The Marks of Time

Chapter One

I woke up, reborn ten years after my death.

My first instinct was to go to school to find my son.

But before I even reached the school, I spotted him—

My son, Jake Miller, was in a brawl at the school gates.

His beat-up bicycle was in pieces.

His clothes had at least six holes in them.

I was furious. I was about to confront him.

Then I saw a post from the housekeeper’s daughter, Chloe Davis, on her Instagram:

“Birthday tomorrow! Come on over, eat and party!”

Nine pictures showcasing every angle of the lavish house I’d left for my son.

I scoffed and called my ex-wife, Susan, vowing never to remarry. She answered immediately.

“Susan, is this how you’re keeping your promise to take care of our son?”

Silence.

Then, Susan’s voice, strained and confused:

“You have the wrong number. I don’t have a son. My husband passed away, leaving me with only a daughter.”

I froze.

Just as I was about to explode, the call ended.

When I died, Susan had dramatically claimed she’d kill herself if I left her.

But ten years later, not only had she allowed others to bully my son,

she didn’t even acknowledge his existence?

As I reached for my phone again, I heard another fight.

“Say one more thing about Chloe!”

Jake was single-handedly beating up several guys, clearly enraged.

The group looked at each other, mocking him:

“You, a broke bum, a garbage picker, trying to protect your goddess?”

“Chloe’s thirsty; she’s been messing around outside of school. Are you feeling sorry for her?”

Jake was completely infuriated. His fists were bleeding, but he kept fighting.

The guy who’d started the taunting was knocked to the ground. The rest then jumped him.

My head spun. Before I knew it, I charged in like a bull.

Before Jake even realized what was happening, I’d taken them all down.

“Who are you? What’s your relationship to this kid?”

“Mind your own business!”

They were bluffing, but I knew they were scared.

I had been a Taekwondo black belt. Taking down a few guys was no problem, especially since I was back in my 18-year-old body, full of energy.

“Remember this,”

I clapped Jake on the shoulder. “He’s under my protection.”

“If you want to mess with him again, think twice.”

I flexed my fists. They scattered.

Jake looked at me with gratitude, but like a lone wolf, he limped away.

“Son, don’t go!”

I called after him.

He stopped, frowning.

“Are you even polite?”

“Because you helped me, I won’t hold it against you, but stop following me.”

I examined Jake. His clothes were bleached and torn, and he looked impoverished.

Remembering the bullies’ taunts, I felt a pang of sadness. I asked:

“Why did they say you pick up trash? Where’s your mom?”

“It’s none of your business.”

Susan’s curt response made me suspect there was more to the story.

For days, I shadowed Jake.

I thought he might go home to Susan, but he was skipping school, working odd jobs or picking through trash.

He slept in a rundown apartment at night.

“Stop following me. Go home. Don’t you have a family?”

I smiled. “I’m your dad.”

Jake was stunned. He turned, furious.

“Don’t think just because you saved me…if you keep talking like that, I’ll…”

The poor kid didn’t believe me. Of course not. A dad who died ten years ago, suddenly back, and looking eighteen again? No one would believe that.

While he collected scrap, I bought two sodas, handing him one.

I tried to subtly get information. “You seem like you should be rich, so how did you end up picking trash? Don’t your parents care?”

“My dad’s dead.”

Jake sat, hugging his knees, his voice desolate.

“As for my mom…she’s forgotten all about me.”

I looked up sharply.

“What do you mean? Why would she forget?”

At first, I assumed Jake was living like this because he’d had a fight with Susan and run away.

Teenagers in their late teens are rebellious.

I’d been worse at his age.

But from Jake’s words, there was something more.

“My mom was in a car accident six years ago. She doesn’t remember anything—not my dad, not me.”

“I was at summer camp. When I got home, she had a baby girl and no memory of me.”

Shock washed over me. This was so unbelievable, it felt like a soap opera.

Six years ago?

My eyes burned as I looked at Jake. My son had been living on the streets for six years!

“Come with me.”

I couldn’t sit still. I grabbed Jake’s arm and headed toward Susan’s mansion.

I had to ask Susan if she had any conscience left.

Even if she’d lost her memory, even if she’d had a child with another man, I wouldn’t have expected her to remain a widow. But she had promised to care for my son.

And now, this was his life.

“What are you doing?”

Jake looked at me strangely.

I sneered. “If I’m not mistaken, Susan’s daughter is Chloe Davis, right?”

Jake stared, his pupils widening.

“How do you know my mom’s name? And Chloe…”

Of course, I knew. Chloe was the housekeeper’s daughter, Jake’s age, born in the same hospital, just a couple of hours apart.

I had even helped name Chloe.

I thought back to Chloe’s Instagram post. Her birthday party at the mansion.

But that mansion was meant for Jake.

“I told you, I’m your dad.” I explained simply. “I don’t know how I’m reborn, but I am your dad, David Miller.”

“Son, I’m back. I won’t let anyone bully you. Let’s get you justice!”

Jake reluctantly pulled away. “I can’t.”

“I promised Mrs. Davis and Chloe. Chloe doesn’t have a mom, and she’s seriously ill. She just wants to feel loved.”

“I promised not to tell my mom or reveal anything, just to let Chloe have a happy ending.”

I was stunned. Jake knew everything.

“Even so, you shouldn’t be living like this.”

I sighed, searching for a solution.

“I’ve got it. If you don’t want to reveal their secret, move in with me.”

I took Jake to the house next door to the mansion. The interior was identical to Chloe’s Instagram photos.

“Whose house is this?”

“Your grandparents’.”

I paused. My mother had suffered from depression after my death, and my father’s heart condition worsened. Both passed away within three years. The house had been empty since.

Jake stared at me, tears in his eyes. “You really are my dad?”

I patted his head. “Of course, son. I wouldn’t lie. I’m here now. No one will bully you again.”

“Go take a shower. I’ll have my assistant buy you some new clothes.”

While they were out, I checked the news from the past ten years.

Susan had built her company into an empire, becoming one of the richest women in the city.

The latest headline: Susan Miller throws a birthday charity gala for her daughter.

“Son, it’s your birthday. I have a surprise for you.”

The next morning, I personally picked out a suit for Jake, driving to the gala.

Jake stopped when he saw Chloe.

“Mom, why are we here?”

I smiled. “You said Mrs. Davis and Chloe were good to you, right?”

“Since they’re so kind, I should thank them and give Chloe a birthday present.”

Jake, naive, believed me.

Chloe, elegantly dressed in a designer gown, looked like a princess.

I watched her from the car, smirking.

Overnight, I’d learned everything.

Chloe was manipulating my son. She wasn’t sick.

I’d had my assistant check the hospital records and her illness.

The response:

“Mr. Miller, we found no medical records for a Chloe Davis with that illness. She fabricated it.”

My assistant sent me more information.

Chloe wasn’t sick; she was promiscuous. Before moving into my son’s mansion, she had been with numerous older, wealthy men. She was notorious.

She’d convinced the amnesiac Susan that she was her daughter while my son was at camp. Her mother helped fabricate evidence, convincing Susan she only had one daughter.

I was furious, then my assistant added:

“Mr. Miller, Jake’s been impoverished because Chloe scammed him out of his allowance.”

“She’d pretend to be sad and say she was short on money and needed a mother’s love, manipulating him to help her.”

“Jake liked her for a while, so even when he suffered, he helped her.”

I remembered Jake’s fight. It was for Chloe.

I was speechless. “Is my son a hopeless romantic?”

My assistant nodded. “Seems like it.”

I’d had my assistant secretly collect DNA samples from Susan and Jake for a paternity test.

I was expecting a show.

Many important people attended the gala.

I sat in a corner waiting for my assistant, sipping my drink, when a commotion started.

A Rolls-Royce pulled up.

Gasps echoed. “Oh my god, that’s Susan Miller, the city’s richest woman!”

“She’s over forty, but looks like she’s in her thirties! I wonder what her secret is…”

I watched Susan get out of the car.

Seeing her face, my eyes welled up.

Chloe, radiating confidence, approached Susan.

“Mom, it’s my birthday, but I want to thank you for giving me life.”

“This is my gift for you.”

She unveiled a scroll. A priceless, antique painting.

The crowd gasped.

“Oh my god, is that an original by Mr. Xu? She’s amazing, so generous!”

“She’s beautiful and so filial! I wonder who’s lucky enough to marry her.”

I smirked.

The moment she opened the scroll, I recognized it. It was an antique painting from my son’s collection.

From the mansion’s study.

Chloe had stolen it and was trying to show off.

Chloe, basking in the attention, clung to Susan.

I set down my drink, walking to the center of the room.

“Ms. Davis, I also have a birthday present for you.”

Chloe turned, frowning.

“You?”

We’d met earlier. She’d scoffed at my suit, deeming me a poor nobody.

Chloe didn’t realize the gravity of the situation. She approached me, whispering:

“With your cheap clothes, I wouldn’t even look at your gift.”

But the gift wasn’t for her.

I clapped my hands.

My assistant entered with doctors.

Chloe’s face paled. “What…what does this mean?”

“To treat your illness, of course.”

I raised an eyebrow. The onlookers whispered.

“Is this guy crazy?”

“Bringing doctors to a birthday party? It’s a curse!”

“Right? Ms. Davis looks healthy. How could she be sick?”

I played a recording. Chloe begging my son.

My assistant had hacked into the mansion’s security system to get it.

Her voice was tearful. “Jake, please, I’ve never had a mother. I need motherly love.”

“I’m seriously ill. I don’t know how long I have. I know you like me, can you grant me this wish?”

“I’m not greedy. When I…I’ll give you back your mother.”

Chloe’s face turned ashen.

I smiled. “Ms. Davis, do you like this gift?”

I revealed the truth, speaking to the cameras.

“Lies last only so long, even you believed them.”

“Chloe Davis, enjoying your pampered life, have you forgotten you’re a housekeeper’s daughter?”

Whispers filled the room.

“Who is she? Does she know something?”

“She’s a liar! She’s accusing Ms. Davis, the daughter of a billionaire. How dare she?”

“But the recording…it sounds like Ms. Davis!”

Chloe panicked. She glared at me, regaining her composure, ordering her bodyguards.

“Get this troublemaker out of here!”

She forced a smile. “Don’t believe him! The recording’s fake!”

“When my mom gets here, you’ll see.”

“No matter what, I’m my mother’s only daughter!”

Susan arrived.

She shielded Chloe, concerned.

“What’s happening?”

Chloe clung to her. “Mom, a man is causing trouble. He says I’m not your daughter. He’s spreading rumors.”

“You’ve gotten rid of everyone who disrespected me, right?”

“He dared to bully me in front of you, Mom. Punish him…”

Susan’s eyes narrowed.

“Of course. Anyone who bullies my daughter will regret it.”

“I promised your father I’d take care of you…”

Chloe triumphantly looked at me.

It was a look that screamed, ‘You’re finished.’

“Chloe, where’s the person who bullied you?”

Chloe pointed. “Mom, it’s him. He used a fake recording to say I’m not your daughter and brought doctors to curse me.”

“Arrest him!”

Susan ordered. The bodyguards surrounded me.

People whispered that I’d angered the city’s wealthiest woman. I was doomed.

I calmly looked at Susan.

“You swore to me that you’d take care of our son. You forgot?”

Susan froze.

“Who…who are you? You look familiar…”

She clutched her head, clearly amnesiac.

But it didn’t matter. I would clear my son’s name.

I showed Susan the evidence.

“I’m not lying. Chloe is the housekeeper’s daughter. Susan only has one biological son, Jake Miller.”

“These are hospital records, and Chloe’s fabricated documents. She exploited your amnesia.”

“If you don’t believe me, go to the mansion, study, second shelf, there’s a photo album that will tell you the truth.”

Chloe and her mother were shocked.

“Mom, what photo album?”

Chloe’s mother shook her head. “I don’t know. I’ve never seen it.”

The album contained photos of Jake and us, taken quarterly. I planned to continue this tradition until we were old. No one knew about it.

But Susan would understand.

“Mom, don’t believe him. We know what’s in our house. There’s no such album.”

Susan told her assistant, “Get it.”

Minutes later, the assistant returned.

“Ms. Miller, the gentleman was right. The photo album has pictures of you, your husband, and your son. There’s no daughter.”

Susan was distraught, grabbing the album.

I showed her the DNA results.

“If you still don’t believe me, here’s a paternity test of you and Jake. One look and you’ll know.”