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Reborn From The Lake: My Stoic Savior

Chapter 2 

Word Count: 724    |    Released on: 30/04/2026

's arm. They climbed into a rusting, dented pickup truck. The eng

nt door. The air inside hit her instantly-a

bald in the center. The paint on the coffee table was chipped

r sit. Without a word, Corda turned and rushed

She closed her eyes. Her brain acted like a radar, map

f the hallway. It sounded like bare fe

ze locked onto the corner of the ha

peeked around the corner. She wore faded den

iles. This was her older brot

forced her facial muscles to relax into a warm, non-thre

lip, then slowly shuffled her bare fee

She simply patted the empty cushion ne

all fingers together. In a tiny whisper, she ask

t her tone light and casual. "God tho

ders dropped. A small dimple appea

, conversational tone to extract information. She

hing. She said her mom, Brenda, broke three plates in th

econd. She filed Brenda's name under 'immedia

nfused. She asked Mia if she remembered what

rying while holding a pink envelope. Then, Kurtis was

cramp of phantom heartbreak ripped through her ribs. Bridget ruth

d. Mia deepened her voice, mimicking a te

nto a cold, mocking smirk. The puzzle was compl

from the kitchen. Corda walked out

ike a startled rabbit and

girl. She opened her mouth, ready to y

nd Mia's small shoulders. She cut Corda off,

the tension leaving her face. She set the

eped into her freezing palms. She looke

e months. Within three months, she wa

r eyes sharpened into blades. But fir

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Reborn From The Lake: My Stoic Savior
Reborn From The Lake: My Stoic Savior
“Bridget, a ruthless twenty-first-century Wall Street analyst, woke up violently coughing up murky lake water in a decaying 1978 slum. She quickly realized she was trapped in the body of a naive, marginalized teenager who had just committed suicide over a boy's cruel rejection. The original girl had been mercilessly bullied by a fake rich kid named Kurtis and his cruel followers. They had publicly read her desperate love letters out loud, mocking her as a toad trying to eat swan meat, and simply watched as she threw herself into the freezing water. Now, her impoverished mother was left weeping by the bed, facing catastrophic debt and total social ruin in their small town. Everyone expected the surviving girl to wake up begging and crying for the boy who humiliated her. Instead, a cold, calculating fury took over Bridget's analytical mind. "I already died in that lake. That stupid girl is never coming back." How could anyone throw their life away for a pathetic, vain clown wearing a mass-produced fifty-dollar watch? To Bridget, those uncollected love letters weren't symbols of teenage heartbreak. They were toxic assets. They were reputation landmines left out in the open that threatened her new family's survival. Locking away the dead girl's weak emotions, Bridget forced her freezing, exhausted body out of the clinic bed. She set a hard three-month deadline to drag this family out of tier-one poverty. But first, she was marching straight to the volunteer camp to liquidate those liabilities and completely destroy the people who drove this body to death.”