Chapter 1: Burned Alive

The smell was what I remembered first.

Disinfectant, rust, and smoke. Thick, black smoke that crawled into my lungs and refused to let go.

I couldn't move. The leather straps on the asylum bed had cut into my wrists for so long that I had stopped feeling my hands. My throat was raw from screaming. No one ever came when I screamed in St. Agnes Psychiatric Hospital.

Not until today.

"Oh, Vivian. You're awake. Perfect. You should be awake for this."

I forced my eyes open. The smoke stung, made everything blurry, but I would know that voice anywhere.

Arthur Vance. My husband.

He stood in the doorway of my cell in a perfectly pressed grey suit, not a speck of dust on him, even as the fire roared down the hallway behind him. He held a silk handkerchief over his nose, his handsome face twisted in disgust. Like I was the garbage, not the burning building.

And next to him, clinging to his arm in a white Chanel dress, was my dear sister.

Chloe Lin.

My stepsister. The only person I had thought was family after my father died.

"Arthur? Chloe?" My voice was a broken croak. "Fire... there's a fire... help me. Please, untie me!"

Chloe giggled. She actually giggled while the flames licked closer.

"Silly Vivian," she said, tilting her head. "That's the point, darling. There is a fire. A very tragic, very accidental fire. Faulty wiring in the old psychiatric wing. The poor, mentally-ill heiress of the Lin family couldn't escape. Such a sad end."

My blood ran cold, colder than the fear.

"What... what are you saying?"

Arthur finally stepped inside. He didn't untie me. He crouched beside my bed, and for the first time in our three-year marriage, I saw him without the mask. No gentle smile. No loving eyes. Only cold, naked greed and contempt.

"You're still so stupid, Vivian. Even now," he sighed, as if I was disappointing him. "Did you really think I ever loved you? You? The fat, naive little girl who followed me around like a puppy?"

I shook my head violently, the straps biting deeper. "No! You said you loved me! You promised my father—"

"Your father?" Arthur laughed. "Your father was an old fool who refused to give me the shipping ports. Just like you refused to sign the final transfer papers last month. So Chloe and I had to... get creative."

My father's face flashed in my mind. My strong, loving father who died of a sudden heart attack in his office two years ago. The doctor said it was stress. I had believed them.

"No," I whispered. "No, no, no..."

"Yes," Chloe said sweetly, walking over to stroke my hair. Her nails dug into my scalp. "Daddy Lin's heart attack? It wasn't so sudden. A little something in his tea every day for a month. He clutched his chest so dramatically. It was almost entertaining."

The world stopped.

My father. They killed my father.

"You murdered him," I choked out, tears finally spilling, evaporating almost instantly from the heat. "You killed my father and you stole everything and you locked me in here!"

"Correction," Arthur said, standing up and straightening his cuffs. "We reclaimed what should have been ours. The Lin fortune, the company, the ports. You were just a useless vessel to get it. And now that I have your signature on the power of attorney — thank you for being so drugged you didn't know what you were signing — you are useless to us."

He pulled a folded document from his pocket and showed it to me. My signature. Shaky, drugged. Transferring all my shares to him.

"I was your wife!" I screamed until my throat bled. "I gave you everything! I gave you my family's legacy!"

"You gave it because you were blind!" Chloe screamed back, her perfect face finally twisting into the monster she really was. "All your life, Grandpa loved you more! Daddy loved you more! Everyone loved poor little Vivian! But what did you ever do to deserve it? I am the smarter one! I am the prettier one! I deserve the Lin name, and Arthur, and the money!"

The fire was in the room now. The curtains were ablaze. The heat was unbearable, melting my skin.

Arthur checked his expensive watch. "We should go. The fire department will be here in twenty minutes. Too late to save the crazy heiress."

They turned to leave.

Panic, raw and animalistic, ripped through me. "DON'T LEAVE ME! ARTHUR! PLEASE! CHLOE! I'M YOUR SISTER!"

Chloe looked over her shoulder and smiled. "Goodbye, sister. Burn in hell."

The door slammed shut. I heard the lock click.

The flames roared, jumping onto my bed sheets. The pain was instant, white-hot, eating my legs, my arms.

I had been a fool. A blind, stupid, deaf fool who had handed knives to the people who hated me most and begged them to stab me.

If there is a god, if there is anything after this—

My thoughts were no longer prayers. They were venom.

If I ever get another chance — even one second — I will not be blind again. I will rip everything from you. Your money. Your reputation. Your lives. I will make you kneel and beg and feel a tenth of this fire!

I swear it! I swear it on my life, on my father's soul!

I will make you both burn!

The fire swallowed my scream.

And then... darkness.

...

The first thing I felt was not pain.

It was softness.

Silk sheets. Cool air conditioning. No smoke. No straps.

I gasped and shot up, my hands flying to my body. No burns. No scars. My wrists were smooth. My skin was perfect.

This wasn't the asylum. This was... my bedroom. My old bedroom in the Lin mansion. The crystal chandelier, the white vanity I had since I was sixteen, the smell of my favorite peony perfume.

How?

I stumbled to the mirror. A girl stared back at me. Long black hair, untouched by stress. Clear, bright eyes. Plump lips. A face that hadn't cried for three years in a cell.

I was twenty-two again. Before the marriage. Before the weight loss that Arthur said made me worthy.

On the vanity, a red invitation card caught the light.

Gold lettering.

You are cordially invited to the engagement party of Miss Vivian Lin and Mr. Arthur Vance.

Date: July 21st.

Today was July 21st. The day of my engagement party to Arthur Vance. Exactly three years before my death.

I wasn't dead.

I was reborn.

My legs gave out and I sank to the floor, my hands shaking violently. But I wasn't crying from fear anymore.

A slow, terrible, beautiful smile spread across my face.

I pressed my hand over my mouth and started to laugh. Quiet at first, then louder, until my shoulders shook.

They were downstairs right now, weren't they? Arthur with his fake gentle smile, Chloe holding my hand and calling me sister, my stepmother toasting to my happy future while plotting to steal it.

They thought I was still that blind, naive Vivian.

They had no idea what they had just brought back from that fire.

"Arthur. Chloe." I whispered to my reflection, my eyes burning red with hatred and triumph. "I'm back."

And this time, I will be the one who sets the fire.