Chapter 1

The sunlight felt wrong. Too bright. My eyelids fluttered.

I wasn't in the dark, cold. I wasn't on a steel table.

My own floral comforter. My tiny, slightly messy bedroom.

A wave of nausea hit me, not from pain, but from sheer impossibility.

I sat bolt upright. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic bird.

This was my apartment. The one I shared, foolishly, with Jessica.

The digital clock on my nightstand read 7:32 AM. April 12th.

A date seared into my memory. The day before it all went to hell.

"Emily? You up?" Jessica's voice, sickeningly sweet, drifted from the kitchen.

I swallowed, my throat dry. It couldn't be.

But the cheap IKEA dresser was there. My collection of thrift-store teacups sat on the shelf.

This was real.

Jessica appeared in the doorway, already dressed in her trendy boutique assistant uniform, a fake smile plastered on her face.

"Hey, sleepyhead. So, about this weekend..."

My breath caught. I knew what was coming.

"The Desert Bloom festival? I was thinking, since your Mustang is, like, way cooler than my clunker..."

She trailed off, expecting me to fill in the blanks, to offer.

The image flashed – my beautiful, hard-earned Mustang, mangled. A body on the asphalt. Cold dread washed over me, colder than the morgue.

"No."

The word was out before I could think, sharp and final.

Jessica blinked, her smile faltering. "No? What do you mean, no?"

"I mean no, Jessica. You can't borrow my car."

Her perfectly plucked eyebrows shot up. "Seriously, Em? What's your problem? I'll even chip in for gas."

"It's not about the gas." My voice was steady, a stark contrast to the tremor in my hands.

Just then, Mike strolled in, already in his greasy auto shop uniform. My boyfriend. Or so I'd thought.

He draped an arm around Jessica's shoulder, a gesture I'd once found friendly, now it screamed betrayal.

"Morning, babe," he said to me, then to Jessica, "What's up?"

"Emily's being weird about the Mustang," Jessica pouted, leaning into him. "I just want to borrow it for Desert Bloom."

Mike looked at me, his expression one of mild reproof. "Yeah, Em, what's the big deal? It's just a car. Jess will be careful."

The casual way he defended her, the easy intimacy between them. It was all there, clear as day.

Last time, I'd been blind. This time, my eyes were wide open.

I stared at them, at his hand still on her arm, at the faint smirk on her lips.

"I said no," I repeated, my voice like ice. "You're not touching my car."