Chapter 3

I smiled, stood up, and said, "I should head out too."

Giovanni shot me a glance. "Then you go ahead. I'll give her a ride."

"Okay," I replied.

He paused for a second, clearly not expecting me to agree so quickly.

I didn't bother explaining. I just grabbed my bag and walked out.

On my way out, I paused and looked back.

Freya was smiling sweetly at Giovanni, and he was staring right back at her. There was a spark in his eyes that hadn't been there before.

I turned away and headed out the door.

The wind outside was biting, stinging my face with its chill.

I stood on the side of the road for a minute.

Then I hopped into a taxi.

"Take me to the mountain road," I told the driver.

He shot me a look in the rearview mirror. "The mountain road? What are you doing heading out there in the middle of the night?"

"Just sightseeing," I replied.

He let it go.

Forty minutes later, the taxi pulled up at the entrance to the mountain road. I paid the fare and got out.

Standing by the roadside, I stared at the winding mountain road.

This was the road.

In my previous life, this was where Giovanni lost control, and where I grabbed his hand, desperately trying to pull him back.

But this time, I heard the sound of a car engine in the distance.

I took a few steps back and hid in the bushes by the roadside.

A black sports car raced up the mountain road from below, its headlights glaring.

I recognized it instantly. It was Giovanni's car.

Giovanni and Freya were joking around, laughing together. She was snuggled up against his shoulder.

I watched as the car zoomed by, going faster and faster as it took the curve up ahead.

And then, the crash echoed through the night—tires screeched, metal smashed—and then, nothing.

There was just a silence so heavy it felt like the world stopped breathing.

I just stood there, not moving an inch.

The wind swept over from the mountain, carrying the burnt, acrid smell of the wreck.

My legs were shaking, my hands too.

I didn't take a single step forward.

After what felt like forever, I turned and started walking back down the mountain road.

About twenty minutes later, I spotted a car heading up the mountain. I waved it down, and it stopped.

"Hey, miss, what are you doing out here all alone so late?" the driver asked.

"My car broke down. Can you give me a ride?" I said.

The driver was a middle-aged man. He looked me over briefly and then nodded.

Once I got in, I told him my address, settled into the seat, and closed my eyes.

The sound of that crash kept replaying in my head.

I didn't save Giovanni.

I really didn't save him.

It was nearly 2 a.m. when I finally made it home.

I took a shower, lay down in bed, and stared at the ceiling.

I thought I wouldn't be able to sleep.

But before long, I drifted off.

The next morning, I was jolted awake by a frantic knocking at the door.

It was urgent and insistent.

I opened the door.

I saw someone standing outside.

It was Giovanni.

He stood there in front of me, looking a little pale and messy, but not a scratch on him.

I froze, completely shocked.

"Savannah, where did you go last night? I was looking for you all night," Giovanni said.

My mind went totally blank.

He was not dead?

So who actually went over the edge?

I just stood there in the doorway, staring at him, completely speechless.

He waved his hand in front of my face. "Savannah? What's wrong?"

I snapped out of it and took a step back.

"Are you... okay? Nothing happened last night?" I asked.

He said, "Yeah, I'm fine. I drove Freya home, but the tire blew out on the way. I spent half the night dealing with it and didn't get back until after midnight. I kept calling you, but your phone was off. I thought something might've happened to you."

A flat tire?

Didn't they fall off the cliff?

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

Giovanni looked past me into the apartment. "Can I come in?"

I stepped aside to let him in.

He sat down on the couch, and I poured him a glass of water.

He took the glass, took a sip, and looked at me. "Savannah, are you hiding something from me?"

I sat down and looked at him.

His face was exactly the same as in my previous life—the same eyes, the same nose, and the same curve to his smile.

But he was the one who ruined my hand, stabbed me in the back, and in the end, tried to murder me.

I took a deep breath.

"So, what happened on the way when you were driving Freya home last night?" I asked.

He said, "Nothing really. We were driving along, then out of nowhere, the tire blew. It scared me. Good thing I wasn't speeding, or we could've gone right over the edge."

Gone over the edge.

He brushed it off, acting like it was no big deal.

In my previous life, he was the one who drove us right off that cliff.

So this time, a blown tire kept him from crashing?

I didn't know if I should believe him or not.