Chapter 1

The sunlight felt wrong.

Too bright.

My eyes snapped open.

I wasn't in the shelter, not on that thin, scratchy blanket.

This was my bedroom.

Our bedroom. Mine and Mike' s.

The floral comforter, the chipped nightstand, the digital clock reading 9:03 AM.

A date. Three years ago.

Three years before the pills, before the cold alley.

My heart hammered against my ribs.

It wasn't a dream.

The memories, sharp and cruel, flooded back – Brenda, the thefts, the frame-up, prison, the despair.

My death.

I was back.

A jolt, a pure, impossible second chance.

A knock on the front door.

Loud. Impatient.

Mrs. Henderson.

The prescription. It was starting.

My head throbbed, but this time, it was a different kind of pain.

It was the pain of clarity.

"Sarah? You getting that?" Mike called from the bathroom, his voice muffled by the running shower.

Last time, I rushed to the door, flustered, ready to apologize for something I didn't do.

Not this time.

"Mike, honey," I called out, my voice deliberately weak, "I think I have a terrible migraine, I can barely move."

I pressed my hands to my temples, a performance for an audience of one, if he even bothered to look.

The knocking came again, more insistent.

"Ugh, fine," Mike grumbled. A moment later, the shower shut off.

I heard him stomp down the stairs.

Then, Mrs. Henderson's raised voice, "Brenda, I have you on my Ring camera. Taking my medication!"

Brenda. Of course.

Her flustered, high-pitched denial drifted up. "Oh, dear, it must be a mistake! So many packages, Sarah's always ordering things, you know. An Amazon addiction, that girl."

Liar.

I lay back, a cold smile touching my lips.

Let her squirm. Let her face it.

Later, after Mrs. Henderson left, fuming but with her pills returned, Brenda came into the bedroom.

"That nosy old biddy," she muttered, "making such a fuss. And Sarah, you really should cut back on all that online shopping, it's confusing."

Mike stood in the doorway, looking uncomfortable. "Mom, Mrs. Henderson had footage."

"Oh, footage, shmootage," Brenda waved a dismissive hand. "It was a simple misunderstanding."

"Right," I said, sitting up slowly, my voice still laced with feigned weakness. "A misunderstanding. You know, Brenda, you might be right about the spending. We should be more frugal."

Mike looked relieved. "Yeah, see, Mom? Sarah gets it."

"Good," Brenda said, puffing up slightly. "It's for the good of the family."

"Exactly," I agreed, my smile sweet. "So, to save money after your... little mix-up today, I think I'll cancel a few things. Those fancy cheese subscriptions Mike loves, your weekly magazine hauls, Brenda. And all those non-essential gadgets Mike ordered last week? I'll return them. We need to tighten our belts."

Mike's jaw dropped. "Hey, now wait a minute-"

Brenda's face soured. "Well, I didn't mean-"

"No, no," I said, my voice firm but still oh-so-reasonable. "It's the responsible thing to do. We can't afford any more... misunderstandings."

This was just the beginning.