Rain lashed my face as I clung to the jagged edge, fingers slipping on wet stone. Below, the ocean roared like a beast waiting to feast. Jeffrey’s voice still echoed—'You were never enough, Emma.' Then Rita’s laugh as they pushed me. I fell. Bones cracked. Darkness swallowed me.

But I didn’t die.

I woke in a shallow grave, half-buried, broken, burning with rage. Crawling took three days. Every breath was a war. When Uncle Chris found me, he didn’t flinch—he nodded, as if he’d been waiting for this moment. 'You want to disappear?' he said. 'Then let the world forget you. We’ll make you someone they can’t ignore.'

A year later, I stood before a mirror—sleek, strong, unrecognizable. Not because I hated who I was, but because I finally saw who I could be. Now, they’re about to meet the new me.