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The Family 12

The Family 12

Chapter 12 The Unlucky Fool Turned Out to Be Me

+8 Pearls

Jean suddenly sneezed in the middle of class.

She rubbed her nose.

Who the hell was talking trash about her?!

“Everyone, I’ve got something to announce”

Lacey stepped up to the podiuin, wearing her usual pleasant smile. Her gaze swept across the classroom. “As you all know, the finals for the Hope Cup are coming up. We’ve been preparing for a long time, but right now…. we’re short on people.”

Lacey was the class arts rep, and the full name of the Hope Cup was-

The Hope Cup National Youth Drama Competition.

It was a major event on the national level. Winning a priz but also a big bonus for college applications,

a prize in the Hope Cup meant not just hefty rewards from the school,

Because of that, nearly every student was eager to join. Tons signed up, hoping to get on stage.

Of course, the competition was brutal. After several intense rounds, most had already been eliminated. But somehow, Lacey had led her class all the way to the finals.

They’d been preparing for their performance for weeks.

“Short on people? Like backstage help: Or do you mean performers?” someone asked right away.

Lacey smiled gently. “We’re short one actor for the stage play.”

That got everyone’s attention. The classroom stirred with excitement.

This was a huge opportunity. If they got lucky and filled that one spot, they’d get to perform in the finals–maybe even snag prize. And that meant sharing in the glory.

Jean yawned.

The Hope Cup! This wasn’t even a major plotline in the book.

What was the point of transmigrating into a novel if the plot kept tossing her into uncharted territory?

“Lacey, you know I’ve got great stage presence. Want me to take the role?”

Someone raised their hand, volunteering right away.

The others weren’t about to sit back and lose the chance. The room turned chaotic

“Wait, that actually sounds fun! I want in too!”

“Larry, pick met I’ll play anything. I won’t hold you back.”

Larry pressed her lips together, clearly trying to hold something back. Then she said seriously, “We need someone to play 

7:40 PM 

Chapter 12 The Unlucky Fool Turned Out to Be Me

After all, she was twenty–nine years old now.

Competitions, stage plays.. those were things she might’ve cared about in a different lifetime.

Wait, can’t you just use a prop tree? Does someone really need to act

xact it on

“Seriously, making someone play a treeThat’s just humiliating.”

“Uh I take back what I said earlier. I hate tre

trees. I’m allergic

“Yeah, same. Lacey, you should find someone else”

student asked

The second everyone realized the “final missing role” was a literal tree, their enthusiasm dried up fast.

Sure, they wanted to win the Hope Cup. But they were still spoiled, prideful teenagers.

Playing a tree? Not happening

Lacey seemed to have expected this reaction,

A cold glint flickered briefly in her eyes.

If it wasn’t a tree, would I even need any of you?

She thought it, but h

her face remained pleasant. “Well, since no one’s volunteering, we’ll draw names.

“What? Is that role even 

even necessary?”

“And if it is, why does it have to be played by a person?”

“I hate drawing lots. This is so stressful!

48 Pearls

The class grumbled loudly, but Lacey held her ground. “I’ve already cleared it with the principal. He’s very invested in the finals. The Hope Cup is tied to the school’s reputation–and ours. The principal made it clear: anyone who gets picked and refuses will lose out on end–of–term awards and recommendations.”

Jean shook her head.

This Lacey really knew how to play dirty at her age.

ping and coercion were in full swing.

The guilt–tripping

Larry pulled a small box from under the desk and shook it before placing it on the table. “I’ll start now.”

“Please don’t let it be me. I’ll never live it down”

“Why even do this by drawing lots? Just assign someone and get it over with.”

picked for this trash role. I’m not doing in “

Amidst the chaos, Lacey pulled out a folded white slip of paper.

veryone held

tarah Even

ed over, curious i

ser who the unlucky fool would!

unfolded ther

mauiskly, then flinuri

slow the name written

7:40 PM 

Chapter 12 The Unlucky Fool Turned Out to Be Me

Jean was speechless..

Oh. Fantastic. The unlucky fool turned out to be me. The clown turned out to be me

Everyone else let out a collective sigh of relief, and a few even started grinning.

It was Jean. Thank god it was Jean!

If anyone had to play tree, the quiet weirdo made perfect sense.

ה

The mood in the classroom instantly lightened..

“Perfect choice. No one fits the role better than Jean.”

Someone even clapped sarcastically.

“Let’s give it up for our brilliant tree!”

Ahem, can’t wait to see your incredible performance, Jean!”

You should be grateful you even get to be in the Hope Cup. Playing a tree is doing you a favor.”

8 Pearls

Jean stared at the little slip of paper in Lacey’s hand.

Sure, it was possible her name got drawn, but the timing seemed way too convenient.

She wasn’t buying it.

Lacey’s dislike for her was obvious.

If Lacey wanted to rig a draw, it would’ve been too easy.

Lacey stood tall, taking in the commotion like she was watching a well–directed play. Then she discreetly crushed the paper with Jean’s name in her palm.

That slip hadn’t come from the box at all. It had been hidden in Lacey’s hand the whole time.

When she reached in all she did was fake shuffle while slipping the name hom her palm to her fingers and pulling it out.

She knew no one would want to play a

y a tree.

Even with the principal’s name backing her up, Lacey had no interest in making enemies out of her well–connected classmates.

Jean was the only soit target

And conveniently, the one she disliked most.

No way was she passing up the chance to humiliate Jean in front of everyone.

at the’d picked her directly, it would’ve been too obvious. This way, it all looked fair.

Jean, from now on, you’ll need to join us for rehearsalsTM

arry smiled sweetly at her, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

once was pleasant, but that smile?

It was sharp enough to cut glass.

The Family

The Family

Score 9.9
Status: Ongoing Type: Native Language: English
The Family

Summary & Review: The Family

Jean Ginger was dead. A self-made woman who achieved financial freedom before thirty, her life was cut short in a tragic car accident. But instead of fading away, Jean woke up in an unfamiliar, overly frilly bedroom surrounded by stuffed toys. Her head throbbed as strange memories began flooding her mind — memories that weren’t hers. Within moments, Jean realized the unbelievable truth: she had transmigrated into the world of a book she once mockingly read online, The Real Heiress Awakens.

The story she remembered was an outrageously dramatic one about a poor girl named Sarah who discovered she was actually the real daughter of a wealthy family, the Gingers of Blairford. In her first life, Sarah had suffered greatly — betrayed, humiliated, and married to the wrong man. But after being reborn, she vowed to take back everything that had been stolen from her. She returned to the Gingers, exposed the impostor who had been living her life, and won over her powerful birth family and their love. Not only that, she even stole back her impostor’s fiancé — the male lead of the story.

It was a total wish-fulfillment fantasy: revenge, romance, and the triumphant rise of the “real” heiress. But for Jean, it was a nightmare — because she had been reborn as the fake heiress who loses everything by the end of the novel. Even worse, this character’s name was also Jean Ginger.

Still dazed, Jean checked herself in the mirror and nearly screamed. She wasn’t just the doomed heiress — she was thirteen years old. Her tall, elegant body was gone, replaced with short, chubby limbs and a round, childish face. On the bright side, she was years away from the events that would destroy her life. The real heiress hadn’t shown up yet.

Just as she was processing her situation, her phone pinged. It was a bank notification — $70,000 had just been deposited into her account. Jean blinked, counting the zeros again and again to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. Seventy thousand dollars. For a monthly allowance.

Her pain, confusion, and panic melted away in an instant. In her past life, she had worked herself to exhaustion for every dollar. Now she was rich — effortlessly. She didn’t have to hustle, fight, or struggle. The only thing she had to do was exist.

“Fake heiress?” she thought with a shrug. “Fine. I’ll take it.”

Jean quickly decided she wasn’t going to challenge the real heroine or get involved in any melodramatic family battles. She knew how the story would end — the Ginger family would fall into chaos, her brothers would lose their minds, and Sarah would rise as the hero who brought them down. There was no point trying to change fate. Instead, Jean made up her mind: she would relax, play the role of a harmless background character, and enjoy her wealthy lifestyle until the plot killed off the Gingers. By that time, she’d be long gone — comfortably rich, maybe even checked into a luxury psychiatric ward if that’s what it took to survive.

But peace never lasts.

Outside her room, she heard a maid calling her name, saying that dinner was ready but she hadn’t responded. Then another voice answered — calm, deep, and commanding. It belonged to Dominic Ginger, the eldest brother of the Ginger family. The moment he entered, Jean instinctively grabbed a plush bunny and held it to her chest like a shield.

Dominic was everything his reputation promised — tall, cold, and intimidating, with sharp features that could have been carved from marble. He was dressed in a sleek, tailored suit that looked more appropriate for a business meeting than a family dinner.

Jean’s eyes darted up at him. Even though she was technically his little sister now, he looked like a completely different species. She knew from the novel that Dominic was the strict, emotionless type — a perfectionist who treated family like subordinates. He was one of the five Ginger brothers who would later become antagonists in the story, each powerful and broken in their own way.

Still, Jean decided to play innocent. She widened her eyes, her pigtails bouncing, her cheeks pink, and clutched her bunny tighter. She looked like a lost doll — the perfect image of a fragile, harmless child.

Dominic’s icy voice broke the silence. “Dinner. Now.”

Jean blinked. He talks? she thought, startled. In the original story, Dominic barely spoke unless necessary. Her inner monologue continued, mocking his stiffness — but before she could stop herself, something strange happened.

Dominic’s gaze sharpened, and he responded quietly, as if answering an invisible question. “I just got back from work.”

Jean froze. She hadn’t said anything out loud. That meant — he could hear her thoughts.

Panic hit her like a truck. She quickly forced a nervous laugh and said aloud, “Oh, okay…” trying to cover her shock. But inside, her mind was spinning. What kind of weird twist was this? Was Dominic telepathic now? This wasn’t in the book!

Dominic, meanwhile, looked just as confused. His jaw tightened as he studied the small girl in front of him. He was sure he’d heard her voice in his head — clear, childish, and slightly sarcastic — but her lips hadn’t moved. It made no sense.

The tension between them filled the air. Jean tried to smile sweetly, pretending to be the clueless little sister, while her inner voice screamed at herself to stay calm. She couldn’t afford to let her thoughts run wild if her cold, powerful brother could actually hear them.

Still, beneath the fear, another thought flickered in her mind — maybe this was her chance. If Dominic could hear her thoughts, maybe she could use it to her advantage. After all, she knew the future of every character in this story. And she wasn’t going to end up in a psych ward this time.

Not if she played her cards right.

For now, though, Jean did what any smart person would do when facing a dangerously perceptive older brother who might read minds: she smiled, hugged her bunny tighter, and quietly followed him to dinner — already scheming about how to survive in this ridiculous new world where fiction had become her reality.

Because if there was one thing Jean Ginger was good at, it was surviving — and making money while doing it.

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