Chapter 2

I opened my eyes.

New room. New sheets. New body.

I sat up, the standard ReLife Program disorientation fading.

This time, I was Sarah Miller. Twenty-three. Recent graduate. Entry-level marketing. Boston.

I went to the mirror.

The Agency always gave me a beautiful face.

This one was no exception. Dark hair, blue eyes, a face that was pretty but wouldn't stand out in a crowd.

Standard template. Unremarkable.

It was meant to be an advantage, they said.

Blend in. Make connections.

It hadn't worked with Ethan Cole five times.

He saw past the pretty faces. He saw Amelia.

And he despised her.

"I'd rather jump off this skyscraper, Amelia, than be with your desperate act."

His words echoed, sharp and clear.

That was as Maya, the fifth try.

The sailing trip, the cold water, the panic.

Then, nothing.

Until now. Sarah Miller.

I touched the face in the mirror.

It wasn't mine. None of them were.

But the weariness in the eyes, that was all Amelia.

All mine.

Sarah Miller. Living in a small apartment in the North End, according to the file uploaded to my neural interface.

Working a dead-end job.

My mission: integrate. Form a deep, stable emotional bond.

With Ethan Cole, or now, possibly, Liam Walker.

The bond was supposed to be my anchor, my protection.

Failure meant another reset. Another death.

I was so tired of dying.