Chapter 1

The late afternoon sun warmed the back of Ava's neck, a gentle weight that made her feel content.

Her campus studio was quiet, filled with the familiar smell of oil paint and turpentine.

A large canvas stood on an easel in the center of the room, a nearly finished piece that hummed with color and life.

This was her world, a place she had built for herself, away from the tangled mess of her family.

College was good.

Life was good.

She picked up a fine-tipped brush, ready to add the final details.

The sharp ring of her phone cut through the silence.

Ava frowned, annoyed by the interruption.

She wiped her hands on a rag and glanced at the screen.

The name flashed, and a knot of dread tightened in her stomach.

Leo.

"What do you want, Leo?" she answered, her voice cold.

"I need money," he said, his voice a familiar, demanding growl.

There was no greeting, no preamble.

He always went straight to the point.

"I don't have any money for you."

"Don't lie to me, Ava. Dad just gave you your tuition money. I know you have it."

Ava' s fingers tightened around her phone.

Her mother had married Leo' s father ten years ago, a well-meaning man who never seemed to see the trouble his own son was in.

Leo had been a problem since day one.

He dropped out of high school, drifted between dead-end jobs, and was always in some kind of trouble.

He resented Ava for her success, for the easy way she seemed to fit into their new family, for the attention she got from his father.

To him, she was an intruder who had stolen his life.

"That money is for my school, Leo. It's not for you to waste."

"I'm not wasting it! I have a plan," he insisted, his voice rising.

"Just give me a few hundred. I'll pay you back."

She knew he wouldn't.

He never did.

"No," she said, her voice firm.

"I'm hanging up now."

"Don't you dare hang up on me! I'm outside your building. Come down here right now, or I'm coming up."

A cold fear trickled down her spine.

She didn't want him here, in her sanctuary.

"Stay where you are," she said, her voice shaking slightly.

"I'll be right down."

She grabbed her keys and hurried out of the studio, her heart pounding.

The peaceful afternoon was shattered.

He was waiting for her on the sidewalk, pacing back and forth.

He looked older than his years, his face thin and drawn, his eyes filled with a desperate anger.

When he saw her, he strode forward, getting right in her face.

"Give me the money, Ava."

"I told you, no. Go home, Leo. Get a job."

"You think you're so much better than me, don't you? Little miss perfect artist," he sneered, and he gave her a hard shove.

Ava stumbled backward, her feet tangling.

She was on the edge of the curb, off balance.

As she tried to steady herself, he shoved her again, harder this time.

She fell backward, right into the street.

Everything happened at once.

The deafening screech of tires.

A blaring horn.

The blinding glare of headlights filling her vision.

A massive, unstoppable force slammed into her body.

Pain exploded through every nerve, a white-hot agony that stole her breath.

Then, there was only darkness.

Ava's eyes fluttered open.

The first thing she noticed was the light.

It was soft, filtered through a window with pink, cartoon-character curtains.

The air smelled of crayons and bubble gum.

This wasn't a hospital.

She tried to sit up, but her body felt strange, small and clumsy.

She was in a child' s bedroom.

The walls were covered in cheerful, brightly colored wallpaper.

A small desk was tucked in the corner, a half-finished drawing of a unicorn lying on its surface.

Her unicorn.

She remembered drawing that.

Slowly, she looked down at her hands.

They were tiny, plump, with short, unpainted fingernails.

These were not the hands of a college artist.

These were the hands of a little girl.

A wave of dizziness washed over her.

She slid out of the small bed, her bare feet hitting the soft rug.

She stumbled to a full-length mirror hanging on the back of the closet door.

A small girl with wide, confused eyes and two messy brown pigtails stared back at her.

Her face was round, her cheeks still holding their baby fat.

She was wearing pink pajamas with little yellow ducks on them.

Her gaze drifted to a calendar tacked to the wall beside the mirror.

Big, blocky numbers announced the month and day.

And the year.

2007.

A strangled gasp escaped her lips.

It wasn't a dream.

It couldn't be.

The accident... it hadn't killed her.

It had sent her back.

Back to when she was in the second grade.

Back to the beginning.

She had a second chance.

A chance to change everything.

A chance to stop Leo from becoming the monster who would one day cause her death.