Mira's POV
I can't stop shaking.
My hands grip the edge of my bed so hard my fingers turn white. The phone lies next to me, Vivian's message still glowing on the screen. "Ready for tonight? We're meeting our future husbands!"
This isn't real. It can't be real.
But I pinch my arm hard enough to leave a red mark, and the pain shoots through me sharp and clear. I'm awake. This is happening.
I stumble to the mirror and stare at the girl looking back at me. Twenty-five years old. My face is younger, smoother. No lines around my eyes from five years of crying myself to sleep. My hair is longer, thicker. I'm wearing my best pajamas—the ones I threw away three years ago because Ethan said they made me look childish.
Ethan.
His name in my mind makes my stomach twist. In a few hours, I'm meant to meet him for the first time. I'm supposed to fall in love with his smile and his jokes and his charm. I'm supposed to choose him over Adrian and spend five years drowning in lies.
I'm going to die.
"No," I whisper to my image. "Not this time."
My phone buzzes again. Another text from Vivian: "Mom says wear something nice. The Blackwells are RICH. This is our chance!"
Our chance. That's what Vivian always called it. Our chance to marry into money. Our chance to save our family from debt. Our chance to matter.
She never said it was our chance to be happy.
I sit on my bed and force myself to think clearly. My brain feels like it's splitting in two—half of me is twenty-five and excited about tonight, and half of me is thirty and knows exactly how tonight breaks everything.
I remember the gala like it happened yesterday. The sparkly dress Vivian made me wear. The way Ethan smiled at me across the room. The moment Adrian barely looked my way because he was too busy on his phone. I remember thinking Adrian seemed cold and mean, while Ethan seemed perfect.
I was so stupid.
But I'm not stupid anymore. I died in freezing water, killed by my own sister, and somehow I got sent back. I don't know how. I don't know why. But I'm not going to waste this gift asking questions.
I'm going to use it.
My laptop sits on my desk, exactly where I left it five years ago. I open it with shaky fingers and check my bank account. The numbers make my breath catch.
Eight million dollars.
My grandmother's money. The secret gift nobody knew about except me. In my first life, I spent every penny of this on Ethan. I made fake investor companies and sent him the money little by little, watching him take credit for success I bought him. I made him rich while he made me unhappy.
This time, this money stays mine.
I open a new tab and start searching. Margaret Zhao—the woman who will become my guide, but only if I'm smart enough to find her now instead of three years from now. Technology investments. Start-up companies. Everything I learned by chance the first time, I'm going to learn on purpose now.
Hours pass. My eyes hurt from looking at the screen, but I can't stop. Every minute I spend preparing is a minute I'm not losing like I did before.
Another buzz. Vivian again: "I'm picking you up at 6. Don't be late!"
I check the time. It's already four o'clock. In two hours, everything changes.
My hands start shaking again. Can I really do this? Can I walk into that party and choose differently? What if I mess it up? What if dying and coming back was just a dream, and I'm actually crazy?
What if I choose Adrian and he's just as bad as Ethan was?
No. I shake my head hard. Adrian isn't bad. I know that now. In my first life, I watched from far away as he built his company into something amazing. I watched him work constantly while Vivian claimed he was never home. I thought she had it worse than me because her husband ignored her.
I didn't know Adrian wasn't ignoring her. He was taking care of his sick mother in secret.
I didn't know a lot of things.
But now I do.
I take a shower and let the hot water wash away my fear. I can do this. I have to do this. When I step out, I feel better.
I pick a different dress from my closet. Not the sparkly one Vivian wanted me to wear. Something simpler. Something that feels like me, not like someone trying too hard to impress people.
My phone rings. Vivian's calling now.
"Finally!" she says when I answer. "I've been texting you all day. Are you excited?"
"Yes," I lie.
"I already know which brother I want," Vivian says, and I can hear the smile in her voice. "Adrian. The older one. He's the CEO, Mira. Do you know how amazing that is?"
My throat tightens. In my first life, this is where I said, "That's great! I like Ethan better anyway."
But now I know the truth. Vivian doesn't want Adrian because she loves him. She wants him because he's strong. Because being Mrs. Adrian Blackwell sounds better than being Mrs. Ethan Blackwell.
And when Ethan started looking more successful—because of my secret money—Vivian got jealous enough to kill.
"Actually," I hear myself say, "I think I like Adrian too."
Silence on the other end. Then Vivian laughs, but it doesn't sound happy. "You're joking."
"No."
"Mira, you can't. I just said—"
"I know what you said." My voice is steady now. Strong. "But I like him. I'm going to try to talk to him tonight."
"You—" Vivian sputters. "That's not fair! I called him first!"
"He's not a toy, Vivian. You can't 'call' him."
"This is ridiculous. You don't even know what you want. You never do." Her voice turns sharp, mean. "Fine. Whatever. Try for Adrian. But when he ignores you all night because he's boring and cold, don't come crying to me."
She hangs up.
I stare at my phone, my heart racing. I just made my sister angry. In my first life, I never made Vivian angry. I always let her have what she wanted. I always made myself smaller so she could feel bigger.
And she still killed me.
My phone buzzes with a new text, but this time it's not from Vivian.
It's from a number I don't recognize: "Hello, Mira. We need to talk before the party tonight. It's about your grandmother's money. Meet me at Coffee Bay at 5 PM. Come alone. This is urgent."
My blood turns to ice.
Nobody knows about my grandmother's money. Nobody.
So who sent this text?
And how did they find me?