Reborn, She's Back for Revenge novel Chapter 36

Night draped over Lovett Manor like black velvet. A sleek sedan pulled up the driveway–unusually early for once, the clock barely striking nine–thirty.

Vincent stepped out first, rolling his stiff shoulders. Between the Lovett Group’s make–or–break acquisition and Karen’s new med–spa launch, they’d both been burning the midnight oil for weeks. Tonight, he’d finally carved out time to check on the kids.

Through the living room window, the scene looked almost picturesque: three heads bent over homework at the coffee table. Edith’s damp hair was pulled into a loose, messy bun, her once rough, farm–girl features softened into smooth, velvet–like skin since her return.

Zachary sprawled on the floor like a disheveled alley cat, spinning his pen between fingers–but every time Edith’s cool gaze flicked his way, he froze mid–fidget. Little Joseph hunched in the corner, tongue peeking out in concentration as he practiced cursive with monastic focus.

Vincent’s chest tightened. For a moment, he could almost hear Melinda’s laughter floating through the years, back when homework hour sounded more like recess.

Karen’s manicured hand alighted on his sleeve. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“Just… remembering,” Vincent murmured.

Her smile was all polished hostess charm. “Edith’s been back awhile now. We should throw a welcome gala–the biggest Sunspire ballroom, the whole social register. Show the city our prodigal princess is back.”

Vincent nodded slowly. After the recent school incidents, he’d started questioning Karen’s motives. But this? This extravagant olive branch… Maybe he’d misread her after all.

Inside, Zachary’s voice cracked like a gunshot. “Edith, you’re doing this on purpose!” The literature book hit the rug with a thud.

Edith didn’t flinch. “Am I? You misspelled three characters in the poem. Every single Engloria word is wrong. The math set? Also wrong. Start over.”

Zachary’s knuckles went white around his pen. He’d already ground through an hour of homework–an hour more than he’d managed all semester. “Make me.”

From the sofa, Joseph swung his legs like a metronome. “Rules are rules, bro. No finish, no sleep.” He reached for his console hidden under a couch cushion.

“Little hypocrite was gaming five minutes ago,” Zachary snarled.

Joseph’s grin collapsed. “Zach, you narc! Edith, I swear I was studying the whole-”

A well–aimed kick sent the hidden console skittering across hardwood, coming to rest at Edith’s slippered feet.

Silence dropped like a curtain. Edith’s face stayed unreadable. “Homework first, remember?”

Joseph’s lower lip trembled. He hadn’t expected his brother to sell him out. He blinked up at her, all puppy–dog eyes. “If I memorize ten more vocab words, can I take a break?”

When Edith reached out, he flinched–only for her fingers to ruffle his hair with startling gentleness. “Good boy.” That softness in her face, the slight curve of her lips-

Zachary’s anger stumbled. For one heart–stopping second, Edith looked exactly like their mother. He shook his head, disoriented.

The warmth vanished as quickly as it had come. Edith arched a brow, her voice cool and detached. “So you’re really not doing the assignment?”

Zachary scoffed. “Nope. Not a single sentence. What’re you gonna do about–ahhh!”

A yelp echoed through the living room as Edith flipped him cleanly over her shoulder. He hit the plush rug with a thud that rattled his bones. Rolling onto his back, he clutched his tailbone, glaring. “I hate you, Edith–this isn’t over-”

“You’ll have to try harder than that.” She dusted off her hands. “Final warning. Homework?”

Edith bent down, hooked her arms under his, and hoisted him overhead. Her muscles strained, but she held him steady. Six feet in the air, Zachary suddenly became very aware of gravity.

Joseph, wide–eyed, quietly rolled the rug aside, revealing the unforgiving marble floor beneath. One slip, and his brother would be in a full–body cast.

“Okay, okay!” Zachary yelped. “I’ll do it. Just put me down.”

Edith lowered him gently. Violence wasn’t her first choice, but it got results. Minutes later, all three siblings sat cross–legged on the floor, pencils scratching in reluctant unison.

Vincent stood frozen in the doorway. At six–two and gym–fit, he was no lightweight–but even he couldn’t bench–press Zachary like that. “When has my daughter gotten so strong?‘

Karen let out a quiet sigh. “Maybe sending Edith away was a mistake. Six years on the farm… she doesn’t act like a Lovett heiress anymore.”

Vincent shook his head. “No. It saved her.”

After Melinda’s death six years ago, the boys had turned on Edith, blaming her. She’d spiraled–locked in her room, barely eating, her once–bright eyes hollow. She’d tried to end it all twice. The small town had been their last resort–fresh air, distance, time.

And it had worked. She was back–steady, focused, the girl he remembered. The tightness in Vincent’s chest eased as he stepped into the

room.

Edith’s worksheet was already done. Now she leaned over Zachary’s shoulder, scowling at his Engloria textbook. His grasp of the language was, frankly, catastrophic. He knew the alphabet and little else. To survive quizzes, he scribbled Caldunese approximations under every word–desperate, nonsensical lifelines.

Watching the disaster unfold, Edith pinched the bridge of her nose. At this rate, high school entrance exams might as well be a moon landing.

Vincent cleared his throat. Edith snapped the book shut and exhaled. “Hey, Dad. You’re home.”

He nodded. “Edith, we’re throwing a welcome–back party for you at the end of the month. How does that sound?”

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