Blurb：
Claire Jennings races against fate in this twisted psychological thriller. After being murdered by her "perfect" cousin Dahlia while pregnant, Claire wakes up 17 years earlier—just as Aunt Carol prepares to adopt the six-year-old future killer. Armed with chilling foreknowledge of Dahlia's sinister manipulations (Kindergarten Incident, broken laptop sabotage, adoption fallout), Claire must expose the psychopathic child before history repeats.
Watch Claire manipulate the manipulator in a battle of wits across two timelines. Will her warnings about the dangerous adopted daughter prevent the rooftop tragedy? Can she stop Dahlia's escalating schemes targeting Ryan Jennings and wealthy Uncle Mark's fortune? A story of family betrayal, reincarnation vengeance, and the dark psychology behind a killer's angelic smile.
Perfect for fans of *The Bad Seed* meets *Before I Go to Sleep*, this dark family drama exposes how one adoptee's lies unravel generations. Contains trigger warnings for pregnancy loss and child manipulation.
Content：
§PROLOGUEIn the sterile quiet of a hospital, I woke up screaming.
It wasn't a scream of pain, but of pure, undiluted memory.
A memory of a wind-whipped rooftop, the rough scrape of concrete against my back, and the face of Dahlia—my aunt's adopted perfect daughter—her sweet lips curled into a smile as I fell through the cold, empty air.
I was six months pregnant.
And she was my killer.
§01
The jarring memory dissolved, replaced by the scent of lemon polish and old leather. I was back, lying on the familiar sofa in my parents’ house, the plush cushions a stark contrast to the unforgiving concrete of my nightmares.
The TV was murmuring a rerun of *Succession*, a show whose cynical family dynamics Aunt Carol adored without a trace of irony. On the coffee table, a well-worn copy of *The Great Gatsby* lay open, a relic from my own more idealistic college days.
My mom’s voice, warm and comforting, drifted from the kitchen. "Claire-bear, your Aunt Carol is on the phone. She's thinking of giving you a new little cousin. What do you think?"
A chill, colder than any rooftop wind, snaked down my spine. It was happening.
"She says the social worker found the most adorable little girl at a group home… a real-life angel, she said."
My head snapped up, my muscles tensing.
My phone, lying on the sofa beside me, lit up with a message from my aunt. An attachment downloaded.
On the screen was a photo.
A photo of a painfully beautiful child with wide, innocent eyes and a smile that could melt glaciers. A smile I saw in my dreams every night, right before the fall.
It was Dahlia.
This time, I had to stop the tragedy before it even had a chance to begin.
§02
I stared at that innocent smile, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. The pixels on the screen couldn't capture the cold, calculating void I knew lay behind those eyes.
"Aunt Carol, have you really thought this through?" I said, my voice impressively steady as I walked into the kitchen. My mom was chopping celery, the rhythmic *thump-thump-thump* a counterpoint to my frantic pulse.
I placed the phone, screen-up, on the granite countertop.
"Ryan is already a junior in high school. He’s focused on SATs, college applications… Suddenly having a little sister in the house? Can he really adjust to that kind of disruption?"
Aunt Carol’s voice crackled through the speakerphone. "Oh, Ryan's a good kid, he’ll be a wonderful big brother! He'll be fine. Besides, who wouldn't love a girl as cute as Dahlia? Did you see those eyes?"
I took a deep breath, the clean scent of celery filling my lungs. "You know, my college roommate, Sarah? Her family adopted a boy from the foster system when he was seven. He had so much trauma… hoarding food, telling these elaborate lies. It was a constant struggle. Eventually, he ran away."
"Claire!" Aunt Carol’s voice sharpened, losing its breezy tone. "That’s a terrible thing to say. Are you suggesting every adopted child has problems? That's a very prejudiced, negative way to look at this beautiful opportunity."
My mom paused her chopping, wiping her hands on her apron. "Claire has a point, Carol. Adopting a six-year-old… her personality is already formed. It’s not like bringing home an infant."
"You too, Helen?" Aunt Carol’s voice wobbled, the familiar sound of her on the verge of tears. "I just… I see your posts on Facebook with Claire, going shopping, getting lunch… I'm so jealous. Mark and I have Ryan, and we love him, but… I just want a daughter of my own. Someone to connect with, to share things with."
Watching my mom’s concerned face, I heard the echo of my aunt’s future screams, raw and full of regret. *"I should have listened to Claire! You ungrateful monster!"*
I clenched my fists so tight my nails dug into my palms. Even if it meant breaking her heart now, I had to try.
"Aunt Carol," I said, my voice firm but gentle. "I know a really good family therapist who specializes in adoption. Before you sign any papers, why don't we all go talk to them first? Just to be prepared."
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