Chapter 1

The shrill sound of my alarm clock cut through the quiet room.

6:00 AM.

I sat up in bed, my heart pounding in my chest. I looked at my hands. They were smooth, unblemished, without the faint scars from the IV drips. I touched my stomach. It was flat, but soft. There was no lingering ache, no ghost of a surgical wound.

It wasn't a dream. I was back.

I got out of bed and walked to the full-length mirror. My reflection stared back, a girl I hadn't seen in a long time. Healthy, with light in her eyes, not the hollowed-out shell I had become. I was twenty-four again, living in the apartment my fiancé, Liam, rented for us. One year before the wedding. One year before everything fell apart.

A wave of memory, cold and sharp, washed over me.

The sterile smell of the hospital. Liam' s voice, not full of concern, but of cold disappointment.

"Chloe, the doctor said the liposuction failed. You didn't lose enough weight. The wedding is in two months. Do you understand how this makes me look?"

I remembered the pain, not just from the surgery, but from his words. I had starved myself, run until my joints screamed, and finally, let them put me under the knife for him. For his image. For our perfect future.

And then there was Maya. My best friend. My maid of honor. She held my hand, her face a perfect mask of sympathy.

"Oh, Chloe, don't listen to him," she had whispered, dabbing a tissue at my dry eyes. "You tried so hard. Maybe your body just isn't meant to be thin."

Her words felt like comfort then. Now, I knew they were poison.

The truth hadn't come to me until the very end, on my deathbed, when my body finally gave out from a post-op infection. A rare, almost magical curse had linked us. It was a bond I had unknowingly forged, a desperate prayer on a lonely night, wishing I could just give my fat away to someone who wanted it.

It turned out, Maya had been the one to answer.

The mechanism was deceptively simple. Every ounce of fat I burned through grueling exercise, every pound I lost through starvation, didn't just vanish. It transferred to her. But it didn't stay as fat. The curse, fueled by her envy and my desperation, refined it. It became vitality, a glow in her skin, a brightness in her eyes. The more I suffered to meet Liam' s standards, the more beautiful and radiant she became.

She wasn' t just my best friend. She was a parasite, feeding on my self-hatred.

I stood there, in front of the mirror, my breathing steady. The initial shock was fading, replaced by a cold, hard clarity. I wasn't the weak, naive Chloe anymore. The girl who died in that hospital bed had learned the rules of their cruel game.

This time, I wasn't just going to play. I was going to win.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand. It was Liam.

I walked over, my steps firm on the plush carpet. I let it buzz a few more times before answering, my voice deliberately sleepy.

"Hey," I said.

"Did you just wake up? It's six. You said you were starting your new workout plan today." His voice was tight with irritation.

The same words. The same conversation that started my descent into hell.

I smiled, a thin, cold smile that the old Chloe never could have managed.

"Of course," I said, my voice sweet as honey. "I'm just getting my workout clothes on right now. I won't let you down."

I hung up before he could reply, the lie tasting like the beginning of my revenge.