Blurb：
After being betrayed and murdered by her half-sister **Makenna Holt** on a stormy skyscraper rooftop, attorney **Avery** awakens 24 hours earlier with a burning mission: dismantle the viper who destroyed her family. This gripping **time-loop revenge thriller** pits **Avery** against her scheming sister within the glass-walled offices of **Summit Legal Group**, where power suits and legal degrees hide brutal family secrets.
When **Makenna Holt**—the rapist's daughter **Avery** foolishly supported—returns demanding tuition money, the reborn lawyer deploys cold courtroom tactics against her sister's crocodile tears. But the real battle unfolds online after **Makenna** weaponizes TikTok sob stories about their mother **Helen**'s traumatic past in **Black Creek Hollow**. Watch **Avery** counter with viral takedowns, Krav Maga-trained vengeance, and a mysterious cosmic force that strips **Makenna** of stolen advantages.
Will **Avery** protect **Helen** from their shared nightmare? Can **Makenna**'s twisted entitlement survive viral humiliation and her guardian **Vernon Gibbs**' violent wrath? This explosive saga of sisterly betrayal blends **legal drama** with **time-loop mechanics**, where every reset exposes deeper layers of **family trauma** and the true price of second chances.
Content：
§01The last thing I ever felt was the cold rush of air as I fell.
Betrayed by my half-sister, Makenna.
The one I’d pulled from the gutter, clothed, and fed.
The one whose college education I was about to pay for.
Her face, framed against the stormy sky on that skyscraper rooftop, wasn’t twisted in anger.
It was serene.
Victorious.
She was even filming it, a perfect little selfie with my sprawling, broken body in the background.
"You owe me, sis," she’d whispered, the wind snatching the words. "Mom only ever loved you. How else was I supposed to get my share?"
Then, the push.
My world dissolved into a screaming vortex of wind, concrete, and a pain so absolute it transcended feeling.
And then… nothing.
Until now.
I gasped, my lungs burning as if they were learning to breathe for the first time.
My eyes snapped open.
Not to the pearly gates, or some fiery abyss.
But to the beige, soul-crushingly familiar ceiling of my office at Summit Legal Group.
Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, glinting off the framed Juris Doctor degree on my wall.
My hands flew to my body.
No broken bones.
No pain.
Just the smooth fabric of my work blouse.
I scrambled for my phone.
The date on the screen burned itself into my retinas.
It was the day before.
The day before she killed me.
My heart hammered against my ribs, a wild drumbeat of terror and impossible hope.
I was back.
I was alive.
Just then, the intercom on my desk buzzed, a sterile, cheerful sound that made my blood run cold.
The receptionist’s voice chirped through.
"Avery? Your sister, Makenna Holt, is here to see you."
§02
For a moment, I forgot how to breathe.
Makenna.
Here.
Now.
The old Avery, the one who died twenty-four hours from now, would have buzzed her up with a warm smile.
The old Avery is dead.
She made sure of that.
"Send her in," I said, my voice a low, steady thing I didn't recognize.
The door clicked open, and there she was.
Seventeen years old, dressed in worn-out jeans and a faded hoodie, clutching a thick envelope to her chest.
She looked exactly like she did in my memories—the picture of innocence, a fragile flower beaten down by life.
Her eyes, wide and blue, filled with expertly crafted tears as soon as they met mine.
"Avery!" she wailed, rushing forward. "I’ve missed you so much!"
She tried to wrap her arms around my legs, the same way a child would.
I took a sharp step back.
My heel clicked against the marble floor, a sound like a gavel falling.
She stumbled, her act momentarily faltering, and looked up at me with genuine confusion.
"I know," she began, the tears flowing on cue, "a girl like me, with no master’s degree, I have no future."
She crawled towards me, holding out the envelope.
The acceptance letter from Blackwater Ridge Community College.
"Please, sis," she sobbed, her voice thick with practiced desperation. "I’ll pay you back, I swear! When I make money, I’ll buy you a house!"
A bitter laugh escaped my lips.
I looked down at her, this viper masquerading as a lost puppy.
"A rapist's daughter," I said, the words cold and sharp as shards of ice, "dares to call me sister?"
§03
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