CHAPTER 005

NINA.

Was I dead?

I didn’t know.

I was floating, drifting somewhere in nothingness, weightless, thoughtless. Time didn’t exist here. I didn’t exist here.

Not until I saw a light.

It flickered at first, a tiny dot on the horizon. Then it grew, shifting, extending, twisting into shapes, hues, memories. I was moving toward it, drawn like a moth to flame, like something inside me knew it.

And then I was there.

A tangy scent filled the air; paint. The metallic smell of acrylics and oil paints, turpentine and canvas. The air was hot, alive with laughter.

I stood in the midst of a bright studio, walls smudged with smears of color, swooping abstract brushstrokes, half-finished pieces everywhere. My dad knelt beside little Audrey, both of them smothered in paint.

My breath hitched.

Dad.

Alive. Well. Young.

My heart hurting, I went closer, letting myself take everything in, the glint of joy in his eyes, the way that his smile drew lines on either side of his face, the blue smudge of paint along his cheekbone.

"Dad?" My little voice was big with hope.

He gazed up at me, his face breaking out in that bright, familiar smile. "Sweet, sweet girl! Come look at your sister's work."

A voice behind me laughed. "Oh, Daniel, yours isn't much better."

I spun around. My breath hitched in disbelief.

Mom.

Carrying a platter of cookies, her hair pulled back, a mischievous smirk on her lips. She grasped my hand, her heat glaring into my skin, anchoring me. Her touch felt so real, I almost cried.

I let her lead me across, my knees folding involuntarily as I huddled beside them. My eyes darted between my parents and sister, my chest aching with something close to hope.

"Am I dreaming?" I whispered.

Dad's smile faltered. His brows were creased in a look of study.

"You shouldn't be here."

I straightened up. "What?"

His face tightened. "Go back, sweet girl."

I shook my head, terror rising in my chest. "No, I…I don't want to leave."

His eyes widened. He placed his hands around my shoulders, his grasp tight, desperate. "GO BACK. NOW!"

And then he pushed me.

I screamed as I staggered back, tumbling and tumbling and tumbling through space, through time, through existence….

—

I slammed down hard.

My eyes snapped open, struggling for air, my lungs burning. Then I heard fair coices.

"She’s alive…"

"Quick, she is alive! Quickly come—!"

They faded away and darkness closed in on me once more. My lids dropped low. My body was too drained, too battered. This time, when the darkness came, I did not catch sight of my family again.

—

I had no idea g how much time passed.

Seconds? Hours? Days? Time meant nothing here.

I drifted in and out of consciousness, my body trapped in a cycle of pain and healing. I was alive.

Why? I didn’t want to live.

Where was Audrey?

A sharp pang shot through me. Audrey.

My heart clenched. My little sister, where was she? Was she safe? Was she alive? Did she know I was alive?

Panic rushed through me, breaking me out of the fog. My eyes burst open.

The view in front of me didn't make sense to me.

There was a strange old lady sitting next to me, her face filled with slight relief. A young boy stood in front of her, holding his hands together tentatively.

The woman exhaled, placing a hand on her chest. "Thank God you're awake, Lauren. We almost lost you."

Lauren? My brows creased.

The boy, who was around four or five, hesitated before he took my hand, his little fingers closing around mine. His voice was tiny, uncertain. "Mommy?"

My breath froze. He yanked his hand back quickly, as if he were afraid.

Mommy? What…?

I barely had time to respond to that before my gaze turned to the man at the end of my bed.

Tall. Really, really tall. He had broad shoulders, sharp jaw, a presence that sucked the air out of the room. He was wearing an expensive three-piece suit, his tie straight and neat, his watch glinting under the cold hospital lights. His dark eyes were icy, like he was staring at a problem, not a person.

Like he disliked me.

I swallowed.

Did I know him? Why was he staring at me like that?

His lips pressed into a thin line before he nodded curtly. "It's good to know you survived, Lauren."

I blinked. Lauren?

Why were they referring to me by that name? Where was Lauren? Did she survive?

There was a weird feeling creeping up my spine. My fists gripped the hospital blanket.

The elderly woman placed a gentle hand on my arm. "Do you want something, dear?"

I opened my mouth, my dry throat rasping. "I—" I swallowed. "I need to use the restroom."

She nodded and helped me out of bed. My legs wobbled as I shuffled toward the toilet, the hospital gown falling down to below my knees.

She waited patiently outside while I went in, my head spinning.

Something was wrong. Where was Lauren? How much time had passed since the accident? I needed to talk to her, ask her about my father’s murder.

After urinating, I slowly limped towards the sink, and reached to the tap. As the water cascaded down my hands, my eyes wandered up to the mirror.

And I froze. A stranger gazed back at me. My heart stopped.

I gasped, retreating, my breath snagging in a frantic breaths.

That…That wasn’t me.

But at the same time, it was.

The features were almost like mine but so different, different cheekbones, different nose, only hue of my eyes remained the same. But it wasn’t my face. It was hers.

Lauren Hilton’s.