I woke up gasping. My hands flew to my right side. My fingers met smooth, warm skin. There was no jagged scar. No agonizing, hollow ache tearing through my abdomen.

A translucent blue screen hovered in the air above my bed.

*SYSTEM INITIALIZED. TIMELINE RESET.*

I stared at the glowing text, my heart hammering against my ribs. I wasn't dead. I wasn't rotting in that freezing, sterile hospital room while my boyfriend and my twin sister celebrated their secret love. I was back in my Manhattan apartment. Seven years of lies and manipulation had just been erased.

The doorbell buzzed, sharp and loud.

I walked to the door on trembling legs. When I pulled it open, Everett stood there. He looked perfect. His dark hair was meticulously swept back, and he smelled of expensive cedar and mint. My boyfriend of seven years. The man who had gently kissed my forehead before sending me to the slaughterhouse.

Behind him stood Jamison, our mutual friend, looking somber.

“Elaina, baby,” Everett said softly. He stepped inside and reached out to pull me into a hug.

I stiffened. A wave of nausea hit my stomach, but I let his arms wrap around me.

“I have terrible news,” he whispered against my hair. “It's Rosalie. Her kidneys are failing. The doctors say she needs a transplant immediately.”

He pulled back and looked deep into my eyes. His expression was a flawless mask of brotherly concern. “You're her twin. You're the best chance she has. We need you to take the compatibility test today.”

In my last life, I didn't hesitate. I loved my sister. I loved him. I said yes, and I signed my own death warrant.

This time, I looked at his handsome, lying face and let the phantom pain of my past life fuel my performance.

I took a sharp, jagged breath and stumbled backward. I let my hands shake violently.

“A test?” I gasped. “A hospital? Surgery?”

Everett frowned, stepping toward me. “Elaina, it's just a blood test to start—”

“No!” I shrieked. I clutched my chest and collapsed onto the edge of the velvet sofa. I forced my breathing to turn rapid and shallow. I hyperventilated, letting real tears of past trauma spill down my cheeks. “I can't! I can't do needles! I can't do hospitals! They'll cut me open!”

Jamison stepped into the foyer, his eyes wide with alarm. “Elaina, hey, breathe. It's okay.”

Everett's jaw tightened. A flash of irritation crossed his eyes before he smoothed his features into a calm, patient smile. He hated public scenes. He hated when things didn't go exactly his way.

“Elaina, be reasonable,” Everett said. His voice dropped to a low, commanding register. “This is your sister. She's dying.”

I looked up at him through my tears. “But what if I match? I'll die on that operating table, Everett! I can feel it. I know I will!” I sobbed loudly, my shoulders heaving.

Then, I lunged forward and grabbed his hands. His knuckles were rigid.

“But you,” I cried out, my voice echoing in the quiet apartment. “You are so brave, Everett.”

He blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

I squeezed his hands tightly, refusing to let him pull away. I raised my voice so Jamison could hear every single syllable. “You love my family so much. You always said you would do anything to protect us. You're the strongest, most generous man I know.”

I looked at him with wide, desperate eyes. “You take the test. Please.”

Everett froze. The color drained from his face. “Me?” he stammered, his smooth charm vanishing. “Elaina, I'm... I'm not related to her.”

“But you could still be a match!” I wailed. I clung to him like a lifeline. “People do altruistic donations all the time! And you have that noble, savior heart. Everyone knows it!”

I turned my tear-streaked face to Jamison. “Doesn't he, Jamison? Everett is always talking about doing whatever it takes for the people he loves.”

Jamison nodded slowly. He looked at Everett with deep respect. “She has a point, Ev. You're the most stand-up guy I know. It wouldn't hurt to just get a swab.”

The trap snapped shut.

I watched the micro-expressions war on Everett's face. He was boxed in. He had spent years cultivating the image of the perfect, selfless gentleman in our elite Manhattan social circle. He couldn't refuse now without looking like a massive coward in front of Jamison. And deep down, he couldn't say no to saving the woman he secretly obsessed over.

A muscle ticked in his jaw. He swallowed hard.

“I... I suppose I could get tested,” he forced out. His voice sounded hollow. “Just to rule it out.”

The blue screen flashed in my peripheral vision:

*TARGET SECURED.*

I buried my face against his chest, hiding my cold, victorious smile.

“Thank you,” I whispered into his expensive shirt. “You really are her true savior.”

The sterile smell of the hospital waiting room made my stomach churn. It smelled like bleach and old fear. It reminded me of my own death in that freezing room seven years from now. But I pushed the memory down. I sat next to Everett on the stiff vinyl chairs. Jamison stood by the window, tapping his phone.

Dr. Harrison Blake walked toward us. He held a thick manila folder. My heart did a slow, heavy thud against my ribs.

“Well,” Dr. Blake said. He stopped in front of us and looked genuinely surprised. “I have to admit, this is incredibly rare.”

Everett sat up straighter. He smoothed his expensive silk tie. “What is it, Doctor? Did we rule me out?”

“Actually, Mr. Walker,” Dr. Blake smiled warmly. “You are a perfect match for Rosalie.”

The silence in the room was deafening.

Everett froze. All the blood drained from his handsome face. His knuckles turned stark white as he gripped the armrests. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. “A... a perfect match?”

“Yes,” Dr. Blake nodded. “It’s practically a miracle. The compatibility markers are exceptionally high.”

Everett looked sick. He tugged at his collar like it was choking him. “But... the odds. Are you sure? Maybe we should run the bloodwork again.” He let out a shaky, hollow laugh. “I have that massive corporate merger next week. The board is relying on me. The recovery time for a nephrectomy...”

He was trying to back out. The great, selfless Everett Walker was terrified of a scalpel. He loved Rosalie, sure. He obsessed over her. But he loved his own perfect, healthy body more. When it came to real sacrifice, he was a coward.

I didn't let him wriggle away.

I threw my arms around his neck. I burst into loud, dramatic tears. “Oh, Everett! A miracle! It really is!”

He stiffened against me. His hands hovered in the air, rigid and unsure what to do.

I pulled back and cupped his pale cheeks. I looked deep into his panicked eyes. “You and Rosalie... you have such a destined connection. It’s like you were meant for her.”

He flinched. His eyes darted away. The words hit him right in his guilty conscience.

“Elaina, I...” he stammered. A bead of cold sweat rolled down his temple. “It's major surgery. I need time to think.”

“I know,” I cried softly. “But you’re the bravest man I know. Your true love for our family is endless. You’re her only hope, Everett. If you don't do this, she’ll die.”

I made sure my voice echoed down the hall. Jamison walked over, shaking his head in pure awe.

“Man, this is unbelievable,” Jamison said. He clapped Everett firmly on the shoulder. “You step up to just take a swab to calm Elaina down, and you end up being the one to save her sister's life. You’re a literal hero, Ev. Not many guys would do this.”

Everett looked at Jamison. Then he looked at the doctor, who was smiling approvingly. Finally, he looked at me. He was completely trapped. The social pressure was a vice around his neck. He couldn't say no. Not in front of his best friend. Not when his secret obsession was dying in the next wing. If he walked away now, his reputation as Manhattan's golden boy would be ruined.

His jaw clenched so tight I thought his teeth might crack.

“Okay,” Everett whispered. His voice trembled, barely louder than a breath. “I'll do it.”

“Thank you,” I sobbed, burying my face in his chest. Against his expensive shirt, my lips curled into a sharp, cold smile.

Three hours later, Everett was dressed in a faded hospital gown. He lay on a gurney outside the operating room. He looked small. The arrogant billionaire heir was gone. He was just a terrified man about to lose an organ.

“Elaina,” he reached out. His fingers were ice-cold. He gripped my hand tightly. “I'm doing this for you. Remember that.”

Liar. He was doing it because I backed him into a corner. He was doing it for her.

“I know,” I whispered. I squeezed his hand back. I gave him a teary, grateful smile. “You are my hero, Everett. See you on the other side.”

The nurses wheeled him through the heavy double doors. The doors swung shut with a soft click.

My tears vanished instantly.

I let out a long, slow breath. The heavy, anxious act dropped from my shoulders. I stood alone in the quiet corridor. The fluorescent lights buzzed above me. I felt nothing but cold, thrilling anticipation. My chest felt light, completely free of the phantom pain that haunted my past life.

I walked over to a quiet corner and sat on a hard plastic bench. I pulled my phone from my purse.

A familiar translucent blue screen materialized over my device.

SYSTEM READY. ACCESSING TARGET DATA.

“Pull up everything,” I whispered.

The system went to work. Lines of data scrolled across my vision. I watched as it bypassed passwords and encrypted servers flawlessly. Within seconds, a new folder appeared on my home screen.

I opened it. It was a digital dossier. Hundreds of text messages between Everett and Rosalie. Time-stamped photos. Luxury hotel receipts. Late-night declarations of their twisted, secret love.

“I can’t stand seeing her with you,” Rosalie had texted him just last month.

“She’s just a placeholder, baby. You’re my true love. Soon,” Everett had replied.

I stared at the words. The old me would have shattered into a million pieces. I would have cried until I threw up. The new me just saw ammunition.

I saved the dossier to a secure cloud drive. I locked my phone and leaned back against the cold wall. Everett was under the knife right now. He was bleeding for her. He was giving her pieces of his own flesh, just like he made me do in my past life.

I crossed my legs and smiled to myself. This was just the beginning.