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Rising From Ashes: My Reincarnated Love

Rising From Ashes: My Reincarnated Love

Author: fdfsgg
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Chapter 1 

Word Count: 803    |    Released on: 15/05/2026

open. Cora Foster stepped into the brightly lit vest

lickered. They instantly illuminated the pu

back her soaked hood just enough to see the aisles

from her jawline to her temple. It was

exit stopped dead in his tracks. He sucked in a sha

his tires squeaking against the linoleum. He avoided her gaze co

, painful knot. She forced herself to ignore the reaction. She walked

gripped the handle. She walked down aisle four and picked up a discoun

et employee named Trish Kowalski turned her

's hand slipped. It hit th

, her upper lip curling in disgust. She took a physica

ck a row of canned tomatoes. "Don't stare," Sharon murmured under her breath, her eyes fixed on the shelf but her voice tight wit

rip on the basket handle, the cheap plastic digging into her palm. She pretended th

y toward the checkout lanes. She stopped

eked over her mother's shoulder. He

mouth fell open. Then, she let ou

tany and yanked the child into her chest. Karen's eyes found Cora

iet store. "Coming out looking like that in the middle of the night? Yo

s turned to look. Their eyes were f

hard it physically hurt. Her throat closed

at the scuffed toes of her canvas sneakers

ed her bags and dragged her crying daughter toward the exi

She placed her single box of ma

used to look up. Tammy kept h

peed. Her fingers visibly trembled as

Tammy muttered

lammed the change onto the counter, and tossed the receipt next t

d up and pulled her hood far forward, completely hi

glass doors and stepped back

d skin of her scar. It stun

She lowered her head against the wind and started

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Rising From Ashes: My Reincarnated Love
Rising From Ashes: My Reincarnated Love
“Cora Foster was a brilliant archaeologist, but a jagged burn scar across her face made the world treat her like a contagious monster. During an elite excavation of a Gilded Age crypt, touching an ancient artifact triggered a terrifying memory. She remembered being Seraphina Beaumont, a socialite brutally buried alive by her vain, cruel sister, Isolde. When the team pried open the crypt's pristine mahogany casket, they cheered, believing the mummified corpse inside was Seraphina. But Cora recognized the onyx hairpin and the angular jawline. It was Isolde. The sister who had stolen her life, mocked her agony, and left her to suffocate in the dark. Her colleagues scoffed at her forensic proof, dismissing her as a scarred, delusional liability. Worse, the ruthless billionaire funding the expedition, Julian Montgomery, was the spitting image of Alistair-the man Seraphina had deeply loved. Why was Julian staring at her ruined face with such intense, inexplicable recognition? And why did Isolde take Seraphina's most precious silver ring to the grave? Driven by a century of agonizing grief, Cora secretly pried the tarnished ring from the mummy's stiff, dead fingers and dropped it into her pocket. "What are you looking at, Foster?" Julian's deep voice vibrated inches from her ear, his cold, predatory eyes locked directly onto her half-open pocket.”