Mag-log inI HAVE BEEN GIVEN ANOTHER CHANCE
I didn't let go of Chloe's hand. I couldn't. If I moved, if I spoke, if I looked at her for one more second the way I wanted to, I would shatter. The nurse kept talking. Blood pressure. Possible concussion. Observation overnight. I heard none of it. My eyes stayed locked on the digital clock. August 14, 2023. 9:51 p.m. I blinked hard. The numbers didn't change. Chloe squeezed my fingers. "You're shaking. Does it hurt? Tell me where it hurts." She acted so caring the way she always does, but it was all fake. Ethan stepped closer, voice low and careful. "We were so scared. You just dropped. One second you were walking toward your father's office and the next—" I pulled my hand free. The movement was sharp. Chloe's smile flickered for half a second before she smoothed it back into place. I reached for the side table. My phone was there, screen cracked from the fall. I unlocked it with shaking fingers and opened the calendar. August 14, 2023. I switched to messages. The last thread with Ethan was from this morning—him asking what I wanted for dinner. No mention of shares. No hotel receipts. No forged signatures. I opened the private investigator's chat. Empty. I hadn't hired him yet. Not in this timeline. Three years. I had gone back three years. Chloe watched me the way she always did when she thought I was fragile—head tilted, eyes soft, mouth slightly open like she was ready to cry with me if I needed it. I almost laughed. The sound stayed trapped in my throat. The nurse left. The door clicked shut. Silence pressed in. Ethan sat on the edge of the bed and reached for my wrist. "Talk to me. You're pale. Did the doctor say anything else?" I looked at his hand on my skin. In the vision, that hand had signed the papers that locked me in a hospital room with restraints. That same hand had rested on Chloe's waist while the world clapped for her. I pulled away again. "I need water," I said. Chloe moved first. She poured from the pitcher on the counter and held the cup out like an offering. "Here. Small sips." I took it. My fingers brushed hers. Cold. Steady. Nothing like the trembling concern in her voice. I drank. The water tasted like nothing. Ethan watched me too closely. "You were heading to see your father. Did something happen? Did someone say something to you?" The question was soft. Testing. In the future I had just lived, this was how it started. Small questions. Soft concern. Then isolation. Then the medical records that painted me unstable. I set the cup down. "I don't remember," I said. Chloe's shoulders eased a fraction. "That's normal. The doctor said short-term memory can be fuzzy after a fall like that." She sat on the other side of the bed and brushed hair from my forehead the way she used to when we were younger. The gesture was perfect. Practiced. Exactly the same as every time she had comforted me before. My stomach turned. I wanted to shove her hand away. I wanted to scream the truth into her face until the sweet mask cracked. I wanted to demand the folder of papers I had seen on that desk three years from now. Instead I stayed still. Because nobody in this room knew what I had seen. Not Chloe. Not Ethan. Not the nurse who had called me Miss Laurent with polite distance. Not my father, who still believed both of them. I was the only one carrying the future. That knowledge settled over me like ice. If I spoke now, they would call it confusion. Trauma. Hallucination. They would use it against me later—exactly the way they had in the vision. I could not give them that. Chloe's hand stayed on my hair. "You still trust me, don't you?" The same words. The same soft tone. The same slight tilt of her head. In the future those words had been the last gentle thing she said before the locks clicked on the hospital door. My pulse slammed against my throat. I met her eyes. For one second the urge to break rose so hard I tasted blood. I could tell her everything. I could watch the color drain from her face. I could force Ethan to deny it while the truth sat between us like a loaded gun. I didn't. I smiled the same small, tired smile I had always given her when I was hurt and needed her to be the strong one. "Of course I do," I said. Chloe's eyes shone with relief that looked almost real. She leaned in and pressed a kiss to my forehead. "Rest. I'll stay right here." Ethan stood and checked his phone, already half turned toward the door. "I'll call your father. He should know you're awake." I watched him leave. Chloe settled into the chair beside the bed, pulling a blanket over her legs like she planned to keep vigil all night. The picture of devotion. I turned my face toward the wall and closed my eyes. Inside my chest something cold and precise clicked into place. They didn't know. They thought I was still the girl who trusted them. That was the only advantage I had. I opened my eyes again and stared at the clock one more time. August 14, 2023. 10:03 p.m. Three years of betrayal still waiting to happen. This time I would not wait for it.ETHAN’S HANDSEthan was waiting in my living room when I got home.He stood the moment I opened the door, like he’d been sitting there rehearsing the moment. His shirt was slightly wrinkled. His eyes looked tired in a way that used to make me soften.“I called you four times,” he said.“I saw.”I set my bag down and walked past him toward the kitchen. He followed.“Your father said you left dinner early. Are you feeling sick again?”“No.”He stopped behind me while I poured water. Close enough that I could feel the heat of his body. The same way he used to stand when he wanted something without asking for it yet.“I miss you,” he said quietly.I turned around, glass in hand.He was already looking at me the old way. Soft mouth. Warm eyes. The expression that used to make me believe I was safe with him.“I’ve been giving you space,” he continued. “After the hospital… and the rumors. But I don’t want space anymore.”He stepped closer.His hand lifted and brushed a strand of hair behind
THE SMILE THAT CUTSMy father looked tired.He sat at the head of the long dining table, tie loosened, the same way he always did after a long board meeting. Chloe sat to his right, perfect posture, soft voice, the picture of a caring daughter. I sat to his left.Exactly where I was supposed to be.“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” my father said, cutting into his steak. “Chloe told me you’ve been resting.”Chloe smiled at me across the table. “I made sure she didn’t overdo it. She’s still pale.”I smiled back.The same smile I had given her for years. Warm. Grateful. A little weak.Inside, I was already cutting the first string.Earlier that afternoon I had sat in my lawyer’s office and signed the final papers. The small subsidiary Chloe had planned to use as her first quiet foothold — the logistics company she and Ethan were going to “help” me manage — was no longer under family control. I had moved it into a private entity that only I could touch. The transfer would show up in the
CHAPTER 5 — THIS TIME, I MOVE FIRSTI didn't sleep that night either.Ethan left after dinner with another soft kiss and a promise to call in the morning. The second the door closed I locked it, pulled every curtain, and opened my laptop with hands that wouldn't stop shaking.Next week.They were moving next week.I refused to wait for the attack.The first piece of inheritance I needed to protect was the Laurent Family Trust—specifically the block of voting shares my mother had left me under a delayed-release clause. She had written that clause carefully, with love and foresight, never imagining her own daughter would betray me. In the original timeline Chloe's mother had found a legal gap in the language and forced an early review. By the time I understood what was happening, the shares had already been frozen and then redirected into accounts I could no longer touch.That would not happen again.I called the only lawyer I still trusted—the one who had handled my mother's estate and
MY FIANCÉ'S SECRETEthan was waiting in the living room when I walked in.He stood the moment the door opened, crossed the room in four strides, and pulled me into a careful hug like I might break."I came as soon as I finished the meeting," he said against my hair. "Chloe told me you refused the ride. You should have called me."His arms felt the same. Warm. Steady. The exact pressure he always used when he wanted me to feel safe.I let him hold me for three seconds. Then I stepped back."I'm fine."He searched my face the way he used to after every small argument—soft eyes, slight frown, the look that said he would fix whatever was wrong if I just told him."You don't look fine. Sit. I'll get you water."I sat on the edge of the couch. He moved through my kitchen like he lived here. In the original timeline he almost did. He had a key. He kept clothes in the second closet. He knew which drawer held the headache pills.He handed me the glass and sat beside me, close enough that his
SMILE, SISTERMorning light cut across the hospital room.I had not slept.Chloe was still in the chair, head tilted against the wall, breathing evenly. The picture of exhausted devotion. Exactly the way she had sat the night after my mother's funeral years ago—when I still believed every soft word she said.I watched her for a long minute.In the weak hospital light, she looked almost innocent. Her face was softer than it would become in the years ahead, unmarked by the greed I now knew lived behind those eyes. Her hand rested on her lap, perfectly manicured, the nails still the pale pink she preferred before the bolder reds came later. This was Chloe before the transformation—before the affair, before the theft, before the calculated destruction.But she was still her. Still calculating. Still hunting.I tested the first memory.In the future I had seen, Chloe always ordered the same breakfast when she stayed overnight at the hospital with me: black coffee, no sugar, and a single p
I HAVE BEEN GIVEN ANOTHER CHANCEI didn't let go of Chloe's hand.I couldn't.If I moved, if I spoke, if I looked at her for one more second the way I wanted to, I would shatter.The nurse kept talking. Blood pressure. Possible concussion. Observation overnight. I heard none of it. My eyes stayed locked on the digital clock.August 14, 2023. 9:51 p.m.I blinked hard. The numbers didn't change.Chloe squeezed my fingers. "You're shaking. Does it hurt? Tell me where it hurts."She acted so caring the way she always does, but it was all fake.Ethan stepped closer, voice low and careful. "We were so scared. You just dropped. One second you were walking toward your father's office and the next—"I pulled my hand free.The movement was sharp. Chloe's smile flickered for half a second before she smoothed it back into place.I reached for the side table. My phone was there, screen cracked from the fall. I unlocked it with shaking fingers and opened the calendar.August 14, 2023.I switched t







