Chapter 1: Divorce, Death, and a Do-Over

Ten years. I put Nathaniel Cole through his PhD program, watched him go from a small-town test whiz to a rising star in tech, and then he asked for a divorce.

Funny how you can give someone your best years. Still, you end up as a footnote in their success story. Go figure. Sometimes I wonder if he ever really saw me, or just the support I gave him—the invisible scaffolding behind his shiny new tower.

A car accident halfway through, and I spent half a year in the hospital, watching the world go by from above, all its ugliness playing out below.

Stuck in a hospital bed, pain felt both distant and sharp. Morphine dulled the edges, but regret kept me anchored. I’d watch the ceiling tiles and think about all the choices that led me there, every missed chance and silent compromise.

My grandma—the one who made me drop out—got fifty grand from my insurance.

She never missed a beat when it came to cashing in on someone else’s tragedy. Figures. I guess that’s just the way some people are built—always looking for the payout, never the person.

Nathaniel Cole, who I had nothing in common with, married a pregnant grad student within a month. Classy.

It was like watching a rerun of a bad sitcom. Only this time, I wasn’t laughing. He moved on so fast, it was as if our years together never counted. Maybe, to him, they didn’t. Ha.

Then I woke up. Sophomore year. The very day I was supposed to drop out.

The world felt crisper, rawer. My skin prickled with the old anxiety. Still, this time, I wasn’t about to let life steamroll me again.

Nathaniel was waiting outside the office, arms open, trying to comfort me. “Maya Brooks, I’ll help you get into Northwestern!”

He looked so earnest, so sure of himself. Like a puppy with a plan. I almost laughed. I remembered that look from before... the way he always thought he had the answer for everyone else’s problems.

"Get lost! I’ll get into Stanford on my own!" I shot him a glare and shoved open the office door. This time, I meant it.

I felt a surge of adrenaline, a stubborn kind of hope. This time, I wasn’t going to let anyone else write my story.

"Principal, I’m not dropping out!"

My voice came out stronger than I expected. I could feel the eyes in the office flicker with surprise.

Mr. Douglas, the grade director, adjusted his glasses. "Maya, then have your family pay the $1,235.75 in school fees, ASAP."

He said it like he’d rehearsed it a hundred times. The numbers rattled in my head, heavy as bricks.

"I’m here, I’m here!" My grandma barged in carrying a Walmart bag. "Principal, don’t listen to this kid’s nonsense. We’re leaving right now…" She started stuffing my books into the bag, muttering about how much money she could get selling them at the thrift store.

The smell of mothballs and old receipts trailed her in. I felt a hot flush of embarrassment, but I stood my ground. This time, I wasn’t backing down.

"Grandma, put my books down! I’m not dropping out!"

My voice cracked, but I didn’t care. The urge to snatch the bag away burned in my hands.

"If you don’t come home, I don’t have any money. If they hadn’t said they’d pay your tuition, I wouldn’t have let you go to this useless high school!"

She shot me a look that could wilt a houseplant. I clenched my fists, the old helplessness rising up, but I swallowed it down.

Mr. Douglas didn’t like what he was hearing. "Ms. Brooks, when we recruited Maya after the entrance exam, the tuition waiver was conditional. She was supposed to get into a top university. But now she’s dropped from first to 500th. The school can’t support a student who’s not going anywhere!"

His words cut, but I refused to flinch. I remembered every late night, every skipped meal, every time I’d studied by flashlight while my so-called family watched TV in the next room.

"Not going anywhere, fine, let’s go home! At least she’ll be useful there."

Her idea of "useful" was having me deliver newspapers in the morning, do housework during the day, and work at the corner store at night. All the money I earned went to my so-called little brother for his online games.

I remembered the sting of cold dawn on my cheeks, the ache in my arms from hauling stacks of newsprint. It was never enough. Never for me.

"I’m not leaving! Mr. Douglas, I’ll work hard. Please, give me another chance!" I yanked my hand free from my grandma. This time around, I would never give up on my education again!

My heart hammered in my chest. I could almost taste freedom, just beyond her reach. Not this time.

But my grandma grabbed my ear. "You dumb girl, what’s the point of studying? Your dad just died, we have no income! How’s your brother supposed to go to school? You’re just as unlucky as your dead mother!"

The old pain flared up, but I wouldn’t let her see me cry. I straightened my back, defiant.

"Evan isn’t even my dad’s son! You adopted him just for some so-called family name, and now you don’t care if your own granddaughter can go to school!" Just mentioning my brother made me furious, and I shouted it out loud.

The words hung in the air, sharp as glass. I saw the shock flicker in her eyes—she’d never heard me talk back before.

My sudden outburst shocked my grandma, who’d always seen me as obedient. She hesitated, then clutched her chest and collapsed to the floor, putting on an act. "You’re trying to kill me! I can’t live anymore…"

She wailed, clutching at her heart, like she was auditioning for a soap opera. I almost rolled my eyes, but I knew better—drama was her weapon.

Her wailing drew the teachers over. Nathaniel was already gone from the doorway.

Of course, when things got messy, he disappeared. Typical.

I played along, dropping to my knees in front of my grandma and rolling up my uniform sleeves to show my bruised arms. “Grandma, I’m your real granddaughter! I’m still a minor, and you’re forcing me to drop out and marry for cash. That forty-year-old Doug Harper can’t even feed himself. I said no, and you beat me. How could you?”

My voice trembled, just the right amount. I’d learned from the best—her. I could see the teachers’ faces shifting, concern mixing with disbelief.

The teachers and students watching started to question her. Seeing it worked, I crawled a few steps and wailed even louder: "Grandma, please, I’ll get into a good university and earn money for the family…"

My knees hurt on the cheap tile, but I kept it up. Let them see what she really was—let them question her, just this once.

Honestly, I learned these tricks from her. In my last life, after I dropped out, she forced me to marry by kneeling and crying just like this. I ended up hurting Doug Harper, stole my ID, and ran away overnight. I slept on the streets in the city, picked up trash, ate expired sandwiches—only Nathaniel cared about me. His few words of comfort were my only solace. He sent me snacks, and I paid him back with high-priced tutoring fees. But in the end? He looked down on me for dropping out of high school, said I wasn’t good enough for a professor like him. Even though I taught myself and sat in on graduate courses at his school, mastered everything, he still said we had nothing in common. Does a diploma really matter that much? Yes, it does!

That memory stung like a paper cut, but it fueled my resolve. This time, I was going to win on my own terms. No more charity, no more scraps.

This time, I won’t give up. Not ever.

I could almost feel the universe shifting, like the air itself was rooting for me to stand tall.

The crowd grew, and Mr. Douglas worried about the scene. He quickly helped both of us up.

His hand on my arm was gentle, almost fatherly. For a second, I wanted to believe someone in this school actually cared.

"Ms. Brooks, Maya’s only sixteen. You can’t force her to get married. That’s illegal."

The word “illegal” echoed in the room, the first real shield I’d ever had. I clung to it.

My grandma didn’t expect me to put on such a show, but she wasn’t fazed. She just dug in her heels and refused to get up. "If she doesn’t get married, is the school going to pay? If she doesn’t drop out, I’m not paying any tuition!"

She always knew how to play the system—cornered, but not defeated. Her voice was sharp, daring anyone to challenge her.

"Then I will!" My English teacher, Mrs. Hall, couldn’t stand it anymore. She pushed open the door. "Mr. Douglas, Maya is very bright. She did well in middle school, but she’s had no time to study at home. I didn’t know her family situation was like this. I hope the school can waive part of her fees, and I’ll cover the rest!"

Her voice was steady, warm. I felt the first real flicker of hope in months. For once, someone was willing to stand up for me.

"There’s no precedent for that!" Mr. Douglas frowned.

He was all rules and red tape, but I could see his resolve wavering.

Mrs. Hall glanced at my grandma. “I’m planning to apply to get her a dorm room. As long as she doesn’t go home, she’ll definitely get into a top university.”

I remembered the way Mrs. Hall used to look at me—like she saw something worth saving. This time, I wouldn’t let her down.

Last time, when I dropped out, Mrs. Hall tried so hard to keep me. She’d heard from my middle school teachers that I was exceptionally smart and it would be a shame if I didn’t continue. But I was too stupid then. I actually believed Nathaniel when he said girls could only excel before high school, and after that, no matter how hard they tried, they couldn’t keep up with the boys. Plus, I was distracted by a crush and lost interest in studying, my grades slipped, and it became a vicious cycle.

That old lie gnawed at me. I was done letting anyone—Nathaniel, Grandma, even myself—tell me I wasn’t enough.

"Mrs. Hall, I can’t let you take on all this for me." I was grateful, but this was my life—I had to take responsibility for it.

I bit my lip, determined to show her I could stand on my own two feet. Pride and gratitude tangled in my chest.

“Mr. Douglas, I sincerely ask the school to keep supporting me. If I get into Stanford, I’ll pay back every cent, and I’ll help the school with recruiting. Can we do that?”

I could feel the room hold its breath. Even Grandma seemed momentarily stunned by my boldness.

Mr. Douglas nearly spit out his coffee. "Stanford? You sure know how to dream! At Maple Heights High, we’re lucky if one student gets into a top school each year, let alone Stanford!"

His skepticism was almost comical. I saw Mrs. Hall suppress a smile, maybe remembering her own big dreams once.

"I just didn’t have time to study before," I explained, feeling a little sheepish. To be honest, I knew it sounded like a fantasy—after all, I’d barely studied all of sophomore year, and it showed. Mr. Douglas clearly didn’t believe me.

My cheeks burned, but I lifted my chin. I knew what I was capable of, even if no one else did.

"Well, finals are next week. Let’s see your scores before you talk big."

The challenge was clear. I nodded, feeling a thrill of adrenaline. Bring it on.

Mrs. Hall was skeptical too. "Maya, don’t worry about the fees. If you feel bad, pay me back when you start working."

Her kindness softened the tension in the room. I swallowed hard, determined not to let her down.

I fell silent, knowing some things could only be proven with results. In my last life, I sat in on advanced math classes just to have something to talk about with Nathaniel. I even solved a college-level problem faster than anyone else. I trusted my intelligence, and after working for years, my English was good—especially my speaking. My biggest issue now was time. But I had no way out, and I couldn’t show weakness now!

The memory of sitting in those college classrooms, scribbling answers that impressed even the grad students, made me clench my fists with resolve.

"Mr. Douglas, if I make the top ten in finals next week, will the school believe in me then?"

The words came out more confident than I felt, but I saw a flicker of respect in Mrs. Hall’s eyes.

Mrs. Hall patted my shoulder, wanting to say something, but I nodded firmly at her. She turned to plead for me. "Mr. Douglas, I’ll tutor her myself. Just give her one more chance."

Her hand was warm and steady. I felt like I could breathe again.

"If you say so, fine. But if she doesn’t make it, she really can’t stay."

The verdict hung in the air. I nodded, swallowing my fear.

"Deal."

I didn’t even look at my grandma. I snatched the bag from her hands and dragged it back to class.

I felt a rush of triumph. For the first time in years, I was steering my own ship—even if the waves were rough.