Max now Zara spent the rest of the afternoon in silence.
She didn't cry. Didn't scream. Just… watched.
Every detail of the Larsson mansion was quietly processed exits, camera placements, the servants' movements. Even in a 5 year old body, her training never faded.
The memory flood had clarified everything.
Nicole Finn the real Larsson heir, raised in an orphanage, hit by the Larssons' car, discovered to be their true daughter via a blood match and a DNA test.
Zara Larsson the "fake" daughter.The jealous one. The villainess. Sentenced to prison in the novel's ending.
Nicole wins everything the family, the friends, the fiancé.
Zara loses everything and burns trying to fight it.
Max couldn't believe she ever read such trash.
She stared at the Barbie doll in her hand. "This is the dumbest setup I've ever seen."
But dumb didn't mean unimportant.
Someone or something had thrown her into this story for a reason.
The original Zara made emotional, reckless decisions.
Max wouldn't.
She didn't care about the Larsson name. She didn't need their love or approval. But now that she had a body and a clean slate she wasn't planning to go down in flames like some jealous idiot.
She'd learn the rules. Control the board.
Beat the protagonist at her own game or walk away from it with everything.
That night, Max sat quietly in a pink princess bed as a nanny tucked her in.
"Sweet dreams, little Zara," the woman whispered with a gentle smile.
Max didn't answer. She stared up at the ceiling.
"This body is small. Weak."
"But I've survived worse."
Tomorrow, she'd start planning.
No more missions from Obsidian.
No guns. No knives.
But in this world?
She could still be dangerous.