Another Life, Another Favor

I came back to the past, and so did Aiden Mitchell.
In my last life, he was the one who personally brought me home from the orphanage. I was his foster sister, then his wife. We grew old together, our love a deep and steady flame.
This time, as the Mitchells smiled and waved for me to come home with them, just like before, a teenage Aiden suddenly stepped forward, blocking their view of me.
“Dad, Mom, don’t pick her. I want the girl next to her to be my sister.”
He grabbed the hand of the girl standing beside me—the Hawthorne’s foster daughter, the one who, in our past life, had died of illness before she even turned ten. When he turned back to look at me, his eyes were as cold and sharp as winter ice.
“You stole Chloe’s place. You’re the reason she died so young. In this life, it’s your turn to suffer what she went through.”
In that instant, I understood everything.
This time, he wanted to be the hero. He wanted to save his fragile, little “princess.”
“Would you be willing to come with me?”
Mrs. Hawthorne stood before me, her voice a soft murmur.
I looked past her, at the man I had spent decades with, now holding another girl's hand, walking away without a single glance back.
I gave a small nod.
Fine by me.
This time around, I wanted to try a different path anyway.

1
As I stepped out of the orphanage gates, the Mitchell family was still there, waiting.
The moment Aiden saw me, his face tightened. He fumbled to push the girl into the back seat of their car, and before the door was even fully shut, he was yelling at me.
“Elara Mitchell, you can get on your knees and cry all you want, but I will never accept you as my sister! There’s no place for you in the Mitchell family!”
“A thief like you belongs in that house of horrors with the Hawthornes!”
He punctuated his words with a harsh shove that sent me stumbling.
The car door slammed shut with a deafening bang.
I lost my footing, swaying for a moment before catching my balance. But by then, their cars had already roared off into the distance. The exhaust fumes churned up a cloud of grit and dust that swirled into my face, stinging my eyes until I couldn't keep them open.
Just then, a sleek, jet-black Maybach glided to a silent stop in front of me.
The tinted window lowered, revealing Mrs. Hawthorne’s face, a mask of sculpted ice. “You want to go to the Mitchells?”
I shook my head, my voice barely a whisper. “The Hawthornes are just fine.”
She paused, her gaze flicking over me. “What’s your name?”
“Elara,” I said softly.
“Not anymore,” she stated, her words clipped and final. “You are Elara Hawthorne.”
She didn’t need to say more. I understood.
I quickly opened the car door, slid inside, and said with perfect composure, “Yes, Mother.”
A flicker of something—surprise, perhaps—crossed Mrs. Hawthorne’s brow, but she said nothing, simply leaning back against the leather seat and closing her eyes.
I took the cue and remained silent.
The car purred through a lavish, gated community before stopping at the Hawthorne estate. I followed her inside, watching as she set down her purse. She glanced up the grand staircase, speaking as if to the air, or perhaps introducing someone I couldn’t see.
“Charlotte, this is your new sister, Elara Hawthorne.”
I froze, my gaze instinctively shooting upward.
Leaning against the railing of the second-floor gallery was a boy. He was even more handsome than Aiden, his features so clean and defined they seemed almost unreal, yet imbued with a chilling remoteness. I had no idea how long he’d been standing there, watching in complete silence.
My stomach dropped.
So this was Charlotte Hawthorne? He was nothing like I remembered…
In my past life, he’d been sent abroad shortly after I was taken in by the Mitchells. I didn’t see him again for many years. By then, he was the head of the Hawthorne empire, his face a roadmap of scars, his presence terrifying. He was ruthless in business and frightening in appearance; behind his back, the elite circles called him “The Hawthorne Reaper.”
I forced a smile and called out softly, “Hello, brother.”
But it was as if he hadn't heard me. He remained motionless, his eyes as cold and empty as still water.
“Don’t mind him,” Mrs. Hawthorne said flatly. “He’s always been like that. Prefers his own company.”
With that, she summoned a housekeeper and instructed her to show me to my room, then left without another word.
I bowed my head, about to follow the housekeeper. But some strange impulse made me look back one last time.
My eyes crashed into the boy’s.
His gaze was black and heavy, like a bottomless well, utterly devoid of emotion.
A shiver shot through me.
I tried to muster another smile, but he looked away first, turning and disappearing back into his room. The door closed behind him without a sound.

2
A month had passed since I’d arrived at the Hawthorne estate.
After that first day, I hadn’t seen Mrs. Hawthorne at all. Charlotte, on the other hand, I’d occasionally see at the dinner table. Every time, I’d greet him with a sweet, smiling, “Good evening, brother.”
And every time, he’d ignore me completely, not even bothering to lift his gaze from his plate.
I wasn’t angry, or even embarrassed.
Frankly, I didn’t have the time to dwell on it.
My days were scheduled down to the minute, so packed that even breathing felt like a luxury. Mrs. Hawthorne may have been absent, but her orders were not. My life became a whirlwind of lessons in deportment and posture, followed by dance, equestrianism, and every other aristocratic discipline she could think of.
It was supposed to be summer break, a time for rest, but this was more exhausting than school had ever been.
Even Mrs. Gable, the head housekeeper, looked at the constellation of bruises on my knees with a soft, pitying gaze.
“Miss Elara, are you sure you don’t want to ask Mrs. Hawthorne for a day off?”
I looked down, pulling on my riding boots, and gently shook my head. “There’s no need.”
On my first day, Mrs. Hawthorne had made her expectations crystal clear.
“No child of the Hawthorne family is allowed to be lazy. Even if you aren't my blood, you will not bring shame to this name.”
“Not like that girl at the Mitchells’, playing around all day.”
Mrs. Gable sighed, handing me my satchel. “It’s true. I heard them making a racket this morning. The whole family booked tickets to fly abroad for the summer.”
She was trying to stick up for me, in her own way. She thought a girl my age shouldn’t be cooped up, drilled with these endless, punishing lessons.
I stood and took the bag with a smile. “It’s not a hardship, Mrs. Gable. I want to learn these things.”
Outsiders might see the Hawthorne household as a cold, rigid prison.
But I knew it was an opportunity.
The Hawthornes were old money, with a foundation and network of connections so deep that new-money families like the Mitchells couldn’t hope to touch it, even after decades of trying.
Here, I could learn. I could climb higher.
Even if everyone in this house treated me with cold indifference, even if Mrs. Hawthorne was relentlessly strict, and Charlotte wouldn’t give me the time of day…
Lost in thought, I felt something soft and white brush against my leg. A moment later, a frantic, girlish voice called out.
“Oh, Snowy! Wrong person! Come back!”
“Aiden! Help me catch her!”
“You silly thing.”
I bent down and scooped the small kitten into my arms, straightening up just as a boy walked toward me.
His lips were curved into a smile, his eyes filled with adoration. I recognized him instantly.
It was Aiden Mitchell.

3
The second Aiden saw me, the smile vanished from his face, replaced by a look of pure disgust.
“What are you still doing here? Can’t you take a hint?” he snapped, his voice dripping with scorn. “Don’t think for a second that ambushing me here will change my mind. Dream on.”
“Elara?!”
Chloe’s voice, a mixture of surprise and delight, cut through the tension. She hurried over, her fluffy skirt bouncing, her eyes shining. “Wow, I can’t believe it! It’s so great to see you again after the orphanage! What a coincidence!”
She took the kitten from my arms, then her eyes fell on the black sedan parked behind me. She asked, full of curiosity, “Is that car… here to pick you up?”
Her gaze swept over the vehicle, and in an instant, her expression shifted, her face paling.
“Oh my god! Don’t tell me you were actually adopted by the Hawthornes next door?”
I was about to answer when my eyes caught something familiar—a key-shaped pendant hanging around her neck. The sight sent a jolt through my heart.
Chloe noticed my gaze and instinctively clutched the pendant, hiding it in her fist.
I feigned ignorance, simply nodding. “Yes, I’m living with the Hawthornes now.”
“So, does that mean your name is Elara Hawthorne now?”
I glanced at Aiden. He was standing there awkwardly, a flush of embarrassment on his face, clearly realizing his mistake.
“I suppose so.”
“The Hawthornes are scary, aren’t they?” she leaned in, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I heard their son has… issues. That he doesn’t talk. Is it true?”
She gestured secretly toward the Hawthorne estate, her face a mask of gossipy intrigue, firing off questions.
My brow furrowed, and I opened my mouth to correct her, but she was already chattering on.
“Hey, that outfit you’re wearing… is that for riding and archery? You’re actually learning that stuff?” she asked, tilting her head as she looked me up and down.
“I have to go,” I said, trying to step away.
Aiden cut in, his voice cold. “Chloe, why are you wasting your time with someone like her? Let’s go.”
Chloe chirped an agreement, then stuck her tongue out at me playfully. “Don’t mind him. My brother is usually super sweet, he’s probably just in a bad mood today…”
“Aiden, wait for me!” she called, lifting her skirt to chase after him.
I stood there for a moment before turning to leave as well.
The wind carried their conversation back to me.
“Aiden, the Hawthornes are so cruel! Elara’s the same age as me, but her schedule is packed. I saw bruises all over her arms; she must be working so hard.”
“Hah. What’s the point of learning all that? A girl learning all that fancy nonsense is just asking for trouble.”
“Our Chloe doesn’t have to suffer like that. All you have to do is be pretty. Be our little princess.”
“Mhm! Mommy, Daddy, and Aiden love me the most!”
Suffering?
So that’s what they called it?
A humorless smile touched my lips, but I said nothing.
In my last life, the Mitchells had truly doted on me, providing me with the best of everything. But anytime I wanted to learn a real skill, they shut me down.
I wanted to learn riding and archery.
They were horrified. “What if you fall and scar your face! How will you ever get married!”
After I was followed home one night, I wanted to take a self-defense class.
They immediately refused. “A daughter of the Mitchell family, learning how to fight? How disgraceful! Aren’t our bodyguards enough?”
Later, when I wanted to learn about business, to understand the ledgers, they shook their heads again. “Your brother is here to handle all that. Why would you worry your pretty little head about it?”
They claimed to love me, but all they did was cultivate me into a delicate flower, ready to wilt at the first strong gust of wind.
But Mrs. Hawthorne was different.
She had said one thing to me that I still remembered:
“In the Hawthorne family, no one relies on anyone else to survive. What can be learned, must be learned. What can be fought for, must be fought for.”

4
Summer vanished in a blur.
Before I knew it, the first day of school had arrived.
My new mother had already enrolled me in the same international academy Charlotte attended—the same one Aiden and I had gone to in our previous life.
On the first day, I got into the car early. When Charlotte pulled the door open, I greeted him with a cheerful smile. “Morning, brother! Mom said we’ll be going to and from school together from now on.”
Charlotte’s hand froze mid-air.
Then, without a word, he sat down in the seat furthest from me.
The next day, I did the same.
And the day after that.
And the one after that…
This went on for nearly two months. I noticed that while Charlotte never responded to me, acting as if I were invisible, something had shifted. Sometimes, when I was running late for breakfast and rushed out into the courtyard, I’d find him waiting by the car, his backpack already slung over his shoulder.
Suppressing my surprise, I’d just smile and say, “You’re a good guy, you know that, brother?”
He would just give me his usual flat glance, turn, and get into the car without a word.
But—
This time, when he got in, he led with his right foot!
A small smile tugged at my lips.
Interesting. Things really were changing.
One afternoon, I waited by the main school building long after the final bell, but Charlotte was nowhere to be found. He wasn't answering his phone.
As I paced anxiously, a sudden, sharp jolt of memory hit me.
I remembered.
In my past life, around this time, something major had happened right outside the school gates. I had been cramming for exams, desperate to catch up with the curriculum, so I only heard snippets of gossip. Whispers about someone from the Hawthorne family causing a scene. Talk of their kid getting into serious trouble.
Years later, I overheard someone mention that the future head of the Hawthorne empire, Charlotte, had his face deliberately slashed during high school.
Could it be… today?
No!
There was no time to think.
I immediately texted our driver:
If you don’t see me at the front gate, don’t wait. Come find me in the alley behind the school.
Then I broke into a dead sprint, my feet pounding against the pavement as I raced toward the back alley.
Charlotte, please be okay!

5
By the time I got there, it was already bad.
Charlotte was cornered at the end of the alley, surrounded by a group of thugs, unable to move.
“Well, well, look who it is. The great Hawthorne heir isn’t acting so high and mighty now, is he? Cat got your tongue? Can’t even beg for mercy?”
“Saves us the trouble. A mute can’t go snitching, can he?”
“Damn, this kid’s got some nerve, still glaring at us!”
The leader, who looked like he was a high schooler himself, sneered and spat on the ground. He pulled out a utility knife and held it menacingly close to Charlotte’s face.
My heart hammered against my ribs.
My eyes darted around and spotted a discarded baseball bat lying nearby.
I sucked in a sharp breath, grit my teeth, and charged forward, yelling at the top of my lungs, “The cops are on their way! I already called them!”
I swung the bat wildly, my movements pure instinct. Thankfully, all those recent fitness lessons meant I had the stamina to back it up.
The thugs were completely blindsided. The mention of the police sent them into a panic, scattering in confusion.
“Shit! This kid’s got a lucky star!” one of them cursed.
After a few more muttered insults, they turned and fled, their footsteps a chaotic scramble.
Once they were gone, I rushed to Charlotte’s side.
A bloody gash marred his cheek—not too deep, but his arms and legs were covered in bruises, clear evidence of the beating he’d taken.
“Brother, hang in there. I’ll get you home!”
I helped him to his feet, but just as we were about to leave, a powerful force slammed into my back, sending me crashing to the ground.
“Hey, Chen! Told you the little brat was bluffing! Cops? What a liar!”
“Lying at such a young age. Rotten to the core!”
“A mute freak and a lying little witch, a perfect pair! Haha!”
The one called Chen was furious. He kicked me again and again in the back. The pain was so intense I curled into a ball, but my eyes met Charlotte’s, and they were wide with terror.
My lips trembled, but I managed to force a smile. “Don’t be scared, brother,” I whispered.
Charlotte flinched as if he’d been struck.
He stared at me, at the small figure shielding him, not backing down an inch.
The fists and feet behind me grew more vicious.
And then—
Charlotte, who had been silent this whole time, suddenly lunged forward like a rabid animal.
He sank his teeth into the nearest attacker’s hand and held on, refusing to let go even as the man screamed! The sheer ferocity of it stunned the thugs for a few seconds.
But there were too many of them. They quickly overpowered him, pinning him to the grimy asphalt.
Punches rained down on his head and chest. Someone even pulled out a metal pipe…
Was this it?
Was this fate unavoidable?
As my consciousness began to fade, I heard voices and footsteps at the entrance of the alley.
Was it our driver…?
I fought to keep my eyes open, trying to see.
My blurry vision focused on a pair of clean, white sneakers slowly coming into view…

First, search for and download the MotoNovel app from Google. Then, open the app and use the code "262960" to read the entire book.