Blurb：
After a tragic accident on the Golden Gate Bridge, a young woman dies with bitterness toward her abusive mother—only to wake up as **Principal Margaret Redwood** in 1995. To her shock, she discovers her own mother, **Charlotte Bloom**, is an eighth-grade student suffering from severe domestic violence at the hands of her father. Now, as the principal of Pine Valley Middle School, she has the power to change the past—and heal the future. Can she protect young Charlotte, confront the cycle of abuse, and rewrite their destiny? Dive into this emotional time-travel drama where redemption begins with a second chance.
Content：
My final exams were a disaster.
Pure anxiety blanked my mind.
Mom shredded my test papers like confetti and threw the pieces in my face.
Her voice was ice. Why don’t you just go die?
On our way home, a car run into us.
Then came the screech of tires, the sickening crunch of metal.
The force hurled me over the railing of Golden Gate Bridge.
I’m dying, Mom.
Happy now?
But the next second, a blur figure plunged after me.
Her hand stretched out desperately, fingers clawing the air, trying to grab mine.
In the dim, I thought I saw tears on her face.
Mom, I don’t understand you.
You criticize everything I do.
Yet, at the edge of death, you tried to save me?
Splash!
Splash!
Two enormous plumes of water erupted in the bay below.
Agony exploded through me, a blackness deeper than the ocean swallowing me whole.
Is this death?
Good.
Mom, you always said you gave me life, so I must be obedient to you.
Well, I’m giving my life back.
I don’t owe you obedience anymore.
Goodbye, Mom.
No if there’s a next life, let’s just skip it, okay?
Never again, Mom.
My eyes snapped open.
Blinding white light on the ceiling, forcing tears.
Heaven?
A voice shouted, “Principal Redwood’s awake! Someone, quick! Principal Redwood’s awake!”
Principal Redwood?
Who’s Principal Redwood?
A nurse bustled over, expertly checking my pupils, listening to my heart.
The moment her hand touched my skin.
Memories, alien yet vivid, poured into my mind.
This body belonged to Margaret Redwood. She’d been among the first university students after the Afghanistan War.
After graduation, Margaret chose to return to her hometown to teach.
Over a decade later, she was now the principal of Pine Valley Middle School.
And the year was 1995!
December 26th, 1995. Margaret discovered a girl in her eighth-grade class covered in bruises from severe beatings.
The girl, sobbing, confessed her father beat her whenever he got drunk.
Margaret decided on a home visit.
On the way to the girl’s house, Margaret’s bicycle skidded on an icy slope.
As it flipped, she shoved the student uphill with all her strength.
The branch under her own feet snapped.
Margaret plunged down the cliff with her bike.
“Principal, you’re awake! Thank God I was so scared something terrible happened. I’d never forgive myself.” A girl leaned on my bedside, weeping uncontrollably.
The original owner’s memories and thoughts kept flooding my consciousness.
I spoke automatically, “Charlotte Bloom, don’t cry you”
Charlotte Bloom?!
Wasn’t that my mother’s name?
I whipped my head around.
The face was young, terrified, cheeks red from the cold. But the eyes, the shape of the brows it was a face I knew intimately.
It was unmistakably my mother’s face, thirty years younger.
I squeezed my eyes shut.
What the hell is happening?
I’ve traveled back in time and become my own mother’s middle school principal?
And my mother endured repeated domestic violence throughout her middle school years?
Charlotte was still crying.
“Principal, I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t have come for the home visit. It’s all my fault. I’m a jinx. I’m sorry”
A storm of emotions churned inside me.
I reached out to wipe her tears.
She flinched violently.
I understood. “Charlotte, I won’t hit you. I just want to dry your tears.”
Charlotte scrubbed her face roughly with her sleeve. “Principal, I’m just glad you’re awake. My dad’s waiting outside. I have to go home now.”
She walked out, closing the hospital room door softly.
The next instant, angry shouting erupted.
“I told you you’re a jinx! A useless piece of shit! Always causing trouble! If only I’d had a son, none of this crap would happen! Get on your knees!”
I heard Charlotte’s muffled plea.
“Dad, please not here. Can we talk at home?”
“You know how much that medicine cost? A hundred and two bucks! Other kids bring money home from school, you cost me money! Kneel! You hear me? I said kneel!”
Someone tried to intervene. “Mr. Bloom, this is a hospital. Keep it down.”
He only got louder.
“Who the hell are you to tell me how to discipline my kid?! This is my business! whether it’s a hospital or the damn police station! Charlotte, you refusing? Think you’re grown ass girl now? I’ll beat the rebellion out of you right now”
I threw off the blankets and pushed the door open.
My grandfather, Robert C a man I’d never met C was brandishing a tree branch, chasing my fifteen-year-old mother around the hallway.
Nurses and teachers tried to intervene.
A ring of patients’ families watched, fascinated.
The scene was pure chaos, the noise threatening to split my skull up.
I grabbed a chair and slammed it down hard on the floor.
CRACK!
Robert lowered the branch, slowly turning to face me.
A flicker of instinctive fear shot through me, but then I remembered: I’m Margaret Redwood now!
Margaret Redwood.
Female.
45 years old.
From New York.
Tough as nails. Sharp as a tack.
“Mr. Bloom, I presume? You paid the hundred and two dollars?”
I turned to Ms. Cathy, a young teacher. “I got hurt on a school-related home visit. That’s a work injury. Why is the parent paying?”
Cathy looked ashamed. “It happened so fast. I didn’t have the money on me I asked the parent to cover it temporarily.”
“There’s money in the locked cabinet in my office. Go get it now. Pay him back.” I handed Ms. Cathy my keys.
Robert’s expression softened immediately.
His public tantrum?
Rooted in fury over spending money! he didn’t want to spend a dime.
Beating Charlotte in public? A calculated show for the principal and teachers.
Once Robert got his money back, he became polite.
“Thank you, Principal. It’s all this stupid girl’s fault. Made you come to visit us, got you hurt. I’ll deal with her properly when we get home!”
He punctuated with a heavy slap across Charlotte’s back.
A solid thwack.
Charlotte clenched her jaw, eyes swimming.
Robert didn’t care.
“Told you she’s a Jinx. Born hard, killed her mother giving birth. Everyone knew she was bad luck. Nobody wanted her. Ended up stuck with her. Raised her all these years! Don’t I deserve some credit? All she does is cry cry cry, like I’m torturing her!”
He spewed this venom, jiggling his leg.
Disgusting!
He turned to Charlotte.
She flinched again.
“What’re you staring at? Damn it, I gave you your life! You owe me everything! I owe you nothing! Got it?!”
The words hit like a blow.
Familiar…
When my grades slipped.
When I accidentally broke a dish.
When I’d just showered and hadn’t washed my clothes yet.
Any tiny thing could spark the same abuse from my mother.
Identical curses, spanning thirty years, spat from Robert to Charlotte’s mouth onto me.
She called me useless.
A jinx.
She asked why I didn’t die, then slapped me harder when I said, “Maybe I will.”
Back then, I thought my mother was insane.
Now I knew.
She wasn’t born that way.
“Enough!”
I roared.
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