Chapter 4 Secrets

Setting aside my thoughts, I decided to enjoy the silent ride even though it seems impossible with the man sitting in the driver's seat.

Wait...how did he know my address, he never asked me. "How did you know my address?" I asked, forgetting he was my boss.

"I'm your boss!" He said curtly, stating the obvious.

I narrowed my eyes at him, not satisfied with that answer. Yes, he was my boss, but that didn’t explain everything.

"You never asked for it" I pointed out, crossing my arms. "And I never gave it to you" I continued.

Mark didn’t even flinch. His hands remained steady on the wheel, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. "I didn’t need to."

That was not reassuring.

"So you’ve been looking into me?" I pressed, my voice laced with suspicion.

He let out a short breath, almost like a sigh. "I look into all my employees"

I scoffed, still forgetting I was talking to my boss "Right. And do you also memorize all of their addresses?"

"...."

He ignored my question, I sighed as I decided to let it go. He's still the same...maybe, curt with little to no words.

The rest of the ride continued in silence, but my mind refused to settle.

Mark had always been a man of few words, but this was different. Before, his silence had felt detached, like he simply didn’t care enough to speak. But now? Now, it felt intentional, calculated.

As if he knew more than he was letting on.

I glanced at him again, watching the way his fingers tapped lightly against the steering wheel, his expression unreadable.

Maybe I was overthinking things. Maybe I was just paranoid because of everything that had happened...or hadn’t happened yet, in this second chance at life.

*Sigh*

I just need a good night rest, my head hurts from overthinking too much. I'm happy I was given this second chance, I could re-write my story, with my memories intact.

It was like a free pass, like I won the lottery. It's not everyday you see someone being sent to the past after dying. I felt good even with my almost half memory.

As the car pulled up in front of my apartment, I let out a slow breath. This was it, the real starting point of my second chance.

Mark didn't say anything as he put the car in park, just glanced at the building before shifting his gaze back to me. "Get some rest" he said, his tone firm but not unkind.

I nodded as I mumbled a low "thank you" before grabbing my bag and stepping out of the car. The cool night air wrapped around me, making me shiver just a little. I turned back, expecting him to drive off, but he stayed parked, watching me.

A strange feeling settled in my chest.

He had changed. And yet, in some ways, he hadn’t.

But I didn’t have time to dwell on it. I had a second chance at life, and I wasn’t going to waste it. I walked inside without looking back, turning my back to the man I once called my husband.

Looking around the apartment complex, I smiled softly, it's be four years since I last came here. It's nice to be here once again, my little space that I called home.

I stopped at my door after climbing the stairs to the second floor. Pushing my door open, I saw the small space that was kept neat and tidy.

It was exactly as I remembered, simple, cozy, untouched by time. As if the universe had paused this small corner of my past, waiting for me to return.

I dropped my bag by the door and let out a deep breath, finally feeling like I could relax. The weight of everything, the accident, Mark, the unanswered questions, my blurred memory, pressed heavily on my shoulders, but for now, I just wanted to enjoy this moment.

I walked over to the couch, running my fingers over the familiar fabric. It felt unreal, four years ago, this had been my safe haven. A place where I could escape from the emptiness of my marriage, from the cold reality of my life.

But now…now I was back with knowledge I wasn’t supposed to have.

I sat down, leaning back as I stared at the ceiling.

Tomorrow, I’d start figuring things out. I’d find out who killed us. I’d make sure things didn’t end the way they did before.

But tonight…I just needed to breathe.

Taking a much needed shower, I sighed in relief, my body relaxing as I towel dry my hair. My mind cleared from anything, any thought that would spoil my mind, or so I thought.

*Sigh*

Dressed in my most comfortable pajamas, I made my way to the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water. The silence of my apartment was comforting, no chaos, no tension, just me and the quiet hum of the fridge.

I leaned against the counter, sipping my water slowly.

Despite everything, a part of me was excited. This was my chance to change things, to take control of my life in a way I hadn’t before. I wasn’t just going to sit back and let history repeat itself.

Setting the glass down, I walked over to my bed, sitting on it, I picked up the small mirror that was lying on my bedside table.

Staring into my contact lensless eyes through the mirror, I felt a headache, knowing what my eyes holds, my heterochromatic eye.

The blue pupil in my left eye in contrast with the hazel brown ones in my right.

My mom had always been strict with me wearing contact lens since I was barely five, she always told me that I wouldn't belong, I wouldn't make any friends if they saw my eyes.

I believed her then but now, I knew the real reason she always wanted me to always wear them.

She was hiding me, or rather, she was hiding what I was.

My fingers traced the edge of the mirror, memories surfacing like fragments of a broken dream. My mother’s sharp gaze, her cold warnings, the way she would inspect my face every morning to make sure the lenses were in place.

Back then, I had thought she was just being overprotective. That she was worried about how people would treat me.

But now…now, I wasn’t so sure.

My heterochromia was rare, but it wasn’t unheard of. And yet, my mother had treated it like a dangerous secret, which it was.

And if there was one thing I had learned in my past life, it was that secrets always had a price.

I set the mirror down, my heartbeat steady but my thoughts anything but that. I know what she was hiding, her dark past and her crime.

I know it was connected to my death in some way. If I could just get my complete memory, I would be sure of my guesses.

My mother disappeared without a trace when I turned into an adult, I tried my best to look for her but to know avail. I was left alone.

Alone…and vulnerable.

It was no coincidence that my life had spiraled after she vanished. My mother had always been strict, always hovering just enough to keep me in check...but once she was gone, the shadows that hid in the corners of my life had crept in.

And then, I died.