Seraphina stood before the mirror long after dawn had broken, watching her reflection with a steadiness that surprised even her. The woman staring back at her was calm, too calm for someone who had died once already. There was no panic in her eyes, no hesitation. Only resolve, cold and unyielding, layered beneath a carefully constructed serenity.
This was the day.
In her previous life, this had been just another forgettable morning. A day she had smiled through, laughed through, trusted through. A day she had survived without incident, and yet one that had quietly nudged her closer to death.
This time, she would not let it pass unnoticed.
She dressed with intention, choosing a soft neutral gown that made her look harmless, approachable. Innocent. The kind of woman people underestimated easily. The kind they spoke freely around. She pinned her hair loosely, allowing a few strands to frame her face, and practiced her smile, gentle, warm, unthreatening.
Perfect.
Inside, however, her mind was already several steps ahead.
She knew what was coming today. She knew who would speak to her, what they would say, how they would say it, and most importantly, what they wouldn't say. She remembered the conversation clearly now. The casual suggestion. The harmless favor. The decision she had made without thinking.
The decision that had started everything.
In her past life, she had agreed without question.
This time, she would agree again.
But on her terms.
At breakfast, the house buzzed with its usual quiet rhythm. Plates clinked softly. Sunlight spilled across the table. Her parents spoke about schedules and errands, blissfully unaware that their daughter was standing at the edge of a battlefield.
Seraphina listened, nodded, smiled when expected. She played her role flawlessly.
When the phone rang, her heart did not race. She knew who it was before the maid even announced it.
"Miss Elise is on the line."
Of course she was.
Seraphina accepted the phone calmly, her fingers steady. "Good morning, Elise."
"Seraphina! I was hoping you'd be free today," Elise said, her voice light, friendly, perfectly rehearsed. "There's something I wanted to talk to you about. Something important."
Seraphina leaned back in her chair, eyes drifting toward the window as if distracted. In truth, she was listening to every inflection, every pause. Exactly as she remembered.
"I'm free," she replied easily. "What is it?"
There it was, the hook.
Elise hesitated, just briefly. "I need a small favor. Nothing serious. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important."
In her past life, Seraphina had felt flattered. Trusted. Chosen.
Now, she felt only clarity.
"Of course," she said, smiling softly. "Anything."
Elise relaxed instantly, tension melting from her voice. Seraphina could almost see it, the way her shoulders would drop, the way her lips would curve in quiet satisfaction.
The trap had been baited.
They agreed to meet later that afternoon. After the call ended, Seraphina set the phone down gently, her smile fading the moment she was alone.
So this was it.
The first step.
She closed her eyes briefly, memories aligning perfectly with the present. This favor, this small request, had been the first thread pulled in a tapestry of betrayal. It had put her in Lucien's path more directly. Had made her visible. Useful.
Disposable.
Her fingers curled slowly into a fist.
Not this time.
When she left the house, she took a different route than she used to. A small change. Insignificant on the surface. Crucial underneath. She paid attention to who watched, who looked away too quickly, who lingered just a second longer than necessary.
She was being observed.
Good.
At the café where she was meant to meet Elise, Seraphina arrived early. She chose a table with a clear view of the entrance and the street beyond. She ordered tea she didn't drink, letting it cool as she waited.
When Elise arrived, breathless and smiling, Seraphina noted everything.
The way her eyes flicked briefly to the corners of the room.
The way her smile sharpened when she spotted Seraphina alone.
The way relief flashed across her face before she masked it.
"Sorry I'm late," Elise said, sitting down. "You know how things are."
"I understand," Seraphina replied smoothly.
They talked first, about nothing. About everything harmless. Seraphina let Elise grow comfortable, let her guard down, just as she had once done with her.
Then Elise leaned forward.
"There's a document I need you to deliver for me," she said casually. "Just a formality. I'd do it myself, but I'm tied up all day."
Seraphina's pulse remained steady.
In her past life, she had taken the envelope without question.
This time, she tilted her head slightly. "What kind of document?"
Elise blinked. Just once.
"Nothing sensitive," she said quickly. Too quickly. "You don't even need to open it."
Seraphina smiled.
"Oh, I won't," she said gently. "But I'll make sure it gets exactly where it needs to go."
The words sounded innocent.
They weren't.
When Elise left, satisfied and unsuspecting, Seraphina remained seated, staring down at the envelope resting on the table between her hands.
This was it.
The first piece on the board.
She didn't open the envelope, not yet. Instead, she slipped it into her bag and stood, her posture straight, her steps unhurried.
This time, she would not be a pawn.
This time, she would decide how the game unfolded.
As she walked out into the sunlight, one thought anchored itself firmly in her mind, unshakable and absolute:
I know how this ends. And I refuse to die again.
Somewhere in the city, threads were already shifting, plans adjusting, expectations forming around the version of Seraphina that no longer existed.
And when the consequences came, they would find her ready.
Watching.
Waiting.
Playing the long game.