You did not expect that your last day in your small kitchen would be the beginning of a story that you did not think you would live you were carefully arranging baked goods when your oven exploded, a loud sound, and the fire engulfed the place everything was so fast that your awareness of what was happening was delayed until the end.

When you opened your eyes, there was no smoke or fire... but a strange room, decorated with royal furniture, and a new body wearing its clothes you took a deep breath, but a maid's scream brought you out of your daze: "My Lady! The little prince... his condition has worsened!"

You looked at her in shock, and her words began to remind you of a scene you read in your favorite novel. You knew this world, you knew these characters... And now you are in the body of Mrs. Vilora, the evil mother who made her son's life hell.

You got up quickly and said: “Take me to him now!”

The maid looked at you in surprise, reluctant to believe that Mrs velora, so cold and cruel, could seem interested in her son but she led you to a small isolated room you slowly opened the door and found a young boy, no more than twelve years old, lying on a bed with a pale face, trying to stifle a painful cough.

When his innocent eyes met yours, he trembled and said in a cracked voice: Sorry... I won't get sick again, I promise! Please don't be angry...

His words stabbed your heart he was begging to be strong, to avoid the wrath of his mother, who you knew disdained his weakness.

You leaned down next to him, put your hand on his sweaty forehead, and said gently: "Don't apologize...the most important thing right now is your health."

The boy stared at you in amazement this is not his mother's voice, this is not her kindness... But he couldn't help but cling to that moment you felt a small, hesitant hand grab your palm, as if he was afraid you would move away, and he whispered: Mom...you used to get angry when I got sick?