The rain had stopped by the time Elena reached her apartment.
The city was quieter now, as if it too had decided to take a breath.
She dropped her bag on the couch and sank into the cushions, closing her eyes for a moment. The scent of freshly brewed coffee still clung to her clothes — a cruel reminder of the morning.
Adrian's smile.
Maya's voice.
Everything she'd once trusted.
But not this time.
Elena opened her eyes, determination flickering behind them. "If fate gave me another chance," she whispered to herself, "then I'm taking control this time."
She stood and walked to the small desk by the window, pulling out an old notebook. The cover was cracked from years of use. Back then, it had been filled with sketches of building designs and dreams for her architecture career.
Tonight, it would become something else — her plan for survival.
She flipped to a blank page and wrote in neat, steady letters:
Step 1: Protect myself.
Step 2: Build independence.
Step 3: Expose the truth.
She stared at the words for a long moment. They were simple, but behind each one was a storm waiting to unfold.
Her phone vibrated again. She ignored it. It buzzed once more. Finally, with a sigh, she reached for it.
Three missed calls. Two messages. All from Adrian.
"Elena, please call me."
"Did I say something wrong?"
Her fingers hovered over the screen.
She wanted to block him — to erase him completely. But she knew that wasn't how this worked.
If she wanted to truly free herself, she couldn't just run. She had to understand what really happened five years ago. Why he'd betrayed her. Why Maya had turned on her.
She typed back:
"I'm fine. Just tired. Talk tomorrow."
And then she turned off her phone.
The next morning, the world looked strangely brighter. Or maybe she did.
She stood in front of her mirror, buttoning a crisp white shirt, hair falling neatly over her shoulders. Gone was the soft, romantic look she used to keep for Adrian — the pastel dresses, the gentle curls. Today, she looked professional. Grounded.
"Let them wonder what changed," she murmured.
When she arrived at the office, the usual whispers followed her. Colleagues noticed the shift. She walked straighter, smiled less, and wasted no time with small talk.
Even Maya noticed.
"Someone's glowing today," Maya teased as Elena dropped her bag at her desk. "What's the secret? New skincare or… new love?"
Elena smiled faintly. "Neither. Just a new perspective."
Maya laughed lightly. "You sound like one of those self-help books."
"Maybe I finally read one," Elena replied smoothly, turning to her computer.
Maya raised an eyebrow but said nothing more.
Later that morning, the office buzzed with excitement. Word spread that Adrian Cole himself was visiting their division to review a new design proposal.
Elena froze when she heard his name. She remembered that day — how she'd once been nervous and thrilled to present her design to him. He had praised her work publicly and secretly kissed her in the stairwell after the meeting.
That had been the beginning of everything.
Now, the memory felt like a wound she refused to reopen.
When Adrian arrived, the entire team straightened up. His presence commanded attention — the quiet confidence, the tailored suit, the subtle air of control.
He spoke to the team, his voice calm and measured. When his gaze finally landed on Elena, he paused.
"Miss Brooks," he said, his tone softer. "It's good to see you."
Elena met his eyes briefly, her face unreadable. "Mr. Cole."
A flicker of surprise crossed his expression at her formality.
Before, she would have smiled shyly and said Adrian. Now, she looked every bit the professional.
"I've reviewed your team's proposal," he continued. "I'd like you to lead the design revisions."
Her coworkers murmured, impressed. It was a rare honor.
Elena gave a polite nod. "Of course."
When the meeting ended, Adrian lingered near her desk. "Elena, can we talk privately?"
She hesitated, then nodded once. "Five minutes."
They stepped into the conference room. The moment the door closed, the polite mask dropped from his face.
"You've been avoiding me," he said quietly.
"I've been busy," she replied evenly.
"You never used to ignore my calls."
Elena met his gaze steadily. "People change, Adrian. Some faster than others."
He studied her for a long moment. "Something's different about you."
She smiled faintly. "Good. I'd hate to stay predictable."
He took a slow breath. "Elena, if something's wrong, you can tell me. You know I care about you."
Her laugh was soft, almost sad. "You say that like it's a promise that won't break."
He frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing," she said, picking up her folder. "I just have work to do."
Before he could respond, she walked out — leaving him standing there, confusion etched across his face.
That evening, Elena sat at her desk long after everyone else had gone home. The city lights twinkled through the office windows, reflections dancing across the glass.
She opened her notebook again.
Beside Step 3, she added a new line:
Step 4: Find out what really happened that year.
Because deep down, she knew her death hadn't been just a coincidence.
Adrian's sudden betrayal.
Maya's convenient lies.
The accident that didn't feel like an accident.
It was all connected.
And this time, she was going to find out how.
Later that night, she met Ryan — the journalist who occasionally worked with their company — in the building's lobby.
He was friendly, warm-eyed, the kind of man who asked questions because he genuinely wanted to know the answers.
"Elena Brooks," he said, smiling. "Didn't expect to see you here this late."
She smiled politely. "Deadlines."
"Always the hardworking one," he teased. Then his expression softened. "You okay? You look… different."
She hesitated, then shrugged. "Maybe I just stopped pretending everything's fine."
Ryan tilted his head, curious. "That sounds like a story."
"Maybe someday," she said with a small smile. "For now, it's just a draft."
He chuckled. "Fair enough. Coffee sometime?"
She hesitated — not from fear, but from unfamiliarity. It had been so long since someone's words came without an edge.
"Maybe," she said finally. "I'll let you know."
As he left, she found herself smiling — a real one, small but genuine.
When she stepped back into the empty elevator, she looked at her reflection in the mirrored doors.
This was her second chance. Her clean slate. Her moment to take back every piece of herself she had lost.
And she wasn't going to waste it on revenge alone.
Because to truly win, she would have to heal.
As the elevator doors slid open on her floor, she whispered to herself —
"This time, I'll rebuild everything they destroyed… starting with me."
The lights of the city glowed behind her as she walked out into the night, her heart no longer heavy — only fierce, and full of purpose.