Chapter 1

The day I woke up back in my senior year of high school, Roman Pierce was standing at the classroom door.

Using the exact same tone from my previous life, he leaned in and whispered, "Darla, Jolene wants me to help her cheat on the SATs."

In my previous life, I had grabbed his arm and begged him not to, warning him he'd go to prison.

He listened, became the valedictorian, married me, and then left me to rot on the floor while I was in labor, watching me die in agony.

"You deserve this," he'd told me. "You're the one who stole Jolene's life."

This time, I just glanced at him and said, "Okay." Then I turned and walked away.

He thought I was just being moody. He expected me to do what I always did—make his decisions, take the fall for his mistakes, and carry the weight of his consequences.

He had no idea that this time, I only wanted to be a spectator.

I wanted to watch him destroy himself.

*****

The moment I woke up back in time, I was sitting in my AP Calculus class. It was late April, and the air outside was thick with floating cottonwood fluff.

Sunlight streamed through the window, cutting a bright glare across my test paper.

My lower abdomen still felt the ghost of that searing pain.

It wasn't just a cramp; it was the feeling of a dull knife carving through my insides during an acute appendicitis flare-up.

I had been curled on the floor, my pajamas soaked in cold sweat, while Roman sat on the sofa. He was sipping coffee, looking at me like I was a stranger.

"You deserve this," he'd said. His voice was quiet, but every word hit me with perfect clarity. "If you hadn't stopped me back then, Jolene would have been the one at Columia University with me. You stole her life. This is your debt."

I couldn't even scream. He had taken my phone and cut the landline. I just stared at him, the man I had loved for two lifetimes, until the world went black.

Two lives lost in one body.

Those four words hit me like a ton of bricks.

"Darla? Darla Higgins!"

My friend, Angie Morales, jabbed me with her elbow, yanking me out of that dark place.

I snapped my head up. The classroom felt jarringly real. The whiteboard was marked with "42 Days Until Graduation."

Our calculus teacher was breaking down a final exam problem, the guys in the front were whispering, and someone in the back was fast asleep.

Forty-two days.

I had forty-two days left.

"Are you okay?" Angie whispered, leaning in close. "You're white as a sheet. Did you skip breakfast again?"

I shook my head. Before I could find my voice, I caught a glimpse of him.

Roman was leaning against the back door.

He had his varsity jacket sleeves pushed up and a thermos in his hand, peering into the room.

The sunlight hit his face, softening the sharp edges of his jawline. Valedictorian, star point guard, charming, and brilliant. He was always the main character.

In my previous life, I was obsessed with that face.

Now, I just felt sick.

He waved at me with that signature smile, the one that was perfectly polite but carried a hint of arrogance. "Darla, come out here for a second."

I didn't move. I just stared at him.

In my previous life, he had stood in that exact spot and called my name in that exact tone. I had practically tripped over myself to get to him.

I had listened to him say, "Jolene wants me to help her cheat on the SATs," and I had panicked.

I went on a whole rant about how cheating was a federal crime and how he shouldn't throw away an Ivy League future for someone who didn't matter.

He listened. He played the part of the good guy. Later, every time he got drunk, he'd hold me and whisper, "Thank you, Darla. If you hadn't stopped me back then..."

Then he dragged me off the bed and left me to die on the floor.

I stood up and walked to the door.

Roman looked at me with an expectation I knew all too well.

He was waiting for me to get anxious, waiting for me to grab his arm and worry about him.

"Darla," he said, lowering his voice as if he were sharing a massive secret. "Jolene Cobb wants me to help her cheat on the SATs."