The Rope That Told the Truth

My phone buzzed.

I opened my eyes and saw the underside of the bunk above me. From the lower bunk, I heard Chloe Pierce's voice.

"Lena, come with us to Eagle's Beak Cliff tomorrow to film a video. It'll be quick."

I had heard those exact words in my previous life.

Exactly the same.

My fingers tightened around my blanket. My nails dug into my palm.

It hurt.

This wasn't a dream.

I really was back.

I took a deep breath and kept my voice flat.

"What are we going there for?"

"A graduation memory video. It'll be meaningful."

Chloe made it sound so casual.

A graduation memory.

In my last life, I believed her.

Only when we got there did I find out she wanted to film an "extreme challenge."

She planned to tie a rope around her waist and pretend to fall off the cliff while I played along as the person who "pushed" her.

She was afraid I would look unnatural if I knew the truth, so she hid the plan from me the entire time.

All she told me was, "Just stand next to me. You don't have to do anything."

Then she shouted, "Don't push me," and threw herself backward.

The rope snapped.

She died.

After that, her two little followers, Sienna Marsh and Molly Weaver, cried in front of the camera and said, "Lena Macmillan has always been jealous of Chloe. We never thought she'd actually have the nerve to kill her."

The whole internet believed them.

I was cyberbullied, arrested, and sentenced.

My mother sold our home to pay compensation. She knelt outside the courthouse and hit her head on the ground until a brain hemorrhage killed her.

I strangled myself with a shoelace in the detention center.

In my final second before death, I heard two guards chatting outside the door.

"That college girl who pushed someone off a cliff killed herself."

"Serves her right."

This life, I wouldn't be fooled again.

"Fine. I'll go," I said.

Chloe gave a satisfied hum, rolled over, and went back to scrolling on her phone.

The dorm room fell quiet.

I lay on the top bunk, staring at the ceiling while my mind raced.

In my last life, I knew nothing, so I did nothing.

This life, I knew everything.

So I had three things to do.

First, let them destroy themselves.

Second, leave evidence.

Third, keep myself clean.

I dug out my old phone and opened a shopping app.

I ordered a pinhole camera, small enough to clip to a collar.

Then I ordered a micro voice recorder that could run for eight hours.

The delivery would arrive tomorrow morning.

There was still time.

After that, I opened a browser and searched, "Eagle's Beak Cliff blind spots."

In my last life, Chloe had scouted the location ahead of time. She picked a bend in the cliffside walkway.

It happened to sit outside the park's surveillance coverage, and that blind spot became the dead end I could never explain my way out of.

This time, I was going to place my own cameras there.

Not just one.

I wanted every angle recorded.

The next morning, the package arrived.

I stitched the pinhole camera into the collar of my hoodie and slipped the recorder into the inner pocket of my jacket.

I also placed two portable action cameras in my bag.

One would be strapped to the walkway railing. The other would be hidden in the shrubs nearby.

Three camera angles.

That was enough.

Before leaving, I stood in front of the mirror and looked at my neck.

The skin there was smooth and intact. No ligature marks.

In my last life, inside the detention center bathroom stall, I tied my shoelace around the door handle and dropped my weight downward.

I still remembered the feeling of suffocation.

My windpipe being crushed. My eyes bulging. My ears ringing like fireworks were exploding inside them.

Then everything went black.

But now, I could still breathe.

I clenched my fists until my nails bit into my flesh.

It hurt.

Good.

I pulled at the corner of my mouth and smiled.

Let's go.