Chapter 2: Rebirth Roulette—Neighbors Again

A blinding white light! Then the sound of chaos all around, and babies crying nearby and far away. I felt small, weightless, like I was floating in a snow globe that had just been shaken up.

“She’s born—a girl. Vitals are normal.”

“He’s born—a boy over here. Vitals are normal.”

I’d been reborn. A newborn baby girl, cradled in a nurse’s arms. Everything felt huge and unfamiliar—the lights, the voices, the cold air on my skin. I’d never felt so small.

Just then, the blue curtain beside me was pulled back. Another nurse came out, holding a newborn baby. The moment we met each other’s eyes, both of us stared wide-eyed. There was this weird jolt of recognition, like running into someone from your old job at a new company.

Then, the baby across from me burst out crying. In my head: “Boss! I’m sorry, I swear I didn’t do it on purpose this time either.” One second he was saying never to meet again, and the next, here we were, in the same delivery room. No wonder he was upset. I got it. Some things, you just can’t escape.

My mother was still weak. She held me in her arms, gently touching my lips, nose, and eyes, her gaze full of affection. It was obvious she adored me. I felt a warmth I hadn’t known in a long time—a kind of safety that made me want to close my eyes and stay there forever.

But my boss’s mother was a little different. When she heard she’d had a boy, she burst out crying, dragged her weak body over to my mom’s bed, and tearfully suggested maybe they could swap babies—she wanted a daughter too. My mom immediately told her off, telling her to stay away from me—she didn’t want a boy either. Not that she was thrilled about it. Comic timing, right?

Turns out, they knew each other and were best friends, and both preferred girls over boys. My boss got the short end of the stick. I glanced over at him, left forgotten in the corner. I couldn’t see his expression, but I could see the utter despair in his tiny eyes. Poor guy—he’d barely landed in this world, and he was already losing at the parent lottery.

And just like that, my unlucky boss and I, both carrying memories from our past lives, were reborn. This life, my name is Laurel Sutton. My mom hopes I’ll be healthy and happy—peaceful and joyful. She whispered it in my ear every night, like a wish she was sending out to the universe.

The boss is called Mason Linwood. No special meaning, just a name his mom picked at random. It sounded strong, like someone who’d end up running a company—or fighting his way through life, one stubborn step at a time.

Both our moms are flight attendants—fair-skinned, beautiful women. My mom is Julia Sutton; the boss’s mom is Diane Linwood. They’ve been best friends for five years and were coworkers before. My mom married a pilot from the same airline, and Aunt Diane married her college sweetheart. But both their husbands were always busy with work and rarely home. To keep from stressing out during pregnancy, they decided to plan and have kids together. After six months of effort, both got pregnant within a month of each other.

Originally, my mom’s due date was before Aunt Diane’s, but Diane ended up going into labor early, so they both ended up in the delivery room at the same time. Fate really is wild.

Sometimes I think the universe is just a bored kid, shaking up the snow globe to see what happens.

My boss carried his resentment from his past life, and I carried my guilt. Both of us got dropped into two new lives, starting over together. Our families were neighbors. Our moms would often carry us to each other’s houses, mooching food and drinks. After they’d eaten their fill, they’d binge Netflix, play games, and drool over movie stars with six-pack abs.

The boss and I would be left off to the side, staring at each other. It was obvious the boss didn’t want anything to do with me. He always hid in the corner, head down, picking at his hands and feet, ignoring me. But eventually, he realized there was no escape. Tough luck, buddy. Like it or not, I was going to be a major part of his childhood—he just had to accept it. Sometimes I caught him sneaking glances at me, like he was trying to figure out if I was going to ruin his life all over again.

My mom doted on me, buying me pretty princess dresses and dolls, decorating my room like a dream. She’d take me out in a cute stroller, showing me off to everyone, bragging about how smart and adorable I was. Pretty soon, I was famous in our neighborhood. Old ladies at the park would pinch my cheeks and tell my mom she had the cutest kid on the block.

The most thoughtful thing Aunt Diane ever got him was a few Lego sets my mom talked her into buying. The boss was happy for days. It wasn’t about money—his family was loaded. His dad was the CEO of a publicly traded company. She just didn’t want to put in the effort for her own son. Sometimes, she was even nicer to me than to him.

I once tried giving him my beloved stroller and doll to play with, but he just threw them on the ground in disgust, tripped himself, and lay there for ages before getting up. Just like in our last life, when I sent him a PowerPoint he didn’t like—he looked ready to smash the keyboard over my head, but managed to hold back and just told me to get out. Some things never change, even when you’re three feet tall and drooling.

After our fourth birthdays, both of us were sent off to preschool. The boss was finally free from Aunt Diane’s grip and started bossing me around all over again. He’d lift his chin arrogantly, curl his finger, and say, “You, go find Emily for me.”

Emily was his fiancée from his last life. I hadn’t forgotten my promise to make it up to him this time around. Whatever he said, I did. I used every resource I had to try to contact Emily. I called her number, but it was disconnected. Tried to add her on Instagram, but her account didn’t exist. I used every social app I could, but nothing worked. The only option left was to go back to the city where she used to live and look for her in person. But I was only four—couldn’t go anywhere without a grownup!

I reported my progress to the boss. He scowled, his brows furrowed, and said, “Don’t dump your problems on me. Figure it out yourself!” So I kept racking my brain for another way.

Then I remembered there was a police station near our preschool. “Boss! How about we ask the police for help?” He flicked his eyes at me. “You think that’ll work?” “Worth a shot! You never know—better than nothing.” He looked at me skeptically but didn’t say no, so that was a yes.

We snuck out and ran to the police station. “Officer, we want to find someone. Can you help us?” The policeman smiled kindly. “Who are you looking for, kids?” “Emily Lin, his aunt.” I pointed at the boss, who shot me a dirty look. “We have her contact info and address, but can’t reach her. Can you help us?”

“Where are your parents?” “Uh… they’re busy at home.” “How about you go back to school for now? Tomorrow, I’ll talk to your parents and help you look, okay?” “No, no need, Officer. We’re just looking for her ourselves, you don’t need to talk to our parents.”

“Sorry, kids, but I have to check with the adults first. I’ll take you back to preschool now, okay?” “How’d you know we’re from preschool?” Only then did I notice the school badge on the boss’s chest—and mine too. Kind of hard to miss.

“Officer, never mind, thanks!” I thanked him quickly, then grabbed the boss to leave. But the officer insisted on escorting us back to school. And that’s how we rode in a police cruiser for the first time, delivered right back to class. Our teacher had nearly lost her mind looking for us, and had already called my mom and Aunt Diane—they were on their way.

First attempt at outside help: failed. Got chewed out for it, too. The boss’s trust in me tanked—he ignored me for two days. He didn’t really fit in at school. There was a chubby kid in our class who bullied him and made fun of his name.

“Mason Linwood? Hahaha! Who’d give their kid that name? Even a dog would cringe!” I’d warned the kid before, but he just got worse. The boss stood there, fists clenched, face turning green, itching to fight back. I grabbed his hand. “Boss, let me handle this. No need for you to get involved.”

Then I charged over and slapped the chubby kid across the face. He burst into tears and tattled to the teacher. I got scolded and my parents were called in. The teacher forced me to apologize.

“Laurel Sutton, you were in the wrong today. You need to apologize to Daniel Foster.” I stubbornly turned away. “Not unless he apologizes to Mason Linwood first.” Neither of us would back down, so the teacher made me stand in the corner.

My mom and Aunt Diane rushed in. Seeing me punished, my mom fussed over me and tried to defend me. “Laurel’s always been a good kid. She’d never hit anyone for no reason—this boy must’ve provoked her.” I nodded furiously and told her, “He started it by making fun of Mason.”

Aunt Diane, hearing it was about the boss, didn’t hesitate—she smacked him on the back of the head. “Mason, did you cause trouble again? Got Laurel in trouble too?”

—

I quickly waved my hands to explain. “No, Auntie! Daniel started it, and Mason’s the victim.” Only then did Aunt Diane let it go. The boss sat there, cheeks puffed out, looking murderous. He ignored me for another two days. But it was fine. I knew he’d talk to me again on the third day.

After preschool, we started elementary school together. All that time, I kept trying to find his girlfriend, but she seemed to have vanished into thin air. Once he started elementary school, the boss was super popular—girls were always confessing to him. He’d toss a stack of love letters onto my desk without even looking down.

“Deal with these. Tell her to stop bothering me.” “Got it, boss!” I flipped through them. The handwriting and envelopes were all from the same girl. I opened one at random:

“Dear Mason! The moment I saw you, I fell in love. I love your lips, your brows, your eyes, and your smile…”

What the heck! Even us ‘90s kids didn’t write love letters like this—can’t believe a Gen Alpha did. “So you want me to just reject her?” I asked, nosy as ever. He shot me a look. “What else?”

So I wrote back: “Dear Olivia Baker, thank you for loving me at first sight. Thank you for liking my lips, my brows, my eyes, and my smile. But…” I handed it to her myself and apologized several times. She threw the letter in the trash, crying as she ran away.

But someone fished it out and posted it on the school bulletin board. After that, everyone who saw the letter would chant, “Thanks for liking my lips, my brows, my eyes…” whenever they saw the boss. He got laughed at for a week straight. He was convinced I’d done it for revenge. I was totally innocent.