"Yes, you heard that correctly. Project Chronos is accomplished. This Christmas, Moonlit Tech is proud to present: The Time Button."

Andy Finch leaned back in his leather chair, spinning a pen between his fingers with the casual arrogance of a man who owned the skyline. He flashed a grin at the video screen-a grin that had closed billion-dollar deals and broken a few hearts along the way.

"It cost us two billion to convince a witch to sell us the proprietary spell work. Why a witch? Well, Mr. White, I know you hate the occult. I do too. Pointy hats, bubbling cauldrons, terrible fashion sense. But trust me, only those mystical ladies know how to rewind the cosmic clock. Finding one who wasn't already crispy from a medieval BBQ was a real treasure hunt."

Mr. White, the gruff CEO of White Enterprises, chuckled on the other end of the line. "You have a way with words, Finch."

"I try. Most of them didn't vacation well in the Middle Ages," Andy quipped, leaning forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "But with this little gizmo? One press. That's it. You hop back in time to fix a blunder. Delete a text message, unsay a stupid comment, or... well, you tell me. Got any regrets you'd like to erase?"

"I want to go back and stop my daughter from having that child with a total loser!" Mr. White bellowed, the audio crackling.

Andy winced, pulling the phone away from his ear. Family drama. Classic.

"Fantastic motivation!" Andy recovered instantly, his salesman mask never slipping. "So, if I said a cool million could fix that slip-up-stop your daughter from swooning over the gentleman in question-would you part with the cash?"

"Not just a million. I'd shell out ten," Mr. White snarled.

Ten million. You could hire a very expensive hitman for that price. But time travel was cleaner. Usually.

"Exactly!" Andy pointed the pen at the screen. "Now you're seeing the vision! We're going to clean up."

"Swell. Can we go back as far as we want?"

"Ah, the fine print," Andy waved a hand airily. "Not quite. The chronal-energy displaces exponentially. Seven years, tops. Our whiz kids are working on stretching it, but for now, seven is the magic number."

"Seven years..." Mr. White mused. "Have you tested this contraption yet?"

"It's set for beta testing the moment the board gives the nod. Don't worry, our legal eagles are ready for any-"

Knock. Knock.

Andy's spiel was cut short. He frowned. He had a strict 'unless the building is on fire, do not disturb' policy during pitches.

The door creaked open. It was Everlyn, his secretary. Usually, the woman was as poised as a statue, but today, her face was pale, her hands gripping a tablet like a lifeline.

Something was wrong.

But ditch Oliver White, the Lycan King of industry? Not a chance.

Andy muted the mic, mouthing, "Make it quick."

Everlyn didn't move. She just stared at him, her voice trembling. "Louise is dead."

The pen in Andy's hand stopped spinning.

"Come again?" Andy blinked, his charming smirk faltering for the first time. "Which Louise?"

He only knew one Louise. But his brain frantically offered alternatives. Louise from Accounting? Louise the barista? Louise, his second cousin twice removed?

"Mrs. Salinger," Everlyn clarified, bursting his bubble with the force of a sledgehammer. "David's wife. She worked here until recently. You... you remember her, right?"

Not remember her?

Fat chance. He was half-senile from caffeine and overwork, but he'd remember Louise Salinger even if he had a lobotomy.

Without a word, Andy reached out and tapped the red 'End Call' button.

Mr. Oliver White, mid-sentence about stock options, vanished into the digital void.

"That was Mr. White," Everlyn whispered, eyeing the black screen.

"I don't care if it was the Moon Goddess herself," Andy snapped, standing up. His legs felt weirdly numb. "What happened? You said she was sick. Sick people recover. They don't just... drop dead. She has a wolf for god's sake."

"It wasn't the cancer," Everlyn said, swallowing hard. "It was an accident. A few hours ago."

Andy gripped the edge of his mahogany desk, his knuckles turning white. "Explain."

"Somehow she slipped at home and hit her head on the nightstand." Everlyn looked down. "By the time the ambulance got there, she was gone."

A roar of pure, unadulterated rage erupted in Andy's chest, so hot it almost burned.

She couldn't just die like that!

He didn't say another word. He grabbed his car keys, hurdled a potted plant, and sprinted out of the office, leaving a stunned Everlyn and a ten-million-dollar contract in his wake.

Andy's hands trembled on the steering wheel like he was vibrating out of phase with reality.

Louise.

Louise with the thick glasses that constantly slid down her nose. Louise, who used to sit in the farthest corner of the university library reading "The Socio-Economic Impact of Pack Dynamics" while everyone else was partying.

The girl he had poured his soul out to in a love letter during freshman year-a letter that contained, admittedly, some very mediocre poetry involving the moon.

He remembered her response clearly. A note sent back not even by herself, "I won't accept an idiot. Leave me alone. Andy Finch."

He had taken it as a challenge.

For four years, he had stalked-coincidentally met-her at coffee shops. He convinced himself that her harsh words were just a defense mechanism. She was a Beta, he was an Alpha; she was shy, he was loud. It was a classic rom-com setup.

He remembered that Christmas party senior year. Natalie had spiked the punch. Louise, tipsy and adorable, had wandered off.

Andy had followed her, his Alpha instincts prickling. He found her cornered by three rogues near the dorms.

"What color are your panties, darling?" one of the rogues had sneered.

Louise, bless her intoxicated, logical heart, had blinked and slurred, "I... I haven't checked the label today. I forget."

The rogues had laughed, moving to grab her. "Take 'em off, we'll check for you."

Andy hadn't thought. He hadn't planned. He just broke the leader's nose and scared the other two off with a growl that shook the snow off the trees.

He carried her back to her dorm piggy-back style.

"Who are you?" she had mumbled into his neck, her breath smelling of peppermint schnapps.

"A concerned third party," he'd deflected, trying to play it cool.

"You're nice," she whispered, patting his cheek clumsily. "I'm gonna marry a hero like you someday. Not a jerk. A hero."

"I'll hold you to that," he had whispered back.

He had walked home on air. He planned to ask her out properly the next day. He was going to be her hero.

But he waited too long. He played it too cool.

Two days later, she was dating David Salinger. A safe, boring, unremarkable Beta.

Andy had been crushed. He became the "efficient hater." For ten years, he watched her from afar. When she joined his company, he mocked her to keep her at a distance, terrified that if he was nice, he'd fall in love all over again.

"Do you always fail to deliver on your promises, Mrs. Salinger?" he used to taunt her.

It was his twisted way of asking: What happened to marrying the hero?

A few months back, Louise handed in her resignation. Andy was knee-deep in a big-deal negotiation in Los Angeles, and by the time he strolled back into the office, her desk was a hauntingly empty space. He stared at it, feeling an emptiness echo in his chest. Trying to play it cool, he casually asked David where his wife had disappeared to.

David shrugged it off, mentioning something about a minor illness and the need for some rest-nothing to lose sleep over, apparently.

Andy couldn't help but wonder if he'd been too hard on her all those years. In a rare moment of sentimentality, he even splurged on a bouquet of her favorite purple tulips, planning a visit once she was back on her feet.

And now?

Now she is dead.

Andy screeched his Aston Martin to a halt outside the Salinger residence. Police lights painted the suburban street in chaotic flashes of red and blue. The policemen were chatting with David, who regretfully blamed himself for not taking good care of his wife. A coroner's van was already there.

He watched as they wheeled a body bag out of the front door.

It hit him then. The finality of it. There would be no more sarcastic banter. No more watching her push her glasses up her nose. No more purple tulips sitting in his office vase, waiting for her to return.

She was gone.

Andy slammed his hand against the steering wheel, the leather groaning under his grip.

If I could go back...

If he could go back ten years, to that night in the snow, he would have kissed her. He would have told her, "I'm Andy Finch. I'm the hero. Choose me."

But the universe had a cruel sense of humor.

His gaze fell on the prototype sitting in the passenger seat. The silver box. The Time Button.

Seven years. That was the limit.

Seven years ago, Louise was already engaged with David. She was already lost to him.

Going back seven years wouldn't give him a clean slate. It would drop him right in the middle of the mess. He would have to be the villain. He would have to be the relationship wrecker. He wouldn't leave Louise to David this time. That man didn't deserve her.

Andy looked at the body bag one last time.

Then, a dark, reckless grin-the grin of a man with nothing left to lose-spread across his face.

"Seven years," he whispered to the empty car. "Challenge accepted."

He didn't care if he had to fight David, the Moon Goddess, or fate itself.

He picked up the silver box.

"Hold on, Louise," Andy murmured, his thumb hovering over the glowing red button. "Your idiot is coming to get you."

He pressed it.

Louise gasped, her lungs filling with air that tasted distinctly like... nothing.

Wait a minute.

Do dead people breathe?

"Aren't I supposed to be dead?" Louise murmured, patting her chest. "Or did the doctors actually save me? If they did, I hope they didn't cut my shirt. It was on sale, but still."

She tried to move her legs and realized she wasn't in a hospital bed. She was floating. In a void. A very sparkly, very beige void.

"The bad news is, yes, you are definitely dead," an elegant voice chimed in, sounding like wind chimes made of diamonds. "The good news is, death is less of a full stop and more of a semicolon. Grammatically speaking."

Louise whipped her head around-relieved to find she still had a head.

Standing beside her was a woman who made supermodels look like potato sacks. She wore a robe woven from actual moonlight, and her hair flowed upward, defying gravity like a majestic silver waterfall. Her eyes held the entire cosmos, swirling with nebulae and judgment.

"Who are you?" Louise squeaked. "The Grim Reaper? You've had a makeover."

The woman chuckled, a sound that vibrated in Louise's soul. "People call me the Moon Goddess. Though, honestly, the branding has suffered lately. Teenagers these days are more into vampires."

Louise's jaw dropped.

She had prayed to the Moon Goddess every full moon since she was a pup. She always assumed it was like writing letters to Santa-therapeutic, but ultimately futile.

"Hello, Moon... uh, Your Moon-ness," Louise stammered, doing an awkward little bow while floating horizontally. "I'm a big fan. Huge. I love what you've done with the tides."

The Moon Goddess smiled, reaching out to pinch Louise's cheek. "Oh, aren't you a delightful little thing. I do apologize for the abrupt exit from your life. I admit, my oversight." Her expression shifted to a gentle scolding. "But really, child? Why did you marry that waste of carbon instead of waiting for the Fated Mate I spent decades designing for you?"

Louise winced. "To be fair, he wasn't a waste of carbon when I met him. He was more like... a recycling bin of potential. I didn't know he was a jerk."

"I gave you intuition!" The Goddess threw her hands up. "That gut feeling? That was me screaming, 'Run, girl, run!'"

"I thought that was indigestion," Louise muttered. "So, who was I supposed to marry?"

"An absolute alpha specimen," the Goddess drawled, her eyes twinkling. "Handsome, wealthy, brilliant, a bit of a drama queen, but devoted to the bone."

For a split second, Andy Finch's face-smirking, arrogant, and infuriatingly handsome-popped into Louise's mind.

No, she told herself firmly. The Goddess said "devoted," not "professional bully."

"Is it Kevin from Accounting?" Louise asked hopefully.

The Goddess gave her a withering look. "Louise, aim higher. But I can't give you a name. GDPR rules. General Divine Privacy Regulations."

"But I'm dead!" Louise protested, pouting. "Don't I get a spoiler alert?"

"If you were staying dead, sure," the Moon Goddess said, checking her nails, which were painted with literal stardust. "But you, my dear, are being sent back. You're being rebooted."

"Rebooted?" Louise blinked. "Like a computer?"

"Like a Phoenix. But less fiery, more wolf-y."

Louise clapped her hands together. "Oh! Is this because of my prayers? Did I accumulate enough loyalty points?"

"Ah..." The Goddess looked awkward, shifting her weight. "Well, I wish I could take credit. But the truth is, the werewolf population has exploded. Billions of you. My inbox is a nightmare. I haven't checked my voicemails since the 90s."

"Oh," Louise deflated. "So, I'm a glitch?"

"No, you're a beneficiary," the Moon Goddess corrected. "You aren't being reborn because of me. You're being reborn because your Fated Mate-the one you ignored-just broke about fifty laws of physics to save you."

"He... what?"

"He activated a time-reversal device," the Goddess explained casually, as if discussing a microwave. "Cost him a fortune. And likely his sanity."

"Time-reversal?" Louise frowned. She remembered a meeting at Moonlit Tech years ago. Project Chronos. She thought it was a joke.

"So, this mystery man loves me enough to turn back time?" Louise whispered, touching her heart. "How did he even know I died?"

"He's been watching you," the Moon Goddess said softly. "Always watching. Always waiting. That's all I can say."

Louise felt a pang of guilt. Whoever this man was, she had broken his heart by marrying David, and yet he had moved heaven and earth to save her.

"Now, pay attention, adorable one," the Goddess snapped her fingers. "There are Rules. The Universe hates a paradox, so we have to be careful."

"I'm listening."

"Rule Number One: You are going back seven years. No more, no less."

Louise groaned. "Seven years? I was already with David! We were engaged! Can't you send me back ten years? I'd really like to not date him at all."

"Sorry. Seven years is the limit of the spell," the Goddess shrugged. "As for the man you hate... just dump him." A mischievous, slightly wicked glint flickered in her starry eyes. "Or... don't just dump him. Don't you want revenge?"

"Revenge?" Louise blinked. "I was thinking I'd just... break up with him via text. Or maybe post a really unflattering photo of him on Facebook."

The Moon Goddess laughed, a sound like thunder wrapped in velvet. "Oh, honey. You are too kind. Let me introduce you to Rule Number Two: The Conservation of Fate."

"That sounds like math," Louise warned. "I'm bad at math."

"It means Fate is a zero-sum game," the Goddess explained, leaning in close. "Misfortune has to go somewhere. The cancer? The bad luck? The premature death? That energy has been generated. If you don't want it to hit you again, someone else has to take the hit."

Louise's eyes widened. The realization dawned on her slowly, then all at once.

"So... if I want to be healthy," Louise whispered, "someone else has to be sick?"

"Exactly," the Moon Goddess smirked. "And I think you know two people who are very deserving of some bad karma. Perhaps a cheating husband and a backstabbing sister?"

A chill ran down Louise's spine-not of fear, but of excitement. She didn't just have a second chance. She had a weapon.

"I can transfer my bad luck to them?"

"Think of it as re-gifting," the Goddess winked. "But there is a catch. Rule Number Three: No one else will remember this future. Not David, not Natalie..."

"What about my Fated Mate?" Louise asked quickly. "The one who saved me?"

The Moon Goddess's face softened with pity. "Especially him. The spell consumes the memory of the caster. He won't know he saved you. He won't know he loves you. To him, you'll just be the girl who got away."

Louise felt a heavy weight in her chest. "That's not fair. He saved me, and he won't even know it?"

"That is the price of magic, dear."

"Then I'll make him know," Louise vowed, her small hands curling into fists. "I'll find him. I'll figure out who he is, and I'll make him fall in love with me again. And I will make David and Natalie pay for every tear I cried."

"That's the spirit," the Moon Goddess beamed, looking like a proud mother. "Go get 'em, wolf."

"Wait! How do I find him?" Louise yelled as the void started to spin.

"Look for the purple tulips!" The Goddess shouted, her voice fading as she became transparent. "And Louise? Try to have some fun this time!"

"Tulips? What tulips?"

But it was too late. The Goddess snapped her fingers.

The beige void dissolved instantly. The silence was replaced by the hum of computers, the ring of telephones, and the smell of cheap office coffee.

"Louise? Earth to Louise. Did you hear what I said?"

Louise blinked, her vision blurry. She wasn't floating anymore. She was sitting in a swivel chair.

She looked up.

Standing right in front of her, holding a stack of files, was David.

He looked younger. His skin was smoother, his stomach flatter, and he wore that fake, endearing smile she used to love.

But Louise didn't see a husband.

She saw the man who stood by and watched her bleed out. She saw the foot that didn't move to help her. She felt the phantom pain of her skull cracking against the nightstand.

"Babe?" David leaned in closer, reaching out to touch her shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Terror, cold and primal, seized Louise's heart.

"AAAAHHH!"

Louise screamed-a high-pitched, blood-curdling shriek that shattered the office calm.

She scrambled backward, kicking her feet. Her swivel chair spun wildly, launching her out of it.

"Don't touch me! Don't kill me!" she yelled, her brain not yet processing the time travel, only the threat.

"Louise?!" David recoiled, dropping the files. Papers scattered everywhere like snow.

Louise didn't wait. She scrambled to her feet, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. She had to run. She had to get away from the murderer.

She spun around and bolted toward the exit, eyes wide with panic, not looking where she was going.

She rounded the corner of the cubicle row at full speed and-

WHAM.

She slammed into a wall. A very hard, very warm wall that smelled of expensive sandalwood and pine.

"Oof!" a deep male voice grunted.

The impact was catastrophic. Louise bounced off the solid chest, her feet tangling with the stranger's long legs.

Gravity took over.

They went down in a heap of limbs and fabric.

THUD.

Louise landed hard on her back, the wind knocked out of her. A heavy weight landed on top of her, pinning her to the carpet.

For a moment, the entire office went silent. You could hear a pin drop. Or a career ending.

Louise groaned, opening her eyes.

Hovering inches above her face was a pair of piercing blue eyes. They were framed by thick lashes and set in a face that was annoyingly symmetrical.

It was Andy Finch.

Her boss. The Billionaire. The Alpha.

He was hovering over her in a push-up position, his arms bracing himself on either side of her head to avoid crushing her. His tie dangled, brushing against her nose.

He didn't look amused. He looked shocked, and perhaps a little bit intrigued.

"Mrs.Salinger," Andy drawled, his voice deep and vibrating through her chest where they were pressed together. "I know the employee handbook encourages close collaboration, but I believe this is considered... aggressive tackling."

Louise lay there, paralyzed, staring up at the man she had spent years avoiding, her legs tangled with his, her heart racing for an entirely different reason now.

She had just time-traveled, screamed at her husband-no, fiancé, and tackled the CEO to the floor.

"I..." Louise squeaked, her face turning the color of a ripe tomato. "I... nice tie?"

Andy blinked, the corner of his mouth twitching. He pushed himself up with fluid, athletic grace, rising to his full height like a skyscraper unfolding. He adjusted his suit jacket, the movement sharp and precise, before reaching a hand down to her.

His hand was large, well-manicured, and steady. An anchor in the chaos.

"Ms. Salinger," he started, his voice regaining that cool, boardroom baritone. "If you wanted a performance review, an email would have sufficed."

Louise opened her mouth to apologize, to explain that she had just seen a ghost, but before she could take Andy's hand, a shadow fell over her.

"Louise!"

David.

He rushed forward from the cluster of stunned employees, pushing past a confused intern. He looked perfect-young, handsome, concerned. The very picture of a loving fiancé.

"Honey, are you okay?" David asked, thrusting his hand out to grab her arm.

The moment his fingers grazed her sleeve, instinct took over.

It wasn't the instinct of a loving partner. It was the instinct of a prey animal recognizing a predator. Louise didn't see the concerned fiancé; she saw the man who had stood over her bleeding body, calculating his insurance payout.

"No!" Louise screamed, scrambling backward on her butt like a crab, kicking her heels against the carpet. "Don't touch me! Get away!"

She curled into a ball, covering her head with her arms, trembling violently.

The gasp that went through the office was audible.

David froze, his hand hovering in mid-air, a look of utter bewilderment on his face. "Louise? It's me. It's David."

"I know who you are!" Louise choked out, peering through her fingers with wild eyes. You're a murderer. You're a gold-digger.

She had promised the Moon Goddess she would be a vengeful wolf. She had vowed to burn them to ash. But here she was, five minutes into her second life, cowering on the floor.

So much for the brave avenger, she thought bitterly. I'm an embarrassment to werewolves everywhere.

Andy frowned. His gaze darted from the terrified woman on the floor to the man reaching for her. The playful glint in his eyes vanished, replaced by a cold, hard steel.

He didn't say a word. He simply moved.

With a single, deliberate step, Andy placed himself between Louise and David.

He didn't shove David. He didn't need to. He just occupied the space, his broad shoulders creating a physical wall. He stood with his back to Louise, facing David down. The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees.

"Back off, Salinger," Andy said. His voice was low, dangerous. It wasn't a request.

David blinked, intimidated despite himself. "Mr. Finch, she's my fiancée. I'm just trying to help-"

"She said don't touch her," Andy cut him off. He didn't even look at David. He turned slightly, crouching down on one knee so he was at eye level with Louise, but still keeping his body angled to block David's approach.

"Louise?" Andy asked softly, his tone completely different from the one he used with David. It was gentle, almost... tender. "Look at me."

Louise lowered her arms slowly. She looked into those piercing blue eyes and felt a strange sense of calm wash over her. He smelled like sandalwood and pine-clean, expensive, and safe.

"Are you hurt?" Andy searched her face. "Did he hurt you?"

There was a hidden question in his eyes: Do I need to call security? Do I need to destroy him?

Louise stared at him, surprised. In her past life-her first life-Andy had always been distant, mocking. "Do you always fail to deliver on your promises, Mrs. Salinger?"

But this man? This man looked ready to tear the world apart because she was trembling.

Could he be her fated mate?

She took a deep breath, her heart rate slowly coming down from imminent cardiac arrest to mild panic attack. She realized how this looked. She was screaming at her fiancé in the office. If she claimed David was a murderer now, seven years before the crime, they'd lock her up in a padded room, not him.

She needed time. She needed a strategy. She needed to stop looking like a lunatic.

"I..." Louise swallowed, her throat dry. She grabbed Andy's offered hand. It was warm. "I'm okay. I'm fine."

Andy helped her up, his grip firm, supporting her elbow as her legs wobbled. He didn't let go immediately.

"You don't look fine," Andy noted dryly. "You look like you've seen a corpse."

I have. Mine.

"It was... a nightmare," Louise lied, the words tasting like ash. "I fell asleep at my desk. I was having a terrible nightmare, and I woke up disoriented. I didn't know where I was."

She forced a laugh. It sounded manic. "Sorry. I must have watched too many horror movies recently."

David let out a loud, performative sigh of relief. He stepped around Andy, reclaiming his territory.

"Oh, babe," David cooed, ignoring Louise's flinch as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her forcibly into his side. "You scared us half to death! A nightmare? Really? You have to stop stressing about the wedding planning."

He squeezed her tight-too tight. Louise felt nauseous. His cologne, which she used to like, now smelled like betrayal.

Andy took a step back, his hand falling to his side. His face shut down, the mask of the aloof CEO sliding back into place. But his eyes remained fixed on David's arm around Louise's waist.

"A nightmare in the middle of the workday?" Andy raised an eyebrow, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I wasn't aware Moonlit Tech was paying you to nap, Ms. Salinger. Perhaps you were up to no good last night?"

It was a dig. A challenge. Why are you so tired?

David grinned, a smug, oily thing. "Guilty as charged, boss. I just got back from my business trip yesterday evening. Louise missed me so much... well, let's just say we stayed up very late. Being affectionate."

David winked.

Louise felt her stomach turn. Liar. Last night-seven years ago-when David came back from his business, they had ordered pizza and watched TV. There was no marathon of passion. David was just posturing. He was pissing on his territory because he sensed a bigger Alpha nearby.

Andy's expression darkened instantly. His jaw clenched so hard a muscle feathered in his cheek.

"I wasn't asking you, David," Andy snapped. The venom in his voice was palpable.

The office flinched. Even David looked taken aback by the ferocity of the retort.

Andy turned his glare to the sea of heads popping up over cubicles.

"What is this? A theater production?" Andy barked. "Don't you people have code to write? Unless you all want to join Ms. Salinger in hallucinating unemployment, I suggest you get back to work."

The crowd dispersed like roaches under a kitchen light. Heads ducked, chairs swiveled, and typing resumed at a furious pace.

"And you two," Andy pointed a finger at David and Louise. "Keep the domestic drama out of my hallway. This is a billion-dollar tech company, not a soap opera."

With one last, unreadable glance at Louise, Andy spun on his heel and stormed toward his office, slamming the door shut with a definitive click.

Louise let out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

"Sheesh," David muttered, loosening his tie. "Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed. What a tyrant."

He looked down at Louise, his eyes gleaming with false concern. "Are you sure you're okay? You really freaked out."

"I'm fine," Louise said, deftly stepping out of his embrace. "Just... shaken. I need some water."

"Louise!"

A high-pitched squeal came from the direction of the breakroom.

Louise froze. She knew that voice. It was the voice that had whispered 'Goodbye, Louise' as a foot pressed down on her heart.

Natalie.

The young woman bounced over, clutching a stack of orientation papers. She looked different-younger, less polished. She was wearing a cheap off-the-rack suit instead of designer silk, and her hair was in a messy ponytail. She was currently an intern, having just been introduced to the company via Louise's referral.

"Bestie!" Natalie cried, rushing over and grabbing Louise's hands. Her grip was clammy. "I heard someone screaming! Was that you? Are you okay?"

Louise stared at her hands being held by her murderer.

A violent urge surged through her. She wanted to strangle her. Right here. She wanted to wrap her hands around Natalie's neck and squeeze until the light went out.

Calm down, Louise told herself. Rule Number One: Seven years ago.

She looked at Natalie's face. It was wide open, concerned, innocent. Or was it?

Louise realized she didn't know the timeline. Had they started sleeping together yet? Was Natalie already plotting against her, or was she still just the annoying, needy stepsister?

Louise needed intel.

"I'm okay," Louise lied, pulling her hands away slowly, wiping them on her skirt as if she had touched slime. "Just a nightmare."

"A nightmare?" Natalie's eyes widened. "In the middle of the day? Was it scary? Tell me! You know I'm into dream interpretation."

Louise looked from Natalie to David. A dark idea formed in her mind.

"It was... vivid," Louise said quietly, watching them both like a hawk. "I dreamt I was the Moon Goddess."

"Ooh, fancy," Natalie giggled.

"And a she-wolf came to me," Louise continued, her voice steadying. "She was crying. She was dying of a terrible illness. She thought her wolf was weak because of the sickness."

David checked his watch, looking bored. "Sounds depressing, babe."

"But," Louise raised her voice slightly, locking eyes with Natalie. "Later she found out her wolf wasn't weak because of the illness. It was weak because her heart was broken. It turned out... her husband was cheating on her."

David didn't flinch. He was looking at his phone.

"With who?" Natalie asked, leaning in, her eyes full of gossip-hungry glee.

"With her best friend," Louise said coldly. "The she-wolf begged me for justice. She wanted them to suffer."

Louise held her breath, waiting for a reaction. A twitch of the eye. A nervous glance between them. Guilt.

But Natalie just gasped, clutching her chest. "Oh my god! That is horrible! What a bitch!"

Natalie shook her head furiously. "That poor woman! The best friend is the worst part. Stealing your bestie's husband? That's violation of the Girl Code! She deserves to be... I don't know, shaved bald and kicked out of the pack!"

Louise blinked. Natalie's outrage seemed genuine. Or she was a Meryl Streep-level actress.

"Yeah," David chimed in, finally looking up from his phone. "Sounds like stress, Lou. You're worried about the wedding, so your brain is making up worst-case scenarios. Just anxiety. You need more sleep."

Louise looked at them. David was dismissive. Natalie was indignant on her behalf.

They haven't done it yet, Louise realized.

The affair hadn't started.

Relief washed over her, followed immediately by a wave of nausea. They were still innocent in this timeline. But the seeds were there. David's selfishness. Natalie's envy.

"So, what did you do?" Natalie asked. "As the Moon Goddess? Did you punish them?"

Louise looked at Natalie's young, eager face.

"I didn't get to finish the dream," Louise said softly. "But I agree with you, Nat. The best friend... she deserves severe punishment."

"Totally," Natalie nodded vigorously.

"I agree," Louise repeated, a small, cold smile touching her lips. "And she will get it."

"Ms. Salinger!"

The sudden bark of her name made everyone jump.

Everlyn, Mr. Finch's terrifyingly efficient secretary, was standing ten feet away, holding a tablet like a weapon.

"Mr. Finch wants to see you," Everlyn said, her face impassive. "In his office. Now."