My Parents' Biased Blessing, Reborn I Refuse It

When it came time to submit college applications, my parents made a point of calling my sister home, six months pregnant, to help decide.

Your sister already had it hard, leaving home. You should stay close and have an easy life.

They went through every college catalog and settled on a nursing associate's degree right on our doorstep.

My sister nodded along, and I did as I was told.

Three years later, when my classmates were all out doing internships, my parents kept me at home.

"Don't bother working. We'll take care of you."

"And don't rush into marriage either. You're soft. You'd only get pushed around at your in-laws'."

I obeyed again. I used the nursing skills I'd learned to look after my paralyzed grandmother and to watch my sister's children.

Five years passed. I worked day and night, worn down until my hair went gray early.

And my sister became a respected leader, while my parents became the devoted family everyone praised.

Later, I fell ill and never got up again.

Near the end, my parents saw the worry knotted on my face.

"We've always favored you in everything. We never pushed you to earn money, never pushed you to marry. What more could you want?"

I couldn't work it out, and I couldn't answer.

Why was it that everything they called "good" left me this miserable?

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of submitting applications.

There was a voice in my heart.

This time, I'm going far away, and I'm never coming back

1.

"I don't want to stay close to home. I'm going out of state."

The words were out before I knew it, and even I froze for a second.

In my past life, I'd swallowed this for five whole years.

Now it came out just like that, easy as anything.

"What did you say?"

My mother's smile froze.

"You don't want to be near home? What's so great about out of state!"

My father's face went hard too.

"Nonsense!"

He pointed at my sister.

"Do you have any idea how much your sister sacrificed for you again?"

"Her work is so important, and she's carrying a baby, and she still came all the way back to help with your applications. And this is how you act?"

I turned and looked at my sister, sitting across from me.

One hand braced on her high, swollen belly, her eyes were hard to read.

For as long as I could remember, my parents always said it.

"Gay Henson, your sister has put up with a lot for your sake."

I knew they had a point.

When we were young, if my sister's grades slipped, my father took a cane to her.

When I failed a test, my parents only smiled.

"It's fine. Gay's still little. Being happy is what matters."

My sister's weekends were packed with tutoring and every kind of competition.

My weekends, I spent playing games on my phone as long as I liked.

My sister's room was stacked with textbooks and workbooks.

My room, the closet was crammed with plushies and Barbie dolls.

Everyone said my parents favored me.

Even with the college applications, it was the same.

They told my sister to apply out of state.

"Young people should learn to work hard. Don't be afraid of being far from home. If you don't push yourself, how will you protect your little sister?"

Five years passed, and now it was my turn to apply.

They called my sister home on purpose, just to help me pick a major that was close and easy.

They really were good to me. So good that even on my deathbed, I believed that love was real.

So why wasn't I the least bit happy?

I remember, right after I graduated, my classmates and I talked about interning in another city.

My parents took hold of me, hearts aching.

"An internship is too hard. Better to stay home. We'll take care of you."

My classmates all envied me, said my parents were the most open-minded parents in the world.

But the day after I moved back home, they had a "job" all lined up for me.

Looking after my paralyzed grandmother, and minding my sister's two-year-old.

"Didn't you study nursing? Now you can put it into practice. This is what a real internship looks like."

So I was busy from six in the morning to eleven at night, like a machine that never stopped turning.

When my sister's child cried in the night, I held it and soothed it. When my grandmother needed the toilet in the middle of the night, I was the one who helped her up and walked her there.

Day and night, I never slept through a single night, worn down until my hair went gray early.

The time I collapsed from exhaustion, one thought surfaced in my head for the first time.

"Are my parents really doing this for my own good?"

But the next second, I shook my head and stamped it out.

They didn't need me to earn money, they were willing to support me, they asked nothing of me. Wasn't that good enough?

The second year after I graduated, my sister had her second child.

Alone, I looked after my grandmother, took the older one to and from school, and rocked the little one to sleep, run off my feet from morning to night.

Later, people heard how dutiful and devoted I was, and matchmakers came asking on someone's behalf.

But my parents turned every one of them away.

"Gay is honest and dutiful, and she's got such a soft nature. She'd only get pushed around at her in-laws'."

"We can't bear to see her suffer. We'd rather keep her with us our whole lives."

When word got out, everyone praised them.

"No pressure to marry, no pressure to work. Truly a model for parents these days."

"I dream of parents like that. Gay Powell is so lucky!"

But was that really true?

I served as nurse, nanny, housekeeper, and cook for five full years, and I didn't have a single cent to my name.

On my twenty-fifth birthday, I had my eye on a red scarf. A hundred and twenty-nine dollars.

I put my hand out to my parents for the money, and they frowned.

"The household has a lot of expenses. Don't be so free with money."

"Your sister has a brown one. You can make do with that."

When I wanted to buy a coat in winter, my parents were unhappy again.

"You're home all day. Clothes just need to be comfortable. No need to put on airs."

Later, when I fell ill and couldn't get up, my uncle came to see me.

He'd only been there a while before he lost his temper out in the living room.

"The two of you don't look after your own mother, don't mind your own grandkids, and you dump it all on Gay alone. Her whole life has been ruined by you!"

My father clearly wasn't having it.

"We didn't send her out to slave away at some job. She only looks after the family. That's already the good life!"

My mother's voice went sour too.

"A nurse costs money. A housekeeper costs money. Gay studied nursing. It saves the expense and we can trust her. What's wrong with that?"

"Good? Then why don't you have Celeste Powell do it?"

My uncle's voice was cold.

"Gay may be adopted, but even so, you've been far too unfair to her!"

Adopted.

My mind went blank with a roar.

Before I could even begin to make sense of it, my eyelids sank shut.

Now, I understand it all.

Staying close, studying nursing, none of it was ever for me.

It was for my paralyzed grandmother, for my sister's children, to save the cost of a nurse and a housekeeper.

My life had been mapped out long ago.

Even my college applications had been engineered.

Now, I was back on this day again.

I gritted my teeth and said it again.

"I've made up my mind. I'm going out of state for school!"

"No!"

My father shot to his feet, worked up.

"You've never once lived away from home. You go out of state, how are you going to take care of yourself?"

My voice stayed light. "I can learn."

"Learn?"

He gave a cold snort. "You think wanting to learn means you'll manage? You're being naive."

My mother shook her head too. "Gay, if you stay close by, you can still come home on weekends and eat. I'll make you soup, build you back up."

She dabbed at her eyes, as though there were tears there. "It's so hard out there. Your father and I can't bear to let you go"

I kept my head down and said nothing.

Just as I thought. They'd already mapped out my road.

In the name of loving me.

Then, out of nowhere, my sister spoke up.

"Mom, Dad, maybe we should hear what Gay wants. This is about her future, after all."

My father whipped his head toward her. "Don't stir up trouble."

She flinched and shrank back, but forced herself to keep going. "With Gay's scores, in-state she can only get into a community college. Out of state, she could get a four-year degree. Same scores, so why not let her try for something better?"

My father's mouth twitched, once and again. "What difference does an associate's make versus a bachelor's? It's not like she'll live off that."

"You put yourself through the misery, fine, but how can you stand to make your sister suffer too?"

My mother nodded quickly. "Gay, your father and I are providing for you. You don't have to wear yourself out the way your sister did."

She reached out to take my hand.

I pulled it back.

"Stop pushing me."

That one line dropped the room into silence for a beat.

"Pushing you? We're doing this for your own good!"

My father's temper surged up. "You're the only one who can't tell good from bad!"

Something seemed to click for my sister. She looked at me, concerned. "Gay, is there a school you have your heart set on?"

I looked at her.

"I want to go to a directed-enrollment academy. Like you did."

The words were barely out before both my parents' faces changed again.

My father went red to the ears. "Look at your scores! Look at what your sister scored the year she got into the National Institute of Defense Technology, and then look at what you've got. Do you even come close?"

My mother panicked too. "Gay, your sister had it rough! Look at her hands, all calluses, her legs covered in scars. Don't put yourself through that!"

I shook my head slightly. "There are plenty of schools like that all over the country. Not all of them need top scores."

"Whatever my sister could take, I can take too."

My sister opened her mouth to say something.

Then she glanced at our parents' faces and swallowed it back.

"No means no!"

My father marched straight to the computer. "This matters too much. I won't have you messing around."

He filled in the application for me himself, submitted it, then changed the password.

I watched, still, and didn't move.

My mother looked at the confirmation screen and smiled, like something had eased in her.

"Gay, don't hold it against us. Everything we do is for your good."

"You're still young. There's a lot you don't understand. We'd never do anything to hurt you."

If not for my past life, I really would have believed her.

I knew arguing was useless, so I turned and walked out the door.

Partway there, I called my homeroom teacher.

She listened to what I told her, then went quiet for a moment.

"If you don't have the password and can't change the application yourself, you can bring your ID to the in-person registration site and apply to reset it."

I wanted to go home and get my ID card and exam admission slip. I'd just reached the front door when I heard voices talking inside.

My feet stopped, and it felt like I'd been dropped into a pit of ice.

"Did you put her documents away safely?"

"Yes, all locked up."

"Good. She can't be allowed to change that application."

That was Mom and Dad.

Celeste's voice came next, hesitant.

"But this isn't fair to Gay"

"Fair? We raised her for eighteen years, fed her, clothed her, and now it's a problem to ask her to give something back to this family?"

Mom paused, and her worked-up tone softened into concern.

"You're due any day now, work runs you ragged, your in-laws died in the line of duty, and your husband's stationed at a classified agency. If she doesn't help raise the baby, then who?"

Dad's voice went gentle too.

"Celeste, you have a real future ahead of you. Go chase it. Your mother and I will keep the home together for you."

"Gay may be adopted, but she's still family. With her helping you, we can rest easy."

Celeste was quiet for a few seconds.

"But is Gay willing?"

Mom laughed, and it was the laugh of someone who found it all perfectly obvious.

"We just won't ask her! When has that girl ever had a mind of her own?"

Then she shifted, dropping her voice.

"And don't you dare say the word 'adopted' in front of her. That stays buried."

Celeste lowered her voice too.

"Mom, she is Mr. Henson's daughter, after all her father saved our whole family."

For a moment, Mom and Dad went silent.

"Her father was a firefighter. Saving people was his job."

"And besides, haven't we been good enough to her these eighteen years?"

"We never let her go without, never forced her into anything. Go ask around. Where else will you find parents as good as us?"

My heart was pounding.

In my last life, I heard only those two words, "adopted," and then I died. I never knew a thing about my birth parents.

I made myself calm and typed the keywords into my phone. A local news forum came up.

"Catastrophic fire at Southgate Mall. Firefighter Elijah Henson re-entered the blaze twice and died. The infant in his wife Glenda Fletcher's arms survived by a miracle"

There were comments under the post.

"Elijah Henson saved a family of three first, and only then went back for his own wife and child. So heartbreaking. The fire was too much. Both of them gone"

"That baby was only five or six months old. Losing both parents so young. It's tragic."

"I heard that family of three later adopted Elijah Henson's daughter. Repaying the debt, I suppose"

There was a photo attached too.

It was Rudolph Powell, Ellie Weiss, and Celeste, the three of them.

I'd seen the family portrait they'd taken. It was exactly the same.

So my real name was Gay Henson.

It was only after the Powells adopted me that I became Gay Powell.

Once I'd steadied myself, I went inside.

Mom had already laid out a full table of food.

"Gay, come eat. I made your favorite, sweet-and-sour fish."

Dad took a drink out of the fridge.

"Cold orange juice for you. Let me pour it."

They were all smiles, as if none of it had happened.

I walked over.

The table was covered with the dishes I loved best, sweet-and-sour fish, braised pork, buttered shrimp

I glanced at Celeste.

In front of her was a low-sugar meal, dietary and joyless. She had no appetite for it.

Mom smiled.

"Gay's the treasure of this house, so she gets the good food. Poor Celeste has to go without."

The old me would have thought my parents were playing favorites again.

But I knew now. Celeste's blood sugar was high, and the doctor had put her on a strict low-sugar diet.

It wasn't that my parents didn't love her. They loved her, and on top of it they were building her a reputation as the one who "goes without."

I ate that meal without tasting a thing.

While they were clearing up in the dining room, I went into my room to find my documents.

Sure enough, the ID card and admission ticket that used to be in the drawer were gone.

And in my parents' bedroom, the drawer that always stood open now had a lock on it.

I said nothing. I just made up an excuse and left the house.

At the admissions office, the staff looked at the screenshots of my digital ID card and admission ticket, ran a facial-recognition check, and reset my password for me.

Right there, I changed my application back to the directed-enrollment military academy in the early associate-track round.

At the same time, I changed the mailing address for my acceptance letter to the school.

Everything was in order. Now I only had to wait for the acceptance.

This time, I was leaving.

Leaving far away.

And never coming back.

My college applications were already in.

But Celeste still hadn't left.

I happened to see her medical records, and it turned out she'd come home to protect the pregnancy, not because of my applications.

That night she started bleeding, and my parents panicked and rushed her to the hospital.

When they came back the next day, they both looked worn out.

"Your sister's pregnancy is unstable. The doctor says she needs to be hospitalized to keep the baby."

They shot me a glance, laced with blame.

"Look at that. She wore herself down worrying over your business, and you still can't show a little sense?"

Of course.

The moment anything happened to Celeste, she was the one being wronged.

And I was the one taking advantage.

Before, I really would have felt guilty.

But this time, I said nothing.

Mom was packing clothes, getting ready to go stay at the hospital.

Just then, Dad's phone rang.

It was Grandma Powell.

She'd fallen while working.

I thought about it for a moment.

In my last life, it was exactly this time too. She'd been shucking corn and slipped and fell.

After that, she never stood up again.

Later, my parents brought her over from back home and moved her into my room.

Grandma was still crying out on the line, and the sound of it threw Dad into a panic.

Celeste on one side, Grandma on the other.

In the end, the two of them had to split the work.

Dad went back home to look after Grandma, and Mom went to the hospital to look after Celeste.

As she left, my mom looked at me with a complicated expression.

"It'd be best if you didn't get in this time."

In my last life, I hadn't understood that sentence.

This time, I did.

Nursing school was so I could take care of Celeste's baby.

Not going meant I could start right away, taking care of Grandma and Celeste both.

Either way, they came out ahead.

Half a month later, the admissions results began rolling out.

I logged into the system and checked my status.

Millbrook Vocational College, directed-enrollment program. Admitted.

The corners of my mouth lifted a little.

Perfect.

My parents were getting ready to head out, both of them exhausted.

Today they were bringing Celeste and Grandma home from the hospital.

Then the doorbell rang.

My deskmate, Jemima James, stood at the door, waving an envelope in her hand.

"Gay, your acceptance letter got mailed to the school! I grabbed it for you on my way over!"

Three pairs of eyes swung straight to her.

I lunged to snatch it, but my dad was faster.

"I was wondering why it hadn't come yet. Why was it sent to the school?"

He moved to tear it open right there.

I quickly pressed down on his hand.

"Dad, aren't you supposed to go pick up Grandma? And Mom, you're supposed to bring Celeste home."

"Why don't we wait until the whole family's together to open it."

My palms were sweating, and even my legs were trembling a little.

My dad shook my hand off.

"We'll look now, and look again when they get back."

I grabbed hold of him again, fast.

"But Grandma and Celeste are waiting"

"No rush, no rush. It's a one-minute thing."

He held on to the envelope, refusing to let go.

"Your business is what matters most."

Even now, he couldn't resist a bit of playacting.

I turned to look at my mom.

"In that case, shouldn't there be a little ceremony for a moment like this?"

My mom remembered right away.

"Yes, yes, record a video, set off the party poppers!"

When Celeste opened her acceptance letter before, the whole family had done exactly this.

She called out to Dad.

"Go get the party poppers from the storage room, and I'll set up the phone stand."

Dad nodded with a smile and put the envelope back in my hands.

A moment later, they were both ready.

"Come on, come on, everyone line up. Gay in the middle."

Dad had his hand on a party popper, and Mom got the phone stand adjusted.

Once the shot was framed, they shouted.

"Okay, open it now!"

Under their eager stares, I slowly reached out and slid the acceptance letter from the envelope