Chapter 1Reborn: I Tore Apart the Poisoned Comb

In my past life, after my roommate broke my comb, she gave me a new one, a wooden one with an intricate floral pattern.

The first night, our dorm room caught fire. The source was traced to my bed. I was officially reprimanded by the student advisor, a permanent mark on my record.

On the fifth day, my mother called to tell me our family was bankrupt. A sudden financial crisis had wiped us out. I sold everything of value, but it was a drop in the ocean.

On the tenth day, a strange illness took hold of me. I lay in bed, wasting away.

As I was dying, my roommate looked down at me with pure hatred. "Why were you born with so much?"

She pulled out a black credit card. "It doesn't matter. It's all mine now."

I opened my eyes. I was back. Back to the day my roommate broke my comb.

* * *

Mia approached me cautiously, holding the two halves of my broken comb.

She looked at me with wide, pitiful eyes. "I'm so sorry, Belle. It was an accident."

"I'll buy you a new one."

My stomach lurched. I snatched the broken pieces from her hand. "Don't worry about it. It's just a comb."

My sudden movement startled her. She took a step back. "Really, Belle, I'm sorry. Please don't be mad."

"I'll get you a new one tonight."

I looked up, meeting her gaze directly. "I said don't worry about it. I'll buy one myself."

I had never spoken to her so sharply before. Mia grew visibly nervous, biting her lip. "Are you angry with me?" she whispered. "I promise I'll replace it."

Her insistence was starting to grate on me. My voice rose. "I said no. Don't you understand?" I nudged her aside. "Excuse me. I need to get out."

The other two roommates, hearing the commotion, sat up in their beds.

"Belle, it was an accident. Do you have to be so dramatic?"

Across the room, Zara shot us a sidelong glance, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "She's a princess, isn't she? Rich girls are always a little high-strung."

As she spoke, I watched Mia out of the corner of my eye. Sure enough, her expression was a mask of pure envy.

I forced a smile. "You're right. I am high-strung. So what?"

I slammed the door behind me. In that final second before it latched, I heard Mia begin to sob, followed by Zara's cutting voice. "Just because her family has a little money. Who does she think she is?"

I walked out of the dorm, the broken comb still clutched in my hand. My other hand rested on my chest as I took deep, gulping breaths of fresh air. The sun beat down on my head, a warm, solid presence. It was real. I was alive. I was back.

In my last life, it had started just like this. Not wanting Mia to feel guilty, I had accepted her offer of a replacement comb. She had handed it to me with a fawning smile, a wooden comb with a delicate floral carving. "I hope you like it, Belle."

I had accepted it gratefully, completely unaware that in doing so, I was accepting a ticket to my own personal hell.

I had a habit of brushing my hair before bed. Everyone in the dorm knew. That night, after using the new comb, I fell into a deep, heavy sleep. I woke up choking on thick, black smoke. The room was in chaos. By the time we escaped, half my hair was gone.

The fire investigator's words still echoed in my ears. "The fire started in your bed."

A younger firefighter had looked confused. "The strange thing is, we can't find the cause."

It made no sense. There was nothing flammable in our room, no open flames. But the fire had undeniably started in my bed.

The student advisor was furious. I was given a formal warning and a major demerit on my permanent record.

From that day on, it was as if I was cursed. I'd trip on flat ground. My instant noodles would be missing the flavor packet. Five days later, the phone call from my mother came like a bolt of lightning. "We're bankrupt! Your father's company... someone set him up!"

It felt like falling from the sky and landing in a pit of mud. I sold my designer clothes, my bags, my jewelry. It wasn't enough. My mother cried until she was coughing up blood. My father's hair turned white overnight. He collapsed and couldn't get out of bed.

Five days after that, my body began to fail me. I was paralyzed, too weak to even speak. Soon, even breathing became a struggle.

Mia was the only one in the room with me. I used every last ounce of my strength to beg her to call an ambulance.

She had stood over me, her posture arrogant. "An ambulance? In your dreams."

She was a different person. The Mia I knew was timid and poor, always speaking in a near-whisper, dressed in worn-out clothes. But the woman standing before me wore a gold necklace so bright it hurt my eyes.

She sneered. "Life isn't fair, is it? Why were you born with everything, while I had to survive on bread and water?" She paused, then reached down and pinched my cheek, hard. "But maybe life is fair after all. Because everything you had... is mine now."

The memory sent a chill through me, and I broke out in a cold sweat.