Return of the Forgotten Heiress

Olive leaned closer to Elise, her lips curled in a cold smile. “Sister,” she said mockingly, “do you know who your real parents are?” Her voice dripped with malicious delight. “Mom and Dad found them just a week ago. That’s right—your real parents. They were planning to use you to get close to them. That’s why I arranged your kidnapping.”

Elise's blood ran cold.

“How could I let you outshine me?” Olive hissed. “You’re the only daughter of the Swansons. They've been searching for you for twenty-four years.”

Elise’s eyes widened in shock.

“You were taken by the Swansons’ nanny,” Olive continued, pacing slowly around her. “She kidnapped you for ransom, but things didn’t go as planned. She lost you while trying to flee. That’s when my parents found you.”

Olive’s heel pressed down onto Elise’s face, forcing it against the cold, dirty floor. She laughed cruelly. “You were meant to be my shadow—always behind me, never in front. How could I possibly allow someone like you, with that pretty face, to reunite with the Swansons?”

Elise’s mind spiraled as she recalled who the Swansons were—one of the four wealthiest families in the entire country. Their power and influence far surpassed the Coopers or even the Gibsons. She remembered reading about the Swansons' tragic loss—their youngest daughter, taken at just a few months old. For decades, they had searched for her without success.

Now, she knew why.

Her adoptive father had tried for years to get in touch with the Swansons, always falling short, always unqualified. Suddenly, memories of her childhood rushed back—cold, sharp, and bitter. The unfairness, the neglect, the cruel beatings for minor mistakes. Her birthdays, always forgotten or brushed aside with excuses about Thanksgiving expenses. “We’ll get you something next month,” they’d say. But they never did.

Her mother dressed her in revealing outfits, always making her look inappropriate, then criticized her for being “too bold.” One year, Elise had simply admired a doll that Olive received as a birthday gift. When Olive burst into tears and accused her of stealing, everyone turned their judgmental gazes on Elise. She’d felt humiliated.

Now it all made sense.

Olive had used her as a stepping stone—swapping exam papers, locking her in her room during finals, and subtly ruining her image in front of others. All her suffering, all her confusion... it had been carefully orchestrated.

A burning resentment lit up in Elise’s chest. Her entire life had been a lie.

If only… if only I had one chance. Just one.

She closed her eyes, silently pleading to any higher power that might listen. Please... let me meet my real parents. Let me live again. Let me take back what was stolen.

As her consciousness began to fade, lightning cracked through the sky. The pendant she’d worn since birth—the one she’d never removed—suddenly began to glow, pulsing with a brilliant red light. The room fell silent.

Elise felt her body go weightless, as if floating through clouds. The pain, the cold—all of it faded away. Then came a sound—a soft beeping, rhythmic and strange. She slowly opened her eyes.

She wasn’t in the dark anymore.

A vast, glowing space surrounded her—white and empty, like the inside of a dream. A mechanical voice echoed all around her.

“Hello, Elise. I’ve been waiting for you.”

Her heart pounded. She looked around, but saw no one.

The voice continued, calm and emotionless. “I am the pendant you’ve worn since birth. Your blood and your overwhelming will for revenge have awakened me. I will now send you back in time—to the moment you turned fifteen. You will have the chance to rewrite your destiny.”

Elise stood frozen in disbelief.

“This space will grow along with you,” the voice said. “As your strength and abilities increase, so will the resources available here. When you return, you will receive access to a personal system, an internal computer with internet, and full access to news up until the date of your death.”

“In short, the knowledge of the future will be yours to command.”

And with that, her vision darkened again.

When she opened her eyes once more, a warm breeze brushed her skin. She blinked rapidly and gasped. The familiar room around her had a youthful glow, filled with things she hadn’t seen in years. The posters on the wall, the old wooden desk, the worn-out teddy bear in the corner—it was all just as it had been.

She jumped out of bed, her legs weak but alive. She rushed to the calendar on the wall. The date read: One day before her 15th birthday.

Her breath caught in her throat.

She turned toward the mirror, slowly approaching it. Staring back at her was a face untouched by trauma—flawless, youthful, radiant. Her skin glowed with health, her long black hair cascading past her waist, and her features were delicate yet striking. She was beautiful.