Where Petals of Vengeance Bloom

My name is Amara Foster.

My mother is a renowned scientist, and my father is a powerhouse in the business world.

They are, without a doubt, the most devoted couple I've ever known. Their love for each other is obvious in everything they do.

Growing up in a family like this, it was inevitable that I'd be cherished from the moment I was born.

It wasn't just my parents and great-grandmother who doted on me. My grandparents and uncle all treated me like I was the most precious thing in the world.

But as much as they showered me with love, they were also strict when it came to my upbringing.

Once I started preschool, our teachers encouraged us to be kind, to work together, to be friendly, and to learn how to share.

When I repeated my teacher's words to my mother, she looked at me seriously and said, "Sweetheart, your teacher isn't wrong, but you need to remember: if someone treats you badly or tries to bully you, you must never just put up with it. You don't have to be kind to people who hurt you. If someone bullies you, you fight back-hard."

"And if there's something you really like and you don't want to share, you have every right to keep it for yourself."

Half-understanding, I asked, "Mom, if I do that, does that mean I'm not a good

kid?"

She would always stroke my hair gently and answer, "The most important thing is to protect yourself first. Only after that comes being a good person."

"Sweetheart, remember your father and I work so hard and climb so high in the world so that no one can bully us, and so we can protect you from being bullied. We'll always have your back. We don't go looking for trouble, but we're never afraid to stand up for ourselves. Do you understand?"

At the time, I didn't fully grasp everything she meant, but I trusted my mom completely. If she said it, it must be right.

Because I believed in her advice, whenever I faced problems, I never let myself feel inferior or discouraged. At school, nobody dared to mess with me.

Maybe that's partly my personality, but I know it also has a lot to do with my family's status.

Still, I've never used that as an excuse to push others around.noveldrama

Preschool was a pretty happy time for me I enjoyed every day.

But lately, I kept seeing a strange man.

He looked about my dad's age: tall, handsome, and, oddly enough, he shared some of my mother's features.

He would appear near my school, and I'd

pickee him during drop-off a

him

Almost every time, I'd catch

watching me. Contents

About two weeks went by like this, Then, one day, my driver was late picking me up. All the other kids had already gone home, and I was the only one left.

That's when the strange man finally came up to me.

His eyes were filled with warmth and affection; he didn't look like a bad person at

all.

"Amara," he said gently, calling me by name.

I looked up at him, puzzled. "Sir, do you know me?"

"I'm your uncle," he replied.

"My uncle?" I frowned, confusion written all over my face. "You're lying. You're not my uncle."

The moment I said that, he looked hurt but tried to explain, "I really am your uncle, Amara. Why don't I take you home?"

As he spoke, he reached out as if to pick me up.

But I didn't know him at all, so there was no way I was letting him near me.

My parents had always warned me never to go anywhere with strangers.

I darted behind my teacher,

clutching her leg tightly. "Teacher don't know him! He must be a kidnapper-please call the police and get him arrested!"

Ethan froze at my words, rooted to the spot.

It wasn't until his mother passed away that he finally remembered everything that

had happened in his previous life.