Rebirth — Daisy Taylor

She looked up. Matthew Cho stood in the doorway of the art room, a box of charcoal sticks in his hands. In her first life, she'd barely noticed him. He was quiet, intense, the kind of boy who sketched during lunch and never raised his hand. They'd shared exactly one conversation before graduation, and she'd been too preoccupied with Tommy's latest mood to remember it.

But every hero’s journey has a dark night of the soul. daisy taylor rebirth

It wasn't a perfect solution. The guilt still gnawed at her. The whispers of her extended family— what kind of daughter abandons her sick mother? —still stung. But she'd learned something in the void between lives. Perfection was a cage. Love without self-preservation was just a slower kind of death. She looked up