Chapter 1

The world snapped back into focus with a gut-wrenching lurch, like a film reel jumping its track.

One moment, I was surrounded by flames, the acrid smell of my own burning flesh filling my nostrils, my colleagues watching me die with fire extinguishers in their hands.

The next, I was standing in the busy, familiar chaos of the ER, the scent of antiseptic sharp and clean.

My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic, panicked rhythm. I looked down at my hands. They were steady, unscarred, clad in blue nitrile gloves. My scrubs were clean, not blackened with soot. I was alive. I was whole.

"Sarah, you good? You' ve been staring at that chart for a solid minute."

Nurse David Lee' s voice cut through my confusion. He stood beside me, his brow furrowed with genuine concern.

"Yeah, David. Just... spaced out for a second," I managed to say, my own voice sounding foreign.

It was all exactly as it was. The clock on the wall read 9:02 AM. I remembered this day. I remembered it with a clarity that made my stomach churn.

This was the day Dr. Emily Hayes arrived. This was the day it all began.

Just then, Dr. Peterson, our attending physician, walked through the main doors, his face set in its usual no-nonsense expression. Trailing just behind him was a young woman in a new set of scrubs, her eyes wide as she took in the controlled pandemonium of our emergency room.

Dr. Emily Hayes.

She looked so harmless, so eager. A fresh-faced resident ready to start her career. No one could see the poison coiled behind that smile. But I could. I had lived through it. I had died because of it.

"Team, listen up," Dr. Peterson announced, his voice cutting through the noise. "This is our new resident, Dr. Emily Hayes. Show her the ropes, get her up to speed. Hayes, this is Sarah Miller, our charge nurse. You' ll be shadowing her today. Stick close, learn something."

Emily offered me a bright, practiced smile. "It' s an honor, Sarah. I' ve heard so much about your instincts."

My own smile felt like a mask cracking on my face. "Welcome to the team, Dr. Hayes."

The air was thick with unspoken tension, a current only I could feel. I knew what was coming next.

As if on cue, the first major trauma alert of the day blared through the speakers. A multi-car pile-up on the freeway.

"Alright, people, let' s move!" Peterson commanded.

We all sprang into action, a well-oiled machine of nurses and doctors prepping bays, grabbing supplies, readying ourselves for the incoming wave of patients. I watched Emily, her eyes darting around, a strange look of concentration on her face.

The first gurney rolled in, a man covered in blood, his breathing shallow. We descended on him, a whirlwind of activity. I was about to call out vitals when Emily stepped forward.

She didn' t look at the monitors or the wounds. She just pointed a finger at the critically injured man.

"Don' t waste your time on him."

Her voice was calm, almost detached. The entire trauma bay went silent.

"He' s as good as dead. Saving him will only put others at risk, you' ll lose valuable time and resources."

A collective gasp went through the room. You could hear a pin drop over the beeping of the heart monitor.

Dr. Peterson' s face turned a deep shade of red. He rounded on Emily, his voice a low, furious growl.

"What did you just say, Doctor?"

Emily didn' t flinch. "I said he' s going to die. I can... see it. It' s better to focus on the ones we can actually save."

Peterson looked like he was about to physically eject her from the room. "Get out. Get out of my trauma bay right now. I don' t know what kind of medicine they taught you wherever you came from, but in my ER, we fight for every single life. Now go."

Emily' s face fell, a perfect picture of misunderstood sorrow. She gave a small nod and backed away, melting into the background.

David Lee sidled up to me as we worked, his voice low. "What the hell was that? Is she crazy? 'I can see it.' You' re the one with the gut instincts around here, Sarah, not some rookie psychic."

He was trying to lighten the mood, to reaffirm my place on the team. In the first timeline, I had laughed, dismissing Emily as an arrogant newbie. This time, a cold dread settled in my stomach.

We fought for that patient. We threw everything we had at him. We cracked his chest, we pushed meds, we transfused units of blood until the floor was slick with it.

And just like before, he died on the table.

As Dr. Peterson called the time of death, his shoulders slumped in defeat, I saw Emily watching from the doorway. She wasn't gloating. Her expression was one of profound, somber vindication.

She looked straight at me, her eyes holding a chilling message.

I told you so.

The unease in the room was palpable. The whispers started. The looks.

Later, I found her by the nurses' station, writing notes.

"That was quite a prediction," I said, keeping my voice even.

She looked up, her expression calm. "It wasn' t a prediction, Sarah. It was a certainty. I wish it wasn' t, but it was. You' ll all see."

She paused, her pen hovering over the chart.

"There' s more coming. Much more. You should all be prepared."

Before I could respond, the overhead speakers crackled to life again, the alert tone shrill and piercing.

"Mass casualty incident declared. Chemical plant explosion. Multiple inbound."

The controlled chaos of the ER instantly escalated into a frantic rush. Everyone was shouting, running, preparing for a nightmare.

And through it all, Emily Hayes just stood there, a look of grim certainty on her face, as if she was watching a movie she had already seen.

A movie where she was the only one who knew the ending.