Chapter 3

Back in the city, the contrast was stark. My friends and I were checked into luxury suites at a five-star hotel near the testing center, courtesy of my father. Calm, quiet, with room service and comfortable beds – perfect for pre-SATs prep.

Ethan and Brittany were not so fortunate.

I knew Ethan's family was struggling financially. His pride, however, was enormous. He'd never admit he couldn't afford a decent hotel room the night before the most important exam of his life.

I "ran into" them in the lobby of a much cheaper, far less reputable establishment down the street. Ethan looked rumpled and stressed. Brittany was complaining loudly about the smell of stale cigarettes.

"Oh, Ethan, Brittany, hi!" I said, feigning surprise. "Settling in okay?"

Ethan flinched. "Yeah, fine," he mumbled, avoiding eye contact.

Brittany, however, narrowed her eyes. "This place is a dump. I bet your hotel is amazing, Ava. You probably planned this, didn't you? To make us look bad."

"Planned what?" I asked, all innocence. "The flash flood? My father getting us out?"

"No, this!" she gestured around the dingy lobby. "Showing off your money. You're just jealous of me and Ethan, of our bond."

Ethan, surprisingly, nodded in agreement. "Yeah, Ava. It's not cool to rub it in."

My, my. How quickly he'd forgotten Brittany throwing him under the bus for a helicopter seat. Or perhaps Brittany, master manipulator, had already twisted the narrative in the short time since their rescue.

"I'm not rubbing anything in," I said smoothly. "I was just concerned. I hope you both get a good night's sleep for the test."

They exchanged a look. A look that said they were united against a common enemy: me.

"We will," Ethan said, a new, defiant glint in his eye. "And I'm going to ace that test. Get a full scholarship. You'll see."

This was new. In our past life, he was a good student, but not scholarship-level confident. This smugness, this certainty... it was unnervingly familiar. It was the same delusion he'd clung to after Brittany's death, the one that fueled his blame.

A chilling thought struck me. Could Ethan be reborn too?

The way he looked at me then, a flicker of something knowing, something almost challenging in his eyes, made my blood run cold. If he was, this game just got a lot more complicated. And a lot more dangerous.

I simply smiled. "I'm sure you will, Ethan. Good luck to you both."

As I walked away, I heard Brittany whisper to him, "She's so fake. Don't worry, E, we'll show her."

Oh, I was counting on it.