And then she was gone, the faint rustle of her dress fading down the corridor.
Selene stared at the door long after it closed.
Guests.
She remembered those dinners vividly. They hadn't happened until months after Anne's arrival, not days. Also, they sure as hell did not happen after her visit to Damien.
Something was pushing events forward, faster, and sharper. And no amount of recollection could keep up with it.
By the time the clock struck seven, she was ready. She descended the staircase in a pale blue gown, with her composure flawless. The dining room was already lit, with golden light spilling across the long table.
Richard sat at the head, smiling when he saw her. "Ah, there she is. My pride."
Anne sat beside him, hands folded, and her eyes downcast. She was the perfect picture of humility.
Across from them sat three men — all faces Selene recognized from her past. Businessmen. Allies. And one in particular, Lord Heston, whose company would one day merge with theirs — but not yet.
Selene greeted each of them gracefully, taking her seat opposite Anne.
Dinner began in a haze of polite conversation. Richard spoke warmly of his daughters — both of them. Anne blushed at every compliment. Selene smiled through every falsehood.
And yet, through the laughter and clinking glasses, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was watching a scene she'd already lived, but rewritten. This was faster, and wrong.
Halfway through dinner, Anne leaned forward slightly. "Father," she said, her tone soft. "May I tell them about the charity you've decided to sponsor?"
Selene froze.
That wasn't supposed to happen until next month. Didn't Anne just move in? Why does she know so much?
Richard looked momentarily surprised, then chuckled. "You have a sharp memory, my dear. Yes, of course."
Anne turned to the guests, speaking with perfect poise. "Father will be establishing a new scholarship for orphans, particularly girls without guardians. It's something very close to his heart."
Richard smiled at her proudly. "She reminded me, actually," he said. "The idea had slipped my mind."
Selene's stomach twisted.
Anne wasn't just adapting to the timeline. She was advancing it.
Every decision, and every event that once took months or years was now unfolding within days. Anne was playing the game ahead of her, and rewriting what should have been.
When dinner ended, Selene excused herself early. She walked the quiet hallways alone, her reflection trailing in the polished floors.
As she neared her room, she heard voices.
Richard's voice sounded low, and fondly.
Anne's laughter was soft, and melodic following his voice.
They were in his study. She didn't need to listen closely to know the sound of affection in his tone.
Her chest ached, though she told herself it was only a surprise.
She turned away, retreating into her room.
The sunflowers still sat on her vanity. She reached for one, plucking it by the stem, and stared at it until her eyes blurred.
In her mind, memories flickered like broken film reels, and fragments of what once was. Anne arrived years later, not now. Richard hesitates before adopting her. The scholarship, the dinners, the laughter, and all were in their proper order.
Now, everything has changed.
And for the first time, Selene felt something far more dangerous than fear. She felt doubtful of everything.
No matter what, memories don't move. Timelines don't change. Unless something, or someone, was making them.
The wind brushed through her window, carrying the faint scent of lilies. She closed her eyes and whispered to herself, so softly that even the silence could barely hold it.
"This isn't how it happened."
Selene's whisper lingered in the stillness, faint and brittle, swallowed almost immediately by the dark.
But then, a sound came.
It came from the far side of the room. It was like papers brushing against the wood of her vanity.
Her head lifted.
The window curtains swayed gently, though the night outside was utterly still.
She rose slowly. Every movement she took afterwards was cautious, and measured. Her bare feet touched the cool marble as she crossed the room.
The sunflower she'd plucked earlier now lay on the floor. Its petals scattered in uneven trails. She crouched, gathering them one by one. Her pulse beat too loudly in her ears.
And that was when she saw it.
On her vanity mirror, there was a smear.
No, not a smear. A word.
It was written faintly across the glass, in something that looked like dust, or ash.
"Again." it wrote.
Selene froze.
Her reflection stared back at her, wide-eyed, and disbelieving. Her pulse quickened as the meaning clawed at her mind.
Again.
It wasn't the first time?
Her lips parted, but before any sound escaped, a soft knock came from her door.
"Miss Selene?" Clara's voice.
Selene turned sharply. "What is it?"
The door opened slightly. The maid's face appeared in the dim candlelight, pale and uncertain. "I… I was just checking on you. Lady Anne said you were unwell."
Selene's eyes flicked toward the mirror, but the word was gone. It was wiped clean.
Her throat tightened. "Tell Lady Anne," she said, her voice steady though it trembled underneath, "that I'm perfectly fine."
Clara nodded and withdrew, closing the door behind her.
Silence settled once more, heavy and absolute.
Selene turned back to the mirror, running her fingers across the glass. It was smooth again. As if it had never been there.
But she knew what she saw. The letters still burned behind her eyelids.
Again.
Her pulse thudded in her ears.
She lifted her gaze once more, meeting her reflection. For a heartbeat, it looked back, perfectly identical. And then…
It smiled.
Just slightly.
Selene staggered backward, her breath catching in her throat.
Her reflection had smiled, but she hadn't.
The candles flickered violently, and the air in the room thickening with the scent of burning wax.
And then, just as quickly, everything stilled again.
Her reflection matched her once more. Blank, silent, and normal.
Selene clutched the edge of her vanity, her knuckles pale. A tremor ran through her arms, but she didn't look away.
This wasn't just a replay of her past.
Someone, or something, was making her live it again. Also, why did Anne send a maid to her?