My first breath felt like drowning.
I gasped, my lungs burning as though I had clawed my way out of the depths of the ocean. My body jerked upright, a strangled scream catching in my throat as my fingers dug into the sheets, clawing at the fabric, at my skin, at reality.
No, no, no. This wasn't right.
I had died.
I could still feel it—my body sinking into the abyss, the darkness swallowing me whole, the betrayal thick like poison in my veins. I remembered the pain. The whispers. The voices that had surrounded my motionless body as I lay helpless, unable to fight, unable to breathe—
But now, I was breathing.
My wild, terror-stricken eyes darted across the dimly lit room, my chest heaving. My bedroom. The same pink walls, the cherrywood dresser, the vanity cluttered with cosmetics. It was all the same, untouched by time. But it couldn't be.
My hands trembled violently as I reached up, touching my own face, my own lips, my own throat. Real. I was real. Alive.
A choked sob broke past my lips. Was this the afterlife? Some cruel, twisted illusion before I was dragged back into the void?
I turned sharply toward my nightstand, and my breath caught at the glowing fluorescent numbers. 5:47 AM. The date below it sent ice through my veins.
The day of my high school graduation.
Two years before my death.
Two years before my ruin.
A violent shudder wracked my body, and a fresh wave of panic crashed into me. This was wrong. This was impossible. I had died.
A knock on the door made me jump so violently that I almost tumbled out of bed.
"Lia, wake up! You'll be late for graduation!"
I froze, my blood running cold. That voice. The housekeeper. The one Regina had died in the car accident. She's alive?
I pressed a trembling hand against my mouth, squeezing my eyes shut. My heart was slamming against my ribs, the panic still gripping my throat, but through it all, a sharp realization slithered into my mind like a whisper from fate itself.
I had been given a second chance.
The panic slowly dulled into something else. Something colder. Something resolute.
I wiped the tears from my face, forcing my breathing to steady. No one could know. Not yet. I had played the part of a naive, obedient girl before, and they had crushed me beneath their feet.
Not this time.
Slowly, I straightened my spine, forcing my trembling hands to still. My voice, when I spoke, was steady. Cold.
"I'm awake."
---
I walked into the dining room with my head high, my heart still racing, but my expression carefully composed.
Regina sat at the head of the table, draped in a burgundy silk robe, her raven-black hair twisted into a perfect updo. Her green eyes flickered toward me, disinterest plain on her face.
"You're late," she said coolly. "I thought you'd try harder to be presentable on your big day."
My grip tightened on the back of the chair, but I didn't look away.
"And yet, I'm still the one graduating today. Not you."
The room went dead silent.
Regina's stirring spoon clinked against her cup, pausing mid-motion. Estella, lounging beside her in an extravagant red dress, raised a perfectly arched brow, eyes glinting with amusement.
Laura, ever the picture of innocence, blinked at me with wide brown eyes, her chestnut hair cascading over one shoulder. "Lia, are you okay?" she asked gently, reaching across the table as if to touch my hand. "You don't sound like yourself."
I looked at her. The sister who had whispered lies into my ears while poisoning me. The one who had smiled as she stole everything that should have been mine.
I smiled back. "Maybe I finally am myself."
Regina leaned back in her chair, her sharp green eyes narrowing. "Watch your tone, girl," she said, her voice like ice. "You know what happens when ungrateful little brats overstep."
Estella smirked, tapping her manicured nails against her glass. "I have to say, this is… new. Did you hit your head, little sister?" Her honey-blonde curls bounced as she tilted her head, studying me like I was an animal in a cage. "You've always been such a good, quiet girl."
That's what you all liked, wasn't it? A quiet, obedient Lia. A girl too naive to see the knives pressed against her throat.
I picked up my fork and twirled it between my fingers, my smile unwavering. "Good girls don't get very far in this house, do they?"
Regina's lips pressed into a thin line. Estella's smirk faltered, just for a second. Laura shifted in her seat, her delicate fingers curling into her lap.
For the first time, I had surprised them. Shaken them.
And that was just the beginning.
I took a slow bite of toast, holding Regina's gaze as I chewed. Let them wonder. Let them question. Because by the time I was done, they would all fear me.