Chapter 3 PLAYING THE GAME

When I walk back into the apartment, Evan is standing in the kitchen shirtless, leaning against the counter with a mug of coffee.

Sunlight spills through the window, catching on his skin, making him look like the man I used to love. It would have made me weak once.

Now, all I see is a liar wrapped in soft morning light.

"You disappeared," he says, raising an eyebrow. "I thought we were having breakfast." I close the door behind me and hang my sweater on the hook. My voice is steady when I say, "I needed some air."

His eyes narrow slightly, like he's looking for cracks in my words.

"You're acting weird." Weird? Yeah, dying and waking up ten years in the past will do that to you.

I force a small laugh. "Sorry. Bad dream. I needed to clear my head."

He studies me for a few seconds before nodding, pretending he's buying it. His thoughts slide into my head like someone's whispering in my ear. She's moody today. Must be that time of the month.

I'll just charm her later. I smile so hard my cheeks hurt. If only he knew the storm brewing inside me. I step closer, pretending nothing's wrong, pretending I'm still the girl who trusted him. That girl was easy to control. This one isn't.

I brush my fingers over his arm as I pass him. "Coffee smells good."

He grins, smug. "I know. I make the best coffee." I want to punch that grin right off his face. Instead, I open the fridge.

"Are you working late tonight?"

He shrugs. "Probably. Big meeting tomorrow. You know how it is.

I know exactly how it is. He's probably already flirting with his coworker at this point in the timeline. Back then, I pretended not to notice. This time, I'll notice everything.

I grab an apple from the fridge. He watches me, leaning back like he owns the room. Technically, back then, he did.

I paid half the bills, but he always acted like it was his apartment. He loved control. Loved power. I used to let him have it. Not anymore.

"You're quiet," he says.

"I'm just tired," I answer, biting into the apple. His thoughts hum through my mind again. She'll be fine later. I'll take her out tomorrow.

She loves that little diner. Cheap date, easy points. I almost choke on the apple. Cheap date, easy points.

I used to think those dates were special. I used to think he looked at me like I was his world. All the while, he was keeping score like love was a game.

I look up at him with a sweet smile.

"I'd like that."

His smile widens. Of course you would. I'm going to enjoy destroying you, Evan.

Later that afternoon, Lena calls. Hearing her voice nearly breaks me. She sounds so young. So full of life. Back then, she was my closest friend.

The only one who ever questioned if Evan was really as perfect as I claimed.

"Are we still on for lunch?" she asks through the phone.

"Yeah," I say softly. "I'll meet you at the usual spot."

"The usual spot" is a small café downtown. The same one where she once warned me not to give.

Evan everything. I ignored her. Now, I want to hug her.

The café looks exactly like I remember. Worn-out wooden tables, the smell of burnt coffee beans, and the constant hum of people trying to sound interesting.

Lena is already at a corner table, waving when she sees me. Her hair is shorter, and her face is brighter.

She hasn't gone through the storm yet. Not like me.

"Hey, stranger," she says when I sitdown. "You look... different."

I laugh. "Different good or different bad?"

"Different like you've seen somethings," she says, narrowing her eyes.

"What happened?"

How do I tell her that I died last night and woke up ten years earlier with a power I can't fully control? I stir my iced coffee instead. "Just a bad dream."

She gives me a look. "A dream?"

"Yeah. One of those real ones." She leans forward. "Let me guess. Evan died and you inherited all his money?"

I grin despite myself. "Close." She laughs, then her smile fades a little. "Seriously, though. I've always thought he was too smooth." I raise an eyebrow. "Too smooth?"

She lowers her voice. "You know. Charming. Too charming. Like a salesman. I keep waiting for the part where he tries to sell me a timeshare."

Her thoughts slide into my head before she finishes the sentence. He's hot, but he gives me weird vibes. I hope she never gets hurt.

My throat tightens. If only she knew what would happen years from now. If only she knew how right she was.

"Lena," I say quietly, "thank you."

"For what?"

"For always being honest."

She blinks, surprised. "That's new. Usually you get defensive." Yeah. I used to defend him like a fool. I sigh. "Maybe I should have listened more."

She leans back. "Uh-oh. Did you guys fight?"

I shake my head. "No. Not yet." "Not yet?" she repeats, raising an eyebrow. I shrug. "Just a feeling." She studies me for a moment.

"You're weird today. But like... a good weird."

I smile. "Thanks, I guess." We talk for another hour. It's normal and warm, and for a second, I let myself forget the blood, the knife, the way Evan's eyes looked as I bled out. I just laugh with my best friend.

I missed this.

But the world has a way of reminding me what's real. As I'm walking home, I hear it again.

That voice.

A sharp whisper right next to my ear, too soft for anyone else to hear.

He's already planning his first lie. I freeze on the sidewalk. People pass me without a glance. The whisper fades, but my heart won't slow down.

Evan's sitting on the couch when I get home, scrolling through his phone. He doesn't even look up when I step in.

"Hey," he says. "Where'd you go?"

"Lunch with Lena," I answer.

He gives a short nod. His thoughts slide into my head again. I should text Sarah later. She always replies fast. It's easy with her.

Sarah. The name twists in my chest. I remember that name. I'd found texts on his phone two years after this point. He said it was nothing. I believed him. Stupid.

I keep my face calm. "I was thinking we could go out tomorrow night."

He finally looks at me, surprised.

"Really?"

I nod. "Yeah. Just us."

His smile spreads slowly. She's finally acting normal.

"Sure," he says. "We'll go wherever you want."

"Great."

I walk into the bedroom before he can say anything else. I need a second to breathe. To plan.

He thinks he's already won. He thinks I'm the same Aria who will swallow every excuse, forgive every sin, and look the other way because I love him. But I'm not her anymore.

This time, I'll let him think I'm soft.

I'll let him underestimate me. And when he falls, it'll be hard and loud.

That night, I lie in bed beside him.

He's asleep, breathing softly. I stare at the ceiling, replaying every thought I'd heard today. Every lie he hasn't even told me yet. Every betrayal that's still waiting in the shadows.

I close my eyes and focus on the noise in my head. It's getting easier to control now, like tuning a radio.

I can focus on one person at a time. Block out the rest. The only thing I can't control is the silence I felt earlier today.

That man in the park. I turn onto my side, away from Evan.

I can still see the man's face in my mind. Sharp jaw. Black suit. A quiet that didn't feel like absence but power. Everyone else is an open book. He's a locked safe.

Why him?

My phone buzzes on the nightstand. I grab it quickly so Evan doesn't stir. An unknown number flashes on the screen. One new message.

Nice day for a second chance, isn't it?

My breath catches.

Another buzz. Second message.

Enjoy the game, Aria. It's just getting started.

I stare at the glowing screen, my hands cold. I don't know this number. I don't know this person. But someone out there knows exactly what happened to me.

I glance at Evan. He's still asleep. Peaceful. Unaware. I type a quick reply.

Who are you? Three dots appear instantly, like they've been waiting.

You'll find out soon. Don't die too early this time.

I drop the phone. My pulse races in my throat. This isn't just some random miracle. Someone's behind this. Someone who's watching me.

The air in the room suddenly feels heavier. I reach for the curtain and peek outside. The street is quiet.The lamplight spills over the pavement.

And right across the street, leaning against a lamppost like he's been there all night, is the man in the black suit.

He looks up. Our eyes lock.

The silence around him presses against me like a hand on my chest.

Then, slowly, he lifts his phone to his ear.

Mine buzzes again.

Run.