Rebirth and Return

1
My last memory was the sterile white of a delivery room, the frantic beeping of machines fading to a dull hum. Then, nothing.
Now, I’m back. But fifteen years have vanished.
And on my very first day, I discovered that the precious daughter I had traded my life for was being tormented by my husband’s so-called "one that got away" and her venomous child.
As for my husband, Jerry Knight? He’d transformed into New York’s most reclusive spiritual guru, a phantom who spent his days shrouded in incense, detached from the mortal world.
So I grabbed a fistful of his hair, slapped him three times across the face, and hissed, “Is this how you mourn me?”
My eyelids felt like lead weights as I forced them open, the world swimming into focus. I was standing on a familiar street, right next to the high school I’d once attended. A few pedestrians ambled by, some casting curious glances at my dazed figure.
Ten minutes later, I stared up at the indifferent sky, forced to accept the impossible.
I hadn’t just been reborn. I had jumped forward fifteen years in time.
Taking a shaky breath, I flagged down a passerby and asked to borrow her phone. I dialed a number I knew better than my own—Jerry’s.
After a few rings, he answered.
“Hello?”
The voice was his—deep, familiar, achingly handsome. But time had layered it with a new gravity, a magnetic weight it hadn't possessed before. A lump formed in my throat, and my voice cracked as I spoke. “Jerry, it’s me. It’s Annelise. I know this sounds insane, but I think I might have… time-traveled? Or something. I’m at our old high school. Can you just… can you please come get me?”
The line went dead silent. A long, suffocating pause stretched between us. Just as I was about to say something, anything, to break the tension, a cold, derisive chuckle echoed through the phone.
“I have no idea where you people scraped my number from,” he said, his tone dripping with contempt, “but tell whoever put you up to this to try a better trick next time. Mimicking a voice and expecting to get my attention? It’s pathetic. Disgusting.”
His words hit me like a physical blow, my fingers going numb around the phone. Then, white-hot rage seared through me. I didn’t care who was watching. “Jerry Knight, who the hell do you think you’re talking to?” I snarled. “You can’t even recognize your own wife’s voice? Looks like those fifteen years have taught you absolutely nothing!”
The other end went silent again, but this time it was a stunned silence.
I pressed on, my voice like steel. “I don’t care what hole you’ve crawled into. You have thirty minutes to get your ass over here. If you’re not here, you might as well be dead to me.”
I hung up, the finality of the click echoing in the quiet street. The woman who’d lent me the phone was staring at me, her eyes wide. I managed a weak, apologetic smile and handed it back.
She took it, hesitating. “Excuse me… but were you talking to Jerry Knight? From the Knight Corporation? I’m so sorry, you had it on speaker, and his voice sounded so much like…”
I blinked, then nodded slowly. “You know him?”
She let out a breath, a knowing look on her face. “Who in Rockhaven doesn’t know about the Crown Prince of Knight Corp?” Seeing my interest, she must have mistaken me for an old friend of his and launched into the city's favorite gossip. “It was so tragic, you know. After Mrs. Knight died in childbirth, she left behind a daughter. Everyone thought he’d remarry soon, especially with his old flame, Evelyn Vance, making such a huge comeback to the States. But then… a few years after he built Knight Corp into an empire, he just… vanished. Announced he was retreating from public life. No one knows where he is, though he sometimes shows up at the annual gala. But…”
“But what?” I pressed.
“Well, this is just a rumor,” she said, leaning in conspiratorially, “but people are saying he and Evelyn Vance are getting close again. Everyone’s betting he’ll finally come back to the world for her. I mean, she’s an Oscar-winning actress now. What man could resist that?”
A bitter smile twisted my lips. “Looks like I came back just in time to crash a wedding.”
The woman saw the storm cloud on my face and quickly made her excuses, scurrying away.
Two daggers to the heart in less than an hour. A wave of grief, sharp and suffocating, washed over me. If Jerry had really moved on, if he and his old flame were truly in love, I wouldn’t fight it. I had no right to ask him to be a widower for fifteen years.
But my daughter… I hadn’t even seen her yet. I had no idea how she was.
Knowing Jerry, I had a good idea of where he’d send her. Our old alma mater.
I stepped out of the cab and saw the familiar wrought-iron gates of the prestigious academy. Just then, a cacophony of jeers and cruel laughter cut through the afternoon air.
My head snapped toward the sound. A group of sneering teenagers with bleached-out hair were dragging a girl with short, dark hair out of the school gates. She kept her head bowed, her shoulders slumped in defeat.
It was bullying, plain and simple.
I frowned. This was supposed to be the best private school in the city. How could this be happening in broad daylight?
Something about the short-haired girl felt achingly familiar. An invisible string pulled me forward, and I followed them from a distance.
They shoved her into a grimy, forgotten alley. The ringleader, a girl with a deceptively pretty face, stepped forward. What she did next made my blood run cold.
She drove her foot into the small of the girl’s back, sending her sprawling onto the filthy concrete.
“I heard Uncle Jerry got you a huge birthday present,” the pretty girl sneered. “Why don’t you show it to everyone?”
The girl on the ground clutched her backpack to her chest, her body trembling. “You can’t have it!”
Another vicious kick. The pretty girl’s face twisted into a mask of pure malice, a look far too ugly for someone so young. She spat on the ground next to the girl’s head. “Don’t be a bitch, Sierra Knight.”
The name. Sierra.
It was as if a giant, icy hand had closed around my heart and squeezed. Before she was born, Jerry and I had already chosen her name.
My eyes shot to the girl on the ground. Even with her face half-hidden by her hair, I could see the defiant glint in her eyes. And her features… they were a perfect echo of my own. My daughter. It could only be her.
The ringleader, bored with the game, issued a new command to her cronies. “Grab her bag. And take her shirt off. Let’s teach her a lesson she won’t forget.”
My vision narrowed. The last shred of my composure burned away, replaced by a singular, blinding rage. All I wanted was to tear these monsters limb from limb.
So this is the life you’ve given our daughter, Jerry.
I spotted a discarded wooden plank near a dumpster. Without a second thought, I snatched it up, stormed into the alley, and shoved the crowd aside, planting myself in front of Sierra.
The pretty girl, Chloe, jumped back, her eyes widening in shock when she saw my face. Then, a flicker of recognition turned into rage. “Who the hell are you? This is none of your business! Get lost, or we’ll beat the crap out of you, too!”
“Shut up,” I said, my voice dangerously low. “None of you are walking out of here.”
A bunch of kids who hadn't even learned to shave. When I fought off a team of armed kidnappers to save Jerry, they probably weren't even born yet.
I rolled my shoulders, relieved to find this body was still in its twenties. Otherwise, this might have actually been a challenge.
A few minutes later, the alley was filled with the groans of teenagers scattered across the ground.
I pinned Chloe’s face to the grimy concrete with my boot, grinding it down for good measure. It still wasn't enough. I drew my foot back and kicked her hard in the stomach, twice. One for each time she’d kicked my daughter.
Chloe coughed up a spray of blood, her body twitching. The arrogant smirk was long gone.
“My mom…” she choked out, her words slurred. “My mom won’t let you get away with this… Uncle Jerry won’t let you get away with this!”
“Oh, really? And who’s your mother?” I asked, savoring her pathetic state. “Tell me. I’d love to know what kind of trash raises a little monster like you.”
“Her mom… her mom is Evelyn Vance.” The voice came from behind me, small and trembling. It was Sierra.
She tugged gently at the corner of my jacket, her eyes wide with fear. “Miss, you should go. If her mom finds out… you’ll be in danger…”
That name again. Evelyn Vance. The pieces clicked into place, and a cold dread settled in my stomach. Now I understood.
Overcome with a fierce, protective love, I pulled Sierra into my arms, stroking her soft hair. “It’s okay, sweetie,” I whispered, my heart aching. “Don’t be scared. Mama’s here to protect you.”
Sierra’s eyes widened. She stared up at me, her lips parting in a silent question. “Mama…? Are… are you my mama?”
They say a mother and child share a bond that transcends words, an instinct that lies deeper than memory. In that moment, looking into her eyes—my eyes—I knew she believed me.
I helped her to her feet, and together we walked out of that dark alley, only to be met by an unwelcome ghost from my past.
“Dad… what are you doing here?” Sierra whispered, shrinking back.
Speak of the devil. I looked up. The man standing before us was almost unchanged. He was broader in the shoulders, his presence more formidable, but it was him. It was as if fifteen years had barely left a trace on him.
“Jerry,” I said, my voice flat. “Long time no see.”
The moment his eyes met mine, they filled with a raw, desperate emotion. His hand trembled as he reached out, as if to touch my face, only to snatch it back like he’d been burned. “Anna…” he stammered, his voice choked. “It’s really you. You’re back.”
I felt Sierra’s hand tighten on my arm, a silent plea. My gaze hardened.
My coldness seemed to snap Jerry out of his trance, making him finally aware of the scene around us—the groaning teenagers, the bloodied girl crawling towards him.
“Jerry, save me!” Chloe wailed, reaching for his leg. “Kill this psycho bitch! She tried to kill me!”
Jerry’s brow furrowed as he looked down at her, his expression hardening with annoyance. “You again?”
I cut him off. “What’s the matter? Going to kill me to avenge your precious old flame’s daughter?”
His frown deepened. “What old flame? You know perfectly well I don’t have one.”
“I don’t have the time or the energy to care about your love life, Jerry. But you… you’ve disappointed me more than I can possibly say.”
I turned, pulling Sierra with me, and tried to walk past him.
He grabbed my arm, his grip like iron. His eyes were bloodshot, so red it looked like they might start bleeding. “Don’t you dare leave,” he roared, his voice raw with a pain that had been festering for fifteen years. “You are not leaving me again!”
SMACK!
The sound was sharp, explosive. The alley fell utterly silent. The whimpering teenagers froze. Even Sierra’s jaw dropped.
Jerry’s head was snapped to the side, a red mark blooming on his cheek. He stared at me, stunned.
I gritted my teeth. “Our daughter is being tormented, and you’re what? Oblivious? Or did you just not care?”
SMACK!
Another sharp crack echoed as my hand met his other cheek. Tears began to stream down his face, silent and heavy.
“Too busy for your own child,” I continued, my voice shaking with rage, “but plenty of time for your old flame, making headlines all over the city. How pathetic are you?”
SMACK!
The third and final slap. I jabbed a finger at his chest, my eyes boring into his. “Jerry Knight, is this how you mourn me?”

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