Chapter 2

The roar of the crowd. The buzz of the Friday night lights. The chill of the October air.

I was standing in the high school parking lot. Alive.

My heart hammered against my ribs. I touched my face. No bruises. I checked my pocket. The Harvard letter was still there. It was real. I was back.

Then I heard it again. The same muffled cry from between the cars.

Jessica.

The trauma of my first life washed over me, a cold, suffocating wave. The handcuffs. The look on my dad's face. The screech of tires.

This time, I knew what to do.

I turned around. I put my hands in my pockets and walked away. Every step was a battle against the man my father raised me to be. But my father was alive right now. And my only job was to keep him that way. Saving Jessica Miller was not my responsibility. Not anymore.

I went to the auto shop. The smell of grease and old coffee filled the air. My dad was under a car, his bad leg propped up on a stool.

"Liam. Thought you were at the game," he said, his voice echoing in the garage.

"Left early," I said. "Need a hand?"

We closed up the shop together. I watched him, memorizing the lines on his face, the way he moved, the sound of his laugh. I had lost him once. I would not lose him again.

This life, my goal was simple. Protect my father. Get to Harvard. Forget everything else.

The next day at school was different. The hallways were normal. No police. No whispers. Just the usual morning chaos.

Then I saw her. Jessica was marching toward me, her face a storm of fury. Bryce was a few steps behind her, a smug look on his face.

She got right in my face.

"You!" she shrieked.

Then she slapped me. The sound cracked through the hallway noise. Everyone stopped to watch.

"You just stood there! You watched him hurt me and you did nothing! You coward!"

I didn't flinch. I just looked at her, my expression cold. The memories of her pointing at me, of the trial, of my father's funeral, they were a shield of ice around my heart.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said, my voice flat.

Principal Thompson pushed through the crowd that had formed.

"What is going on here? Miller, O'Connell, my office. Now."