She knew exactly why, in so many of these tragic stories, the original souls failed to clean house. It wasn't just a lack of strong backing; it was because their hearts couldn't handle destroying their own blood. A desperate, biological craving for a parent's approval usually anchored them to their abusers.
But Heena was a transmigrator. Even though she resided in Seera's body and felt the lingering echoes of the girl's emotions, Heena herself was completely detached. Perhaps it was because, in her original life, Heena had never lacked love. She had been a cherished child, so she possessed an unbreakable core of self-worth. She didn't need a single drop of validation from this wretched, fake mother. Tearing her down felt as natural as breathing.
Setting her teacup down, Heena slowly walked over to the far wall. Hanging in the center was a beautifully framed portrait of Seera, painted when she was sixteen years old.
