Revoking My Sister's Free Ride Chapter 1

After my parents divorced, they dumped my younger sister, Chloe, on me. I had just turned eighteen.

I didn't want her to suffer the broken home trauma I did, so I shielded her. I gave her everything.

When she bombed her SATs, I liquidated my savings to send her abroad. I worked three jobs to fund her doctorate.

When she returned as a high-earning Ivy League grad, I was dying. The stress and overwork had given me terminal cancer.

She was making six figures a month, but she wouldn't give me a dime for treatment.

"Harper, didn't you teach me that self-care comes first? Paying for your chemo would really impact my quality of life."

A month later, as I lay rotting in a hospice bed, I saw her Instagram post. A photo of her and our parents in front of a new mansion.

Caption: Reunited at last. Bought this villa for Mom, Dad, and the inner child in me.

Before I took my last breath, I received a 30,000-word email from her. It was a manifesto of how much she hated me.

Then, I opened my eyes.

I was back. Back to the day I took her in.

This time, I’m not going to be the savior. Let’s see how you survive without my wallet, Chloe.

* * *

"Harper, she's your flesh and blood. You're the older sister; you have to step up. Who else is going to take her?"

I looked at the girl standing in front of me, head down, looking meek and terrified. I listened to my mother’s gaslighting, and I realized I was back.

In my past life, my relationship with my parents was toxic. They cut me off the moment I turned eighteen. My tuition, my rent—I earned every cent by scrubbing floors and waiting tables.

They never cared if I starved. But the moment I landed a stable corporate job, they reappeared, demanding I raise their "mistake."

In my last life, I looked at Chloe and saw myself. I softened. I promised to break the cycle. I raised her with "Gentle Parenting." I gave her money, freedom, and unconditional love.

I raised her to be confident and bright, while I worked myself into an early grave.

And she repaid me by letting me die, terrified that my medical bills would cut into her shopping budget.

She claimed her failures were my fault. That I was too lenient. That she could have gone to Harvard if I had pushed her harder.

Fine.

"I didn't give birth to her," I said, my voice cold. "You wanted a second kid to fix your marriage. You fix this."

I shoved Chloe out the door and slammed it shut.

Muffled screaming and crying echoed from the hallway.

I remembered her manifesto. She said we should be selfish.

Okay, Chloe. Message received. This time, I’m keeping all my love for myself.