Chapter 2

When I opened my eyes again, the sting of disinfectant burned my nose, and the faint chatter of nurses reached my ears. "She lost a lot of blood when she was brought in, but thankfully it missed any vital spots." "Did you hear? The Mr. Sullivan and the Croft family's eldest daughter were in a hotel room..." "Of course. And it was the Croft second young miss who caught them. Heard all hell broke loose on the spot..." Mr. Sullivan? Croft family's eldest daughter? I sat up abruptly, the IV needle tearing from the back of my hand, bringing forth a string of blood droplets. The digital calendar on the bedside table showed the date. This was the year I was twenty, the beginning of my entanglement with Liam Sullivan. The hotel room carpet was thick, feeling like sinking into cotton when stepped on. Leaning on the wall, I made my way to the bathroom. The mirror reflected a pale, youthful face, with still-childish plumpness at the corners of the eyes. Water gushed from the tap. I scooped up cold water and splashed it on my face, the piercing cold clearing my muddled mind. I had been reborn, returned to the night Violet Croft had orchestrated. In my previous life, on this very day, I drank for a drunken Liam Sullivan, and Violet drugged my glass. Later, in the hotel room, drugged and affected, I tangled with an equally drugged Liam Sullivan, just in time for Violet, who had brought the Sullivan elders to "catch us in the act," to burst in. This life, looking at the still-clear eyes in the mirror, I dug my fingernails hard into my palms. Owe? Why should my life, Wendy Croft's life, be used to repay someone else's ambitions? The door lock clicked softly. I turned around just as Liam Sullivan, supporting himself on the doorframe, entered. The top two buttons of his shirt were undone, his Adam's apple bobbed, his gaze unfocused—clearly, the drugs were taking effect. "Wendy Croft?" His voice was hoarse, heavy with drink. "What are you doing here?" I didn't speak. I grabbed the glass ashtray from the bathroom counter and hurled it at him. The ashtray whizzed past his ear and shattered against the wall. The sudden noise startled him stiff, the haze in his eyes dissipating slightly. "Are you insane?" He frowned, stepping closer step by step. The scent of cedar on him, mixed with alcohol, washed over me, overlapping with the scorched smell of the fire from my memory, burning my heart. I retreated, groping behind me for the bedside table, my fingertips touching something cold and metal. A fruit knife, probably forgotten by the staff. I gripped the handle, pointing the tip at myself. "Stop right there." My voice trembled badly, but I stared straight into his eyes. "Liam Sullivan, look clearly. I am Wendy Croft, not Violet Croft." He indeed stopped, a flicker of confusion in his eyes. This was the twenty-year-old Liam Sullivan, not yet the man who would later sneer at me, who would shield Violet behind him. To him, I might still hold some vague goodwill as "his little sister's older sister." Hurried footsteps sounded in the hallway, mixed with Violet's deliberately amplified sobs: "Liam! Are you in there? I was so worried..." They were here. I took a deep breath. The moment the door was pushed open, I plunged the fruit knife into my own arm. As the sharp pain exploded, I heard Violet's scream. She was wearing that pearl-white dress I gave her, followed by Old Madam Sullivan and my parents—clearly replicating the scene from my previous life. But the triumph on her face froze before it could fully form, stiffening the moment she saw the blood on my arm. "Wendy!" She rushed over, trying to grab my knife, but I sidestepped, the blade tearing her sleeve. "Violet," I smiled, the taste of blood spreading on my tongue, "Did you bring all these people to watch me get ruined by you with your own eyes?" "No, it's not like that, Liam," Violet's tears came on cue, "I just heard you were drunk, I was afraid something happened to you..." "Madam Sullivan," I looked at the old woman who had beaten me with her cane in my past life, and said word by word, "What happened today was an accident. I shouldn't have been alone with Young Master Sullivan. But I, Wendy Croft, swear to god, Liam Sullivan and I are innocent." Violet's face paled, then paled again. The plan she’d worked so hard to make a done deal was ruined by my one stroke.