Chapter 3

The first week after I came back to life, I was walking on eggshells.

I went out of my way to avoid anywhere I might bump into Jason.

The cafeteria he always ate at? I stopped going there and started eating at the one farthest from my dorm.

The tree-lined path he liked to walk? I took the long way around, if it meant an extra ten minutes.

I bugged the academic office until they let me switch to a different class for the public course he'd picked.

My roommates thought I was acting weird.

"Emily, why do you always take the long way around? Isn't it too far?" asked a girl with a round face.

Her name was Nina Cox, my roommate from my previous life. She was really nice, but after I started hanging out with Sophie, I gradually drifted away from her.

"I'm trying to lose weight," I said with a smile. "Walking more is good for my health."

Nina gave me a skeptical look. "You're only 99 lbs. What do you need to lose weight for?"

I didn't explain. I grabbed my backpack and headed out the door.

There was another reason. I didn't want to get close to anyone at this point in my life.

My previous life taught me that the first semester of freshman year was the biggest turning point. That was when I met Sophie, and through her, Jason. That was when I started down a road I could never turn back from.

So, this time, I didn't want to make any new friends. I wanted to be invisible and keep to myself. But there were some things in this world I couldn't avoid, no matter how hard I tried.

On a Wednesday during the second week of school, I was studying in the library when someone sat down across from me.

I didn't look up, but I caught that familiar scent of tobacco.

My heart clenched in an instant.

I slowly looked up and saw Jason.

He was sitting across from me, a macroeconomics textbook open in front of him. He was making notes in the book with a pen. He was looking down, his eyelashes casting a faint shadow on his face.

Jason was undeniably handsome. He had sharp brows, perfect eyes, a straight nose, and a jawline so chiseled it looked as if it were cut from stone.

He had this cool, distant vibe, like a frozen lake in the dead of winter. People felt drawn to him, but something held them back.

But this time, I didn't want to get close to him.

I lowered my head, quickly shoved my books and notebook into my backpack, and stood up. The chair screeched loudly.

Jason looked up at me.

For a split second, our eyes met. I saw him squint, as if he were trying to remember who I was.

Then he said, "Are you the one who dropped your card the other day?"

I didn't say anything, nodded, and walked away.

"Wait," Jason called out from behind me. "Why are you rushing off?"

I paused, glanced back at him, and tried to keep my voice calm. "I'm not rushing off. I have something to take care of, so I'm heading out."

With that, I walked out of the library without looking back.

Once I was outside, I realized my back was drenched in sweat.

It wasn't because I was nervous. It was that bone-deep fear. My body was more honest than my mind. It remembered Jason, the knife, the blood, and that icy marble floor.

I leaned against the wall outside the library, closed my eyes, and took several deep breaths.

I told myself to stay calm. It was fine.

The library was a public space. Anyone could show up here. He happened to sit across from me; it was a coincidence.

I told myself that.

After that day, things started to feel off.

I kept running into Jason everywhere: in the cafeteria, on the sports field, in the hallway of the academic building... No matter where I went, there he was.

Even at the campus convenience store, when I was buying a bottle of water, he'd be right there at the register.

Every time I spotted him, I'd immediately turn on my heel and get out of there, not giving him a second to start a conversation.

By the fourth or fifth time, I started to think this wasn't a coincidence.

Our school was massive, with over five thousand freshmen and about 500 acres of campus. There was no way two people could run into each other this often in a week unless someone was making it happen.

A terrifying thought crept into my mind. Was Jason actually watching me? No way.

In my previous life, I was the one chasing after him. I shamelessly pursued him for three years before he finally, reluctantly agreed to be with me.

From beginning to end, he was always the passive one, always out of reach, only tossing me a bit of affection when he felt like it.

He'd never pay attention to me on his own. I thought I must be overthinking this. But reality slapped me in the face before I could finish that thought.

That night, on my way back to the dorm from the study room, I got stopped on the narrow path behind the school.

It wasn't Jason.

It was three thugs, clearly not from campus, and they absolutely reeked of alcohol.

"Hey there, out here all alone this late?" the leader grinned, cigarette dangling from his lips as he leaned in. "Why don't you join us for a drink?"

I took a step back, quietly reaching into my pocket for my phone.

Just then, a hand reached out from behind me, locked around my wrist, and pulled me behind his back, shielding me.

I caught a whiff of that familiar tobacco scent. It was Jason.

He seemed to materialize out of nowhere, blocking me like a wall. He towered over those punks, his gaze icy and intimidating as he looked down at them.

"Get lost," Jason said, his voice quiet but sharp. It carried an authority one couldn't ignore.

The punks glanced at each other, sizing Jason up. He looked like trouble, not someone they'd want to mess with. Muttering curses under their breath, they backed off and left.