I woke up to the familiar rumble of thunder, the bruised purple sky mirroring the dread in my stomach: exam day.
It was all happening again, precisely like last time.
Last time, Kevin, my earnest ex, held us back for Brie, the school' s queen bee, who, ever the drama, insisted on a "critical influencer photoshoot."
We were late, of course.
But the real disaster wasn't just missing the exam.
Later, at a supposed peace offering, Brie handed me a coffee.
It was laced with tree nuts, my deadliest allergen.
I died.
Kevin and his "Elites" lied, claiming I was distraught and ate something by accident.
Brie played victim online, painting me as the bully, while my mother' s quest for justice shattered her life.
Having lived through that betrayal, that humiliation, that fatal setup once, to wake up here again on this exact morning felt like a second chance – not just at life, but at cosmic rebalancing.
Why was I back?
This time, I wouldn't say a single word.
Let them wait.
Let them miss their exam.
Let them ruin their own lives.
My future at MIT was already secure.
Theirs, however, was about to unravel, with me watching from the sidelines.