They wished I had died outright in that crash—problem solved, leaving Chloe Miller free to enter the family.
But they didn’t know that I had entered Ethan Brooks’s body.
Since fate had handed me this, I had no choice but to play along.
After a week of observation in the hospital, I was discharged. During that time, I secretly visited my real body. It looked like a walking corpse—tubes in the head, a heavy respirator covering the mouth.
When they heard about the crash, my parents rushed to my side. The doctor had already suggested giving up, but they refused, insisting on keeping me alive, believing I would wake someday.
They spent their days crying at the glass window, their grief stabbing at my heart until I cried again and again.
Thankfully, Lily had been well protected. My parents had sent her to stay with relatives. She was safe, but not happy. Daniel, that heartless man, hadn’t visited her once—as if he never even had a daughter.
On the other side, however, was pure celebration.
To welcome Ethan home from the hospital, Margaret bought him a suburban school district house and even prepared $380,000 in cash, stacked from the door to the living room.
“Come, sweetheart, walk across it! Every step means you’ll rise higher and higher.”
Inside Ethan’s body, I let them drag me forward, stepping on thick stacks of bills. It was like walking on clouds.
I remembered the year I gave birth to Lily—Margaret hadn’t given a single penny, hadn’t even acknowledged her. When friends and family suggested she give something symbolic for good luck, she refused, sitting back like an unbothered queen.
After that, I gave up my career to become a housewife, burying my education while raising our daughter by day and drafting business strategies for Daniel at night. Step by step, I helped him climb, until he built his fortune on my research and patents.
Never did I expect such a day—
“I raised my husband, and in return he gave me a mistress.”
That this could happen to me, and so early in our marriage, while he pretended to love me all those years.
Did he have a conscience?
My fists clenched as I glared at the fruit knife on the coffee table.
This body wasn’t mine. If I killed them all, the blame would fall on Ethan. Wouldn’t that solve everything?
But what if I was stuck in Ethan’s body forever?
As I fantasized about bloodshed, a sweet scent snapped me back to reality.
Chloe Miller’s grin stretched as wide as her neckline. Seeing so much money laid out, she proudly kissed Ethan’s forehead, showering him with praise.
“My sweet boy, thank Grandma. She loves you so much. Don’t let her down—take the money.”
Chloe looked ready to scoop up the cash with her skirt, her sharp nails digging impatiently into Ethan’s arm.
Even though I was the one inside, Ethan’s pain was still mine.
Clearly, he was nothing more than a pawn to her.
At that realization, I suddenly laughed. A new plan was forming in my mind.
