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Backstage at the awards ceremony, Tiffany Shaw walked onto the stage wearing my ID badge. My mother pressed down on my bandaged wrist and whispered, "Nancy, Tiffany has a heart problem. It's just an award. Don't make a scene." Her fingernails pressed hard against my wound through the gauze, and the pain blurred my vision. In my previous life, she had said the exact same words. And I had listened. Then Tiffany took the stage with my algorithm model, and Jason Carter announced his investment in front of the entire audience. Her name was instantly all over the news. Three months later, the lab equipment malfunctioned. Tiffany altered the logs and pinned the blame on me. My advisor stayed silent. My parents called me jealous. And Jason called off our engagement. I jumped from the rooftop of the lab building, the ID badge that Tiffany had taken clipped to my wrist. When I opened my eyes again, I was back, just ten minutes before the awards ceremony.