Chapter 1

The scream tore through my memory, raw and unending, it was my own.

I saw Sam, my little brother, crumple on the football field, his helmet flying off.

Then the frantic calls, my mother, Dr. Eleanor Vance, chief of surgery, too busy in Napa with Chloe, my adopted sister.

"Lily, stop being dramatic," Chloe' s voice had cooed over the phone, poisoning Mom' s ear.

Sam died.

They blamed me.

Then Mom, her face a mask of grief and rage, shoved me. The stairs rushed up. Darkness.

Now, my eyes snapped open.

Sunlight streamed into my room.

It was the morning of the game.

The same posters on the wall, the same clothes draped over my chair.

I was back.

My heart hammered against my ribs, a wild bird trapped.

I could save Sam. I had to.

Downstairs, the smell of bacon and coffee filled the air, a sickeningly normal aroma.

Chloe was already at the table, animatedly telling Dad, Mark Carter, about some school award.

He listened, smiling, doting.

Mom wasn't there, she' d already left for her "important work trip" to Napa with Chloe, a trip I knew was pure leisure.

Chloe was adopted years ago, her parents, Mom' s close friends, supposedly died saving Sam from a boating accident.

A hero' s tale that made Chloe untouchable, perpetually deserving of sympathy and the best of everything.

It also made Sam a constant, unwitting reminder of their sacrifice, a burden he never asked for.

My real brother, Sam, who' d grown distant from me in the previous life, thanks to Chloe' s whispers.

This time, things would be different.

I wouldn' t be their scapegoat.

I ate in silence, the food tasteless.

The clock ticked, each second a hammer blow towards the inevitable.

The game.

I saw Sam before he left, his usual cocky grin in place.

"Wish me luck, big sis."

"Always, Sam," I said, my voice tight. I wanted to scream, to tell him not to play, to fake an illness.

But who would believe me? Lily, the jealous, dramatic one.

At the stadium, the roar of the crowd was deafening.

I found a seat high in the bleachers, away from everyone.

Then it happened, just like before.

The crack of impact, Sam falling, not getting up.

A wave of nausea hit me, the past crashing into the present.

My legs trembled.

I saw the coaches run onto the field, the paramedics following.

In my first life, I had run down, hysterical, the first to call Mom.

This time, I stood, turned, and walked away.

Each step was heavy, a betrayal and a desperate hope.

I couldn't be the one to make those futile calls again.

I couldn't be the harbinger.

I reached home, the house eerily quiet.

My phone rang. It was Dad.

"Lily? Where are you? Sam' s been hurt, it' s bad. We' re at Mercy Hospital."

His voice was strained, terrified.

"I... I was at the game, Dad. I just got home," I lied, my voice flat.

"Get to the hospital, now!"

I hung up, my hand shaking.

Then, my phone rang again. Mom' s number.

I let it ring, then answered.

"Lily? Your father just called me, hysterical. What happened to Sam? And why weren't you with him? Why didn' t you call me immediately and properly?" Eleanor' s voice was sharp, laced with accusation already.

Chloe was probably right beside her, feeding her lines.

"I... I didn' t see it happen clearly," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "Dad called me."

"You're always so unreliable," she snapped, before hanging up.

The blame had already started, just like before.