4: What the Hell Is She Thinking?

Emily's pov

I could hear Zelda Graham's thoughts.

I stared at her, searching for any reasonable explanation. Maybe I'd hit my head harder than I thought. Or maybe transmigrating into a fictional character came with side effects nobody warned you about.

Whatever the reason, this was officially the worst week of my life. And since I'd already died once, that was saying something.

"Are you alright, Kailani?" Zelda asked, tilting her head, her hand still on the doorknob.

*Why is she staring at me like that?*

I flinched so hard the bed creaked. That wasn't the voice she'd just spoken with. It was the same one, but her mouth hadn't moved.

"I'm fine," I said, swallowing.

*She doesn't look fine.*

"Just tired," I added, gripping the sheet.

*Something is wrong with her.*

Great. I'd barely survived dying, and now my brain had turned into a public announcement system. Except the announcements were private, and I hadn't subscribed.

"Then get some rest," Zelda said softly. "You've been through so much."

"How thoughtful," I said.

She smiled.

*Since when does Kailani talk to me like that?*

I almost laughed. Since the body she lived in had been taken over by a woman with no plans to spend her life begging a man for attention, sweetheart.

"We can talk properly when you're feeling better," Zelda said, and slipped out, closing the door behind her.

I dropped my head back onto the pillow. "What the actual fuck?" I groaned.

A nurse passing in the corridor stopped and peeked in. "Not you," I called, lowering my voice. "I'm having a private conversation with my terrible life choices," I added.

She stared at me for a second, then kept walking. I covered my face with both hands.

*Think, Emily.* I could hear Zelda's thoughts. That much was real. But did it work on everyone? Could I switch it on and off? Was there a button somewhere?

I closed my eyes and concentrated until my forehead ached. Nothing. I tried again, harder, my jaw clenched.

Nothing.

"Come on," I muttered. "Give me something useful. Lottery numbers. The secret to eternal youth. Anything."

Silence.

"Fantastic," I told the ceiling. "A supernatural ability with terrible customer service."

A knock sounded, and Charles came in with my phone and a glass of water. "How do you feel now, sweetheart?" he asked, setting the phone beside me.

"Like I got hit by a truck," I said.

He stopped mid-step. I stared at him. He stared at me.

"Sorry," I said quickly, wincing. "Bad choice of words."

His face softened, though the worry stayed in his eyes. He pressed the glass into my hand. "Your mother is talking to the doctor," he said. "He says you can go home once he's sure you're stable."

Home. The word settled in my chest, warm and unexpected. I didn't know Charles Vincent, but he looked at me like I was the most precious thing he owned. I wondered what it felt like to be loved without having to earn it, and my throat tightened.

"Thank you," I said quietly, staring at the water.

"You never have to thank me, Lani," he said. "You're my daughter."

Something twisted in my stomach. I wasn't his daughter. I was Emily Authur, a woman who'd died in the street and inherited someone else's life. But I couldn't explain that without getting myself transferred to a psychiatric ward.

Charles dragged his chair closer. "There's something I've wanted to talk to you about," he said. "Your involvement in Vincent Group."

My head came up. In the novel, Kailani had spent years brushing off her father's attempts to bring her into the business. She'd been too busy chasing Edward Bernard.

"I know you've never been interested," Charles went on, rubbing the back of his neck. "But when you're ready, I'd like you to start learning how the company runs. You don't have to decide anything now. Just learn."

A real company. A future that didn't depend on any man. I turned the offer over, looking for the trap. "I'd like that," I said.

Charles blinked. "You would?"

"Yes. I think it's time I stopped wasting my life," I said, meeting his eyes.

He looked so stunned I almost laughed. Then his whole face crumpled into a grin. "That's wonderful, Lani," he said, squeezing my hand.

His joy was real. For once, I didn't need a supernatural power to know what someone felt.

After he left, I went over my plan. Learn the business. Avoid Edward. Keep Zelda at arm's length. Stay far away from Nikolai Bernard.

Simple. Which meant the universe would wreck it before dinner.

Later, Rosa came back with the doctor. He checked my pupils and agreed I could leave the next day if I kept improving. Rosa fussed with my pillows while Charles answered the doctor's last questions. I was finally starting to relax when a thought slid into my head.

*I hope the little girl is alright.*

I sat bolt upright. That wasn't mine.

A nurse stood by the door, checking her clipboard, several feet away. Then another thought drifted in.

*I should call my sister after my shift.*

My breath hitched. The nurse glanced up. "Something wrong, Miss Vincent?" she asked.

"No," I said, too fast. "Everything's perfectly normal."

She gave me a puzzled look and walked out. Her thoughts faded the moment she reached the hall. I turned toward the window, my pulse racing. So it wasn't just Zelda. I could hear anyone close enough, a few feet at most. The voices came without warning, and I had no idea how to call them up or shut them off.

The possibilities were terrifying. If I could hear what people were thinking, I could catch a lie. I could learn what someone wanted before they acted. But thoughts weren't evidence. People thought terrible things without doing them, and I couldn't accuse anyone of anything because their mind had produced an ugly sentence.

I needed rules. Never reveal the ability. Never jump to conclusions. Never trust a thought without proof. And absolutely no telling anyone I'd picked up the world's most invasive party trick.

"Kailani, darling?" Zelda called through the door. "May I come in?"

I froze. She'd said tomorrow. Apparently she couldn't wait either.

She came in with a small box of chocolates. "I thought these might cheer you up," she said, setting them on the table.

"How considerate," I said, folding my hands to keep them still.

She sat on the edge of the bed. "I've been thinking about you," she said. "You're my best friend, you know."

My stomach tightened. She sounded tender, almost convincing. Then she leaned in and dropped her voice. "There's something I wanted to ask. Do you remember anything unusual from the night before your accident?"

I kept my face blank. "Why do you ask?" I said.

Zelda paused, her fingers twisting together in her lap. "I only wondered if you remembered anything that might explain what happened."

She looked genuinely concerned. Then her thoughts came through, clear and unmistakable.

*If Kailani remembers what happened that night, everything I've worked for will fall apart.*

For one terrible second I forgot how to move. Zelda watched me, waiting, her eyes wide and soft. I forced my fingers to loosen on the blanket.

"What happened that night?" I asked, keeping my voice light.

Her smile didn't move. "I was hoping you could tell me," she said.

I stared at her, heart pounding. She was hiding something, something big enough to frighten her, something tied to a night she prayed I couldn't remember. I had no idea what Zelda had done.

But I was going to find out. If that ridiculous novel had taught me anything, it was that the sweetest people kept the ugliest secrets.