Reborn at Eighteen The Billionaire's Second Chance novel Chapter 102

Reborn at Eighteen: The Billionaire’s Second

Chapter 102

Elara

The single bed in my tiny Bronx room creaked as I lay down. My

roommates were already asleep–Yuki’s soft snores from the next

room, Diego’s quiet breathing from the couch.

Exhaustion finally won. I closed my eyes.

And immediately, I was back in the dream.

Lily wore her pink princess dress. She ran toward me, arms

outstretched, her face bright with joy.

“Mama!”

I caught her. Held her tight. She was so small. So warm. So real.

Tears streamed down my face. “Lily. My baby. I’m so sorry.”

She pulled back. Looked at me with those serious dark eyes–Julian’s

eyes.

“It’s okay, Mama. I know you tried.”

“I should have protected you better. Should have fought harder.”

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“You did your best.” Her small hand touched my cheek. “You couldn’t

fight them all.”

The scene shifted.

Suddenly we were in the foster family’s living room. Lily’s face turned

blue. Her small hands clawed at her throat. She couldn’t breathe.

“Mama… Mama… I can’t… breathe…”

I tried to run to her. Hit an invisible wall. My fists pounded against

nothing. “Lily! LILY!”

The foster mother fumbled with her phone. Too slow. Too late.

Lily collapsed. Her eyes found mine across the room. Filled with fear.

Confusion.

“Why didn’t you save me, Mama? Why didn’t you come?”

I woke with a gasp. My face was wet. My heart hammered against my

ribs.

The Bronx apartment was dark. A police siren wailed in the distance.

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I sat up. Pressed my hands to my face. Tried to breathe.

She’s not here. In this life, Lily was never born. I stopped it. I changed

1. it.

But the guilt didn’t fade.

The image of her small body on that floor. Her scared eyes asking why

I didn’t save her.

I hugged my knees to my chest.

In my past life, I’d failed her. Failed to protect her from the system.

From the neglect that killed her.

This life, I had to do

better.

I had to protect the people I could save.

Raven.

In my past life, she’d been brilliant. Revolutionary. Her NFT platform

had disrupted the entire art market. And then Sloane had

orchestrated her destruction–framed her for fraud, destroyed her

reputation, drove her into a coma she never woke from.

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I couldn’t let that happen again.

I wiped my face. Looked at my phone. 3:27 AM.

I couldn’t save Lily. But I can save Raven.

I got out of bed.

The kitchen was tiny. Just a two–burner electric stove and a mini-

fridge. I worked quietly, trying not to wake anyone.

Scrambled eggs. Steamed broccoli. Shredded carrots. White rice.

Simple. But made with care.

I’d done this before. In my past life, I’d made lunch boxes for Lily.

Carefully arranged the food, added little notes with smiley faces.

You’re such a good mama, Lily had said once, her mouth full of rice.

I try, baby.

Now I made two lunch boxes. One for me. One for Raven.

It wasn’t the same. Nothing would ever be the same.

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But maybe I could use this second chance to show someone else that

they mattered. That someone cared.

I pulled out a small piece of paper. Drew a simple smiley face. Wrote

in careful letters:

“Your art will change the world. – E”

I folded it. Tucked it into Raven’s lunch box.

St. Valerius Academy’s art building was already buzzing when I

arrived. Students clustered around their projects, debating technique

and concept.

Raven was at her workstation. Purple hair in a messy bun.

Headphones on. Eyes bloodshot–she’d clearly been up

all night.

I walked over. Tapped her shoulder.

She pulled off one headphone. Looked at me with suspicion. “What?”

I held up the lunch boxes. “I made lunch. Want to eat together?”

She stared at the container. Then at me. “Why?”

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“Because…” I hesitated. “Because I’m guessing you haven’t been

eating properly.”

Her eyes narrowed. But after a long moment, she nodded. “Fine.”

Her voice was quiet. But I heard the acceptance in it.

We took the lunch to the school rooftop. The Manhattan skyline

stretched out before us. Winter sun pale but warm.

I opened my box. Raven opened hers.

She saw the note. Went very still.

Her fingers trembled as she unfolded it. Read it. Read it again.

“No one’s made me a lunch box since…” Her voice cracked. “Since my

grandmother.”

She looked away. Wiped her eyes quickly.

I said softly, “She must have loved you very much.”

Raven nodded. Picked up her chopsticks. Took a bite of the scrambled

eggs.

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