I Make My Parents Pay

I was just eighteen years old when I died inside the Scott family villa's dog cage.
The rain outside the iron cage poured heavily, drowning out the Tibetan Mastiff's bark.
When that dog lunged at me, I could still hear Yolanda Scott's laughter, saying, Sister, Black Ball has been hungry for three days—just consider it feeding him.
My arm was torn open, blood mixed with rainwater seeping through the gaps at the bottom of the cage, sticky and grimy.
The next time I regained consciousness, I was in the hospital morgue.
Morgan Scott and Mary Lewis stood beside me. Mary wiped her tears with a handkerchief, but there was no trace of sorrow in her voice: "Luckily, the heart is still usable. Yolanda is waiting for a lifesaving transplant."
Morgan Scott nodded, clutching the organ donation agreement. The pen he used to sign twirled between his fingers. "Don't let the Lincoln family come over. It'll only cause trouble."
I floated in midair, watching them finish signing the papers, watching the nurse place my heart into the thermal box.
Then I saw James Lincoln and Linda Clark rush in. Linda collapsed beside the mortuary table, crying so hard she nearly fainted: "My Blair, how could they do this to you!"
James Lincoln tried to hold me, but was stopped by a security guard. Morgan Scott stepped forward, his voice cold as ice: "You abused my daughter and still have the nerve to come here?"
After that day, the internet was flooded with insults aimed at the Lincoln family.
Some said James Lincoln and his wife kidnapped the Scott family's daughter and abused her; others claimed they were greedy and refused to return me to my biological parents.
Linda Clark could no longer bear the curses and drank pesticide at her own doorstep.
When James Lincoln found her, the pesticide bottle was still clenched in her hand, the label on the bottle crushed and wrinkled.
After arranging Linda Clark's funeral, he hanged himself in Blair Lincoln's room.
I stared at their bodies; my soul felt like it was submerged in ice water, unable to even produce a sound of crying.
Later, Mary Lewis gave an interview and said in front of the camera, "We searched for Blair for eighteen years, but never expected she would be corrupted by such people, to the point of not even recognizing her own biological parents."
Yolanda sat beside her, her eyes red: "If sister were willing to come back, I would give her everything, but she..."
They portrayed themselves as pitiful victims, nailing me and the Lincoln family to the pillar of shame.
I thought I would drift forever until I saw Morgan Scott pour my ashes into the trash can.
When I opened my eyes again, I was lying on the Lincoln family's bed, and outside the window, the chickens had just crowed.
Linda Clark came in carrying a bowl of corn porridge. Seeing that I was awake, she quickly put the bowl down: "Blair, what's wrong? Did you have a nightmare?"
I touched my arm; it was smooth, without a single wound.
The calendar on the wall showed June 18, 2023—the very day Morgan Scott and Mary Lewis came to recognize their kinship.
The sound of a car came from outside the courtyard gate. Linda Clark's hand paused, a flicker of panic in her eyes: "They still come."
I threw off the quilt and got out of bed, my heart pounding not from fear, but from hatred.
In this lifetime, I will no longer allow them to harm even the slightest bit of the Lincoln family.
A black Mercedes was parked outside the courtyard gate. Mary Lewis wore a dress and high heels; when she saw me, her eyes reddened.
She hurried forward, trying to grab my hand: "Blair, I am your mother!"
I took a half step back, evading her hand.
In my previous life, I was deceived by her gentle demeanor, believing I had found my biological mother, believing at last I had a complete family.
But what was the result?
I looked at Mary Lewis, my voice as cold as ice: "You have the wrong person."
Mary Lewis's hand froze midair, her expression stunned: "Blair, how can you say that? I am your mother!"
Morgan Scott stepped out of the car, dressed in a suit, his hair impeccably combed, his gaze toward me heavy with entitled arrogance: "Child, we have searched for you for eighteen years. The DNA test was done long ago. You are our daughter."
I turned to look at James Lincoln and Linda Clark; they stood behind me. Linda's hand clenched the corner of her apron so tightly that her knuckles went white.
I walked over, took their hands, and said in a soft yet resolute voice, "I have a father and mother; they are right here."
James Lincoln was momentarily stunned, then shielded me behind him and said to Mr. Scott, "Mr. Scott, Blair has been our daughter for eighteen years. She doesn't want to leave with you, so please don't force her."
Mary Lewis grew anxious, tears streaming down immediately. "Blair, do you blame us? Blame us for not finding you sooner?"
"We have never stopped searching for you all these years. If it weren't for Yolanda being ill, we would have..."
She stopped halfway, as if she had accidentally let something slip.

I sneered inwardly. In my last life, I overlooked that sentence. It wasn't until I died that I realized they were looking for me not out of care, but because Yolanda Scott needed my heart.
I looked at Mary and asked, "You said Yolanda Scott is ill—what kind of illness does she have?"
Mary's eyes flickered, and she quickly changed the subject. "Blair, let's go home first. I will explain everything when we get back, okay? The Scott family's house is very big, and I've already prepared your room."
"I'm not going back." I cut her off, "I was left at the orphanage's doorstep when I was born. It was my parents who took me in. They are my real family."
Morgan Scott's face darkened. He stared at James Lincoln, his tone dripping with contempt: "You're just a country bumpkin. What can you possibly give Blair? We can send her to the best schools, put her in the finest homes. Can you?"
James Lincoln's face flushed crimson as he clenched his fists: "I may not have money, but I will never let Blair suffer injustice!"
"Whether she suffers injustice is not for you to decide."
Morgan waved his hand, and two bodyguards dressed in black got out of the car. "Bring the young lady into the car."
The bodyguard hurried over and reached out to grab me.
James Lincoln immediately stepped in front of me and pushed the bodyguard away. "Don't come any closer!"
The bodyguard hadn't expected him to resist, faltered slightly, then grew angry. He grabbed James Lincoln's arm and pinned him against the wall.
"Dad!" I shouted, wanting to rush forward, but another bodyguard grabbed my wrist.
His grip was powerful, and my wrist ached sharply under his hold.
The commotion at the courtyard gate drew the villagers over. Madam Warren, still clutching a hoe, rushed forward and shouted, "How could you force her in the broad daylight?"
Village chief Mr. Leo arrived as well. He looked at Morgan Scott with a grave expression: "Mr. Scott, this is our village's matter. If you continue like this, I will have to call the police."
The villagers surrounded and completely blocked the car.
Morgan Scott glared at the villagers encircling him, his face darkening further, but he dared not order his bodyguards to act — causing a disturbance here would only tarnish the Scott family's reputation.
Mary Lewis quickly tried to smooth things over: "Village chief, we just want to take our daughter home, nothing more."
"Who is your daughter?" I broke free from the bodyguard's grip and approached the village chief. "Mr. Leo, they're determined to take me away, but I don't want to go."
The village chief nodded and said to Morgan Scott, "Mr. Scott, Blair doesn't want to go with you. You'd better leave for now."
Morgan Scott clenched his teeth, shot me a fierce glare, then got into the car with Mary Lewis and the bodyguards.
As the car drove off, Mary Lewis still pressed against the window watching me. "Blair, we will come back!"
I watched the car disappear at the village entrance, knowing deep down they wouldn't just let this go.
James Lincoln came over and patted my head: "Blair, don't be afraid, Dad is here."
Linda Clark held my hand, tears falling onto the back of it: "It's all my fault — I was powerless and couldn't protect you."
I shook my head and squeezed their hands tightly: "Mom, it's not your fault. They are just too cruel."
That night, I couldn't fall asleep.
I sat on the bed, thinking about my past life.
I was taken from the orphanage by James Lincoln and Linda Clark; having no children, they treated me like a precious treasure.
When I was little, I longed for candied hawthorn, and James Lincoln would walk three miles to town just to buy it; in winter, when my feet were cold, Linda Clark would warm them in her arms.
The villagers all cared for me—Madam Warren would always slip boiled eggs into my hands, and Mr. Leo would patiently help me with my homework.
But what about Morgan Scott and Mary Lewis?
They gave birth to me, yet abandoned me.
For eighteen years, they never sought me out. Only when Yolanda Scott needed a heart did they remember I existed.
They treated me as nothing more than an organ donor, and regarded the Lincoln family as their enemies.
In this life, I will make them pay the price.
Early the next morning, I went to the town police station.
I found Officer Lee and told him about what happened in my past life—of course, I didn't mention my reincarnation, only that I heard Morgan Scott and Mary Lewis planning to harvest my heart for Yolanda Scott.

Officer Lee frowned, clearly skeptical: "Young lady, are you sure you're not mistaken? How could biological parents do something like that?"
"I'm not mistaken." I took a tiny, button-sized device from my pocket. "This is a miniature surveillance camera I bought. If they come after me again, I'll bring it and record everything they say."
Officer Lee glanced at the surveillance camera, then looked at me and nodded. "Alright, if anything happens, you can call me anytime."
When I returned from the police station, I saw from a distance that a crowd had gathered in front of the Lincoln family's gate.
I quickly ran over and saw Morgan Scott and Mary Lewis had come again, with a girl standing beside them.
The girl wore a white dress, her face pale and fragile—she was Yolanda Scott.
When Yolanda saw me, she hurried over and tried to take my hand. "Sister, I'm Yolanda. Come home with us—Mom and Dad miss you very much."
Her voice was soft, her eyes red, and she looked utterly pitiable.
In my previous life, I was deceived by her act, believing she was a kind sister, and I opened my heart to her completely.
But later I realized she had long known I was her sister, and that Morgan Scott and Mary Lewis wanted my heart.
She watched as I was bitten by the Tibetan Mastiff, watched me die, with no trace of sympathy in her eyes.
I took a step back, avoiding her hand. 'I am not your sister, nor will I go home with you.'
Tears instantly welled up in Yolanda Scott's eyes. She turned to look at Mary Lewis and asked, "Mom, does sister dislike me?"
Mary Lewis quickly embraced her, then turned to me with anger and said, "Blair, Yolanda likes you so much. How could you treat her like this?"
Morgan Scott walked over to James Lincoln and handed him a card. "Mr. Lincoln, there's 500,000 on this card. If you hand Blair over to us, the money is yours."
James Lincoln pushed the card back with a serious expression. "Mr. Scott, Blair is not a commodity. Don't think you can buy me with money."
"Five hundred thousand isn't enough?"
Morgan Scott took out another card. "There's one million on this—enough for you to build several houses in the village."
"Don't go too far!" James Lincoln stood up, pointing at Morgan Scott. "Even if I starved to death, I would never sell my daughter!"
The villagers joined in the jeering, saying Morgan Scott was arrogant and abusive.
Morgan Scott's expression grew darker. He looked at me and said, "Blair, don't shamelessly take advantage of our kindness! If you don't go with us, I will accuse James Lincoln and his wife of child abduction!"
I laughed, took out my phone, and started recording: "Mr. Scott, everything you just said, I recorded it all."
"If you want to sue my parents, I'll give the recording to the police and let them hear how you threaten people."
Morgan Scott didn't expect me to record; he paused for a moment, then snarled, "Just wait!"
After saying that, he left with Mary Lewis and Yolanda Scott.
Watching their car drive away, James Lincoln sighed with relief: "Blair, you were really brave just now."
I shook my head. "Dad, they won't just let this go. We have to be more careful."
Sure enough, on the morning of the third day, the village chief, Mr. Leo, arrived.
He held a phone in his hand, his face grave: "Blair, look at this."
On the phone's screen was a live broadcast; Morgan Scott and Mary Lewis sat on the sofa, Mary's eyes swollen from crying.
"We have been searching for our daughter for eighteen years. After finally finding her, they are refusing to let her go," Mary said to the camera, "They even taught my daughter to lie, saying that we wanted to hurt her. It breaks my heart."
Morgan sighed, "We ask for nothing else but to have our daughter back."
Yolanda Scott sat beside her, wiping away tears now and then: "Sister, I know you didn't mean it; it was them who forced you. Please come back, I'll give you everything—mom and dad are yours."

Comments in the live stream scrolled rapidly, all condemning the Lincoln family.
"This rural couple is far too greedy; they must be after money!"
"Miss Scott is so pitiful. How could her sister be so heartless?"
The village chief turned off his phone angrily and said, "The village received countless calls today, all blaming us."
Linda Clark cried desperately, "What are we going to do now? Blair, it's all my fault; I dragged you into this."
I patted her hand, comforting her, "Mom, don't worry, I have a plan."
I took out my phone and called Officer Lee, then said to James Lincoln and Linda Clark, "Dad, Mom, I'm going to the Scott family."
"What?" James Lincoln and Linda Clark were stunned. "Why are you going to the Scott family? They'll hurt you!"
"If I don't go, they'll keep troubling you." I looked at them firmly. "Don't worry, I have a surveillance camera with me. If they dare do anything to me, I'll hand the evidence over to the police."
James Lincoln still tried to persuade me, but I had already picked up my backpack and said, "Dad, Mom, I'm leaving. Please don't worry."
I called Morgan Scott and told him I was willing to go with them.
Morgan was overjoyed and said he would come to pick me up immediately.
Half an hour later, a car stopped at the gate of the courtyard.
As Mary Lewis got out of the car, she smiled: "Blair, you've finally come to your senses."
I said nothing and got into the car.
As the car drove off, I glanced back once; James Lincoln and Linda Clark stood at the gate, their eyes filled with worry.
I smiled at them and made a 'don't worry' gesture.
In the car, Mary Lewis kept talking to me about the Scott family, telling me how big my room was and how many new clothes they had bought for me.
Yolanda Scott sat beside me, occasionally saying a few words, appearing very gentle.
I didn't say much, just turned on the surveillance camera and hid it inside my collar.
About an hour later, the car stopped in front of a villa.
The villa was enormous, with a fountain in the yard and a garden. Compared to the Lincoln family's humble house, it was like night and day.
But looking at this villa, all I felt was disgust—in my past life, I was locked in a dog cage here and killed by the Tibetan Mastiff.
Mary Lewis led me into the living room. The sofa was genuine leather, the coffee table was made of glass, and a large painting hung on the wall.
"Blair, please have a seat. I'll go pour you a glass of water." Mary Lewis said this and went to the kitchen.
Yolanda Scott sat beside me, looking at me. "Sister, it's so good to have you back. From now on, we are family."
I looked at her and asked, "Yolanda Scott, what illness do you have?"

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