Felicia Fuller was dead. She had died with a broken leg and blind in one eye. Everyone, including her parents and fiancé, Arnold Lawson, applauded, saying she deserved it. Yet, they later braved the snow and ice to find her body, intending to take her home.
After her death, Felicia's soul returned to the Fuller residence. She saw the house glowing, Kayla Fuller playing piano under a spotlight, while Myra and Dexter Fuller smiled indulgently. The scene was idyllic. Then, the phone rang, bringing news of Felicia's death.
After a moment of silence, Myra coldly declared, "It serves her right. She should have chosen a place far away instead of bothering us!"
Dexter added gruffly, "Tell Felicia even trouble has limits. Does she think this stunt will get our attention? It's disgusting. She's a disgrace to the Fuller family!"
Kayla, eyes teary, whispered, "Dad, Mom, please don't blame her. It's my fault. If I hadn't taken her place, she wouldn't have done these awful things out of jealousy—"
"You're too kind," a warm voice interrupted. A tall, refined man with a gentle smile approached Kayla.
"Arnie!" Kayla cried, running into his arms. It was Arnold.
Felicia watched, a bittersweet smile on her face as the three most important people in her life showered Kayla with affection. Tears of blood welled in her eyes.
At eighteen, Felicia had been embraced by Myra and Dexter, revealed as the true daughter of the country's wealthiest family. Having never known a mother's love, Felicia wept as Myra choked back tears, saying, "I finally found you, my daughter."
Felicia was brought back to the Fuller family, but Kayla, a fake heiress, had already taken her place. Felicia became the second daughter, an adopted child. She didn't mind; craving familial love, she tried to please them with humility. However, she couldn't compete with Kayla's effortless charm.
Feeling insecure, Kayla prompted Dexter and Myra to tell Felicia, "Kayla's never suffered hardship. Your return makes her insecure. Try not to appear before her too much."
Similarly, Arnold condescendingly ordered, "Felicia, you've taken everything from Kayla. Why can't you give her a little more?"
Kayla's friends taunted her, calling her a "country bumpkin," unfit to be Kayla's maid. Everyone revolved around Kayla; Felicia was insignificant, a mere shadow. She dared not retaliate.
She humbled herself, hoping for peace, but faced only more cruelty. Four years earlier, on Felicia's birthday, Kayla tricked her to an island where Kayla fell into the sea. The Fuller family searched for seven days, finding nothing. Felicia was branded a murderer.
Myra and Dexter cut ties with her, allowing Arnold to send her to prison. "Take care," they said.
Four years of torture followed, breaking her leg and blinding one eye. Upon release, she saw Kayla and Arnold's love displayed on a city screen, learning Kayla had never died. Then, a truck hit her.
The pain was intense, numbing. Lying in the cold snow, she wanted to ask, "Why?" Why the cruelty, even though Kayla lived? She was at death's door, unable to speak. This, she felt, was her just deserts.
As a ghost, Felicia watched, expecting death to end her suffering. Instead, rage overwhelmed her. She screamed at the cruelty of watching them love Kayla while celebrating her death. Hatred consumed her; she wanted to expose Kayla's manipulative nature. But a force pulled her into darkness. She hated the unfairness of it all.
Tears of blood fell as she vowed that if given another chance, she would never again be blinded by familial love or foolishly give her heart away. Her vision went black. Vaguely, she heard, "Felicia, Felicia—"
Weightlessness overcame her. She opened her eyes to a crystal chandelier, lying on a hotel bed. Had she not died? Hadn't she died after four years of unjust imprisonment, abandoned?
She looked at her hands, then at the mirror. An eighteen-year-old girl with long black hair, fair skin, and bright eyes stared back. It was her. She was alive!
Her heart raced; tears welled. Fate had given her a second chance, returning her to eighteen, her body untouched, her injuries healed. She laughed and cried. But the hatred returned.
She had been trapped by her longing for love and family. This time, it would be different. Wiping away her tears, Felicia's eyes grew cold, predatory. She grabbed a vase and approached the closed door.