"It will be chilly for the rest of this month. For the past few weeks, the flu has been on the rise. Please protect yourself by washing your hands…”

Emma's eyes snapped open at the sound of the radio announcer's voice, jolting her awake. Despite the haze of sleep that still clung to her mind, her senses immediately sharpened. As her brain cleared, her senses explored the room. It was small and dimly lit, with weak morning light filtering in through grimy windows covered with tattered curtains. The air was stale, tinged with the musty scent of decay that seemed to permeate every corner of the dilapidated building.

She had fallen asleep on an old, faded sofa, as she often did after a late shift at work. She found herself back in her apartment, staring at the calendar hanging on the wall. March 8, 2020. One month before the apocalypse happened.

Emma’s heart raced, her pulse quickening as she realized she was unharmed. She had been given another chance.

But before she could fully comprehend the magnitude of her task, the shrill ring of her phone shattered the silence. With trembling hands, Emma reached for the device, her pulse quickening with each ring. She knew who it was before she even looked at the caller ID. Her mother. "Hello?" Emma answered.

"Emma, can you come home tonight?" her mother's voice crackled through the receiver. "We haven’t seen you in a long time. We miss you.”

Emma's stomach churned at the familiar request. They didn’t miss her; they missed the money she brought in each month.

"Okay, I will come," Emma replied, her voice strained with the weight of unspoken truths. She knew what awaited her at the family mansion – a confrontation with her parents, a battle to retain her own autonomy.

Emma made her way out of the apartment and hailed a cab. As the vehicle sped towards her childhood home, she felt a sense of liberation wash over her. For years, she had sacrificed her own happiness for the sake of others, always putting their needs before her own. But after glimpsing memories of her past life, she was done caring for anyone but herself. From now on, it was about survival – about reclaiming what was rightfully hers and forging her own path in a world teetering on the edge of oblivion.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

With a deep breath, Emma stepped out of the cab and approached the fancy double doors of the mansion. The imposing structure loomed before her, casting a shadow over the manicured lawn. As she crossed the threshold of the familiar lawn into the house, her mother awaited her.

"There's my little Emma," her mother cooed, her voice laced with thinly veiled affection. "Let's go in for dinner, shall we?"

Emma nodded, her jaw set in determination as she followed her mother into the lavish dining room. The lavish space was adorned with crystal chandeliers and fine silk draperies, a stark contrast to the dingy apartment she had just left behind. There, her brother and father sat already eating. Emma looked at the food placed on the dinner table – a spread of seafood and a plate of carefully prepared vegetables. Of course, just like last life. They had purposely done that, making sure she could take no advantage of this house; she was allergic to seafood.

After just having a few bites of the vegetables, Emma’s dad started talking, “Emma, your brother is marrying soon.”

The announcement hung in the air like a heavy cloth, suffocating Emma with its implications. She forced a smile, masking her churning insides. “Congratulations,” Emma said, her voice strained with forced enthusiasm. Last life, this was when she was forced to give up her grandparents' assets to ensure her brother had enough money to buy a house. “When is the wedding?” She looked over at her brother Liam.

Liam’s eyes met Emma’s, his expression a mix of anticipation and nervousness. “Well, you know, we haven’t decided yet. Because Vivian’s parents are saying that we need a house if we were to, you know, marry. So that is why I have been thinking… you know, Emma, can you switch this house to be put under my name?”

Emma’s heart sank as she heard this request again in this new life. For the past nineteen years, she had sacrificed so much for this family just to earn their love.

Growing up, Emma realized her parents preferred having a son instead of her. They even considered aborting her before she was born, but the doctor advised against it for her mom's safety. Emma felt unwanted by her parents, but her grandparents loved her dearly. They saw potential in her, especially since her parents weren't great with money due to gambling issues.

As Emma got older, she showed she could handle things on her own. Her grandparents left her their mansion and jewelry when they passed away, knowing she'd make good use of it. While her parents blew through the rest of their money gambling, they couldn't touch the mansion because it was in Emma's name.

Emma found ways to make money online and through her own little store, pulling in around twenty grand a month. She split this money, putting half into savings and giving the other half to her family, despite their past neglect.

“No. It’s my house. Why would I put it under your name?” Emma replied, her eyes boring into her brother.

At once, her dad, Ryan, slammed his fork against the plate. “Put the house under his name,” he ordered.