the body’s original owner. “I was so worried about you.”

Noticing Christina's lack of response and the strange look in her eyes, the girl—Wendy—called for the doctor. After a thorough check-up, the doctor began his questioning. “Can you tell me your name?”

Christina bit her lip, hesitant to reveal the truth. “I don’t remember,” she said, not wanting to admit that she was Christina, trapped in someone else’s body. She had no desire to end up in a mental asylum or worse—become a lab rat.

The doctor didn’t seem surprised by her answer and continued with more questions.

“How is she?” Wendy asked the doctor as he stepped out of the room. “She’s been in a coma for a week, and now she seems different.”

“Nora,” the doctor began gently, “I warned you to prepare for this. Your friend went through severe trauma, and now she’s suffering from amnesia.”

“Is it temporary?” Wendy asked, her face full of concern.

“We can’t be sure,” the doctor replied. “Perhaps her trauma is too great for her young self to handle.” He patted Wendy’s shoulder before leaving.

Wendy returned to the room and found Christina curled up on the bed, a dazed look in her eyes. She seemed like a lost kitten, her once vibrant eyes now dull and lifeless.

“Christy!” Wendy called softly, sitting beside her on the bed and gently stroking her hair. “It’s okay if you can’t remember anything. I’m going to stay with you. I’ll be your memory manual.” Christina was bewildered by the girl’s charm and warmth.

It was Wendy who told her that her name was Christina Richardson. It was ironic that both she and the body’s original owner shared the same given name.

As for Wendy herself...

She was a Latino beauty who had moved to the US when her mother remarried an American businessman. At 14, Wendy had mastered English in just four years, and now, at 18, she was fluent.

Christina, touched by Wendy’s love and gentleness, hugged her back with a small smile. But she knew that Wendy’s affection was meant for the Christina Richardson who was already gone.

“You scared me, girl. Why did you go to the cemetery?” Wendy scolded her gently, her peculiar way of showing love. “Anyway, welcome back to the land of the living.”

Christina looked into Wendy’s clear, bright eyes and replied, “Indeed, it’s welcome back.” Only Christina knew the full weight of those words. With them, she decided to leave her past behind. Christina was dead, and no one could change that.

Now, only Christina Richardson would live—and she would live her life to the fullest.

Goodbye, Christina. The world didn’t need you, and it never would. Let’s bury Christina and her memories right here.

**Flashback Ends**