Chapter 1

The last thing I remembered was the sharp crack.

My head hit the polished wood floor.

Then, darkness.

A cold, endless void.

I gasped, bolting upright.

Sunlight streamed through the window, dust motes dancing.

My old room.

The floral wallpaper I' d always hated.

My college textbooks still on the shelf.

This wasn' t right. This was... years ago.

My hand flew to my head.

No blood. No pain.

I scrambled out of bed, legs shaky.

My reflection stared back from the dresser mirror.

Younger.

No lines of stress around my eyes.

No haunted look. Not yet.

My heart hammered against my ribs.

The fall. Jessica' s face, contorted with rage.

Her scream, "It's all your fault!"

The shove.

I died. I knew I died.

A calendar hung by my desk.

June 14th.

The day Jessica first bragged to me.

Bragged about Jake, her sleazy boyfriend.

Bragged about her plan to trap a rich husband.

The day everything started to unravel in that first, horrible life.

I sank onto the edge of the bed, the room spinning.

This was impossible.

A dream?

But the memory of the impact, the cold spreading through me, it was too real.

This was a second chance.

A chance to make them pay.

Jessica. And my mother, Brenda, who always let her get away with murder.

Literally, this time.

A wave of nausea hit me, but it wasn't sickness.

It was cold, hard fury.

The shock was wearing off, replaced by a chilling clarity.

I knew what was coming.

I knew all their dirty little secrets.

And this time, I wouldn' t be the victim.

The door creaked open.

Jessica stood there, a smirk already playing on her lips.

She was wearing a short robe, her blonde hair artfully tousled.

"You're finally awake, sleepyhead."

Her voice, sickly sweet, grated on my ears.

The same voice that had screamed curses at me before she pushed me down the stairs.

"Guess what?" she said, bouncing into the room.

She flopped onto my bed, propping herself up on her elbows.

"Jake is just so amazing. We had the wildest night."

Her eyes gleamed with a mixture of pride and recklessness.

This was it. The conversation that, last time, had filled me with dread and a desperate need to warn her.

Warn her about her health, about her reputation.

Warn her away from the path that led to my fiancé, Ethan, and ultimately, my death.

Last time, I' d pleaded with her.

"Jessica, be careful. Men will talk. And what about your health?"

She' d laughed in my face.

"Oh, Sarah, you' re so old-fashioned. I know what I' m doing. I' m going to land someone rich, you' ll see. And I' ll be a perfect, pure bride."

Then she' d twisted my concern, telling Mother I was jealous.

Mother, of course, believed her.

This time, a different script would play.

I forced a small, neutral smile.

"Oh really?" I kept my voice light.

Inside, ice was forming around my heart.