By the time I turned eighteen, she looked me straight in the eye and told me it was time to "repay her" for raising me. She taught me how to please the industry's powerful men. How to survive in a world built on favors, deals, and fake smiles.
Eventually, she reached her goal.
She became a film queen.
And I became a superstar.
The country's hottest actress.
But the cost?
My body. My dignity. My tears.
So when Freya, my sister, who had literally kicked me into that woman's womb, showed up years later in a wheelchair, dragging me toward my death like some tragic villain in a drama…
She had no idea what kind of hell I had already clawed my way out of.
In my previous life, by the end of that life, I felt utterly empty and drained in every way possible—physically, emotionally, and spiritually. I didn't even have the strength to want anything anymore. Not even to live.
But this time around? It was my sister walking that same path. The same one that broke me.
At first, everything seemed picture-perfect for her. The media crowned her the 'Internet's Little Angel,' and she soaked up the spotlight like it was made just for her.