Reborn to Disown My Toxic Daughter

My daughter was born wicked.

She didn't torment others.

She saved her cruelty for me—her own mother.

At seven years old,

she hated me for exposing her father's affair.

She secretly mixed weed killer into my food.

When I caught her red-handed,

she wailed like her heart was breaking:

"This is all your fault for wanting a divorce!"

"You ruined our perfect family!"

At eighteen,

she clutched her college acceptance letter

and stood on the rooftop's edge, waving a disownment agreement.

She forced me to sign a contract of servitude.

Clause one:

Twenty thousand monthly allowance.

She would move out.

Clause two:

No interference in her freedom.

After graduation, she'd find her real father.

I knelt, begging her not to jump.

She laughed until her body shook.

Years later, my health failed.

She vanished with every last penny I had.

When we met again,

she strutted into my home with her deadbeat boyfriend,

demanding the deed to my house without shame.

During the struggle, I fell from the balcony.

Dying, I heard her scream:

"Mom, why would you do this?!"

"What about the house and the money—?!"

Then I opened my eyes.

I was back at the crossroads.

The acceptance letter lay untouched on the coffee table.

The disownment agreement hadn't been drafted yet.

I locked away the bankbook and property deed.

Then I opened the front door wide for her:

"Sweetheart, let Mommy send you off."

"Agree or I'll jump!"

"Either I die, or you disown me!!!"

Isabella's shriek pierced my eardrums.

I jolted awake.

My nails dug deep into my palms.

I'd been reborn.

Against all odds, I'd been reborn.

Tears blurred my vision—

not from grief,

but from the fury rising inside me.

Seeing this, Isabella laughed harder.

"I'm the one who got into college."

"Why are you crying like someone died?"

"Disgusting."

She deliberately swayed on the ledge.

Pebbles tumbled from the rooftop's edge.

The neighbors gasped in unison.

"Charlotte, just say yes!"

"Think of her future!"

"What mother would hold a grudge?"

The same old lines.

Exactly like last time.

This was how they'd guilted me before—

into kneeling, signing that humiliating contract,

only to be bled dry and pushed to my death.

But this time,

the script would change.

I wiped my tears away.

"Fine. I agree."

Isabella froze.

Clearly, she hadn't expected surrender so soon.

She sulkily climbed off the railing.

I turned and walked away.

"Mom! Where are you going?!"

"I haven't told you my terms yet!"

My heels clicked down the stairs