Sia stared blankly as she tried to understand what was happening. The long, dawdling darkness slowly dwindled. Sounds of chatter and light laughter drifted through the atmosphere.

If her memories were correct, this was the same day Adams had proposed to her in her past life. Wait. Was her last wish for a second chance granted, or was she not dead at all? She was confused, but she tried to compose herself.

Fairy lights glittered overhead, swaying softly in the warm evening breeze. The laughter and murmured conversations of guests rose and fell like a distant tide. Musicians played a gentle melody, something elegant and romantic, the kind someone planning a perfect proposal would choose.

The scenery was beautiful.

It had been beautiful the first time too.

But the woman standing in the center of it all was not the same.

Sia's fingers rested lightly against the skirt of her pale pink dress, the same dress Nicole had chosen for her years ago. She remembered how excited she had been to wear it then. How she had twirled in front of the mirror like a girl tasting happiness for the first time. How her heart had fluttered at the thought of belonging to someone.

Now, her heart was still.

Her face remained gentle and composed, exactly as everyone remembered her to be. Soft, warm, loving. But her eyes saw everything differently.

She saw the insincerity behind the guests' smiles. The envy. The assumptions. The shallow admiration for a romance they believed was pure. She saw how easily illusions could fool a crowd. How fast love can be used to blind someone.

She saw Nicole.

Nicole stood to her right, beautiful as always, her deep red dress hugging her curves. Her long hair curled softly, her makeup immaculate. She looked like the perfect friend, joyful and supportive, beaming with happiness for Sia.

The perfect friend.

The perfect liar.

Nicole's smile was bright, but Sia noticed the tension in the corners of her lips, the slight stiffening of her jaw, the faint glimmer of something sharp in her eyes. She was watching closely, too closely, waiting to measure Sia's reaction, as if she had something to lose if today did not go the way she expected.

And then there was him.

Adam Smith stepped forward from the crowd, pretending to be shy under everyone's attention. He was dressed in a simple black suit, tailored well enough to look respectable but not expensive. His hair was neatly styled, his expression gentle and humble. To everyone around them, he looked like a man deeply in love, a man who had found a rare treasure in Sia.

People adored him for it.

A man with nothing offering his heart to a woman with everything. It sounded romantic.

In her first life, Sia had believed the same thing.

Now, she saw what was beneath the softness. Resentment. Laziness disguised as helplessness. Need disguised as love. The desire to be taken care of. The entitlement to be forgiven, every time, for everything.

Adams had never wanted to build a life.

He wanted to be carried through one.

But no one else could see that.

Only her.

He approached with slow, calculated steps, drawing out the moment to create suspense. Gasps and giggles fluttered among the crowd. Someone whispered, "He is finally going to do it." Another said, "Lucky girl." Someone sighed dreamily.

Lucky.

Sia almost laughed.

He reached her and paused, pretending to steady himself, as though overwhelmed by emotion. Then he lowered himself onto one knee. The musicians shifted into a more romantic tune, the lights dimmed slightly, and more cameras rose into the air to capture the perfect memory.

"Sia," he began, his voice soft and trembling in the way she once found endearing, "you have been with me through everything. You believed in me when no one else did. I may not have much now, but I promise never to hurt you, never to disappoint you. I promise to always stand by you and to always love you, and I will work hard to give you the life you deserve. So please complete my joy by accepting to marry me."

The velvet box opened.

The ring inside sparkled.

Gasps rippled through the garden like wind through leaves.

In her first life, tears had spilled down her cheeks. Her hands had flown to her mouth. She had nodded so hard she almost could not breathe. She had believed every word. She had offered her heart willingly. She had stepped forward into the future with nothing but faith.

This time, she simply looked.

She did not see a future.

She saw the end.

She saw herself working late into the night while Adams slept, or drank, or laughed. She saw her youth melt away in quiet sacrifice. She saw her joy slowly fading under the weight of carrying someone who never intended to walk on his own. She saw Nicole, always close, always smiling, always circling the things that belonged to her.

And finally, she saw the road.

The headlights.

The impact.

The cold, sharp silence of death.

All of it, so clear, so vivid, so cruel.

Her last memory had been begging for another chance.

And she had been given one.

She drew a slow breath, letting it fill her lungs, steadying her pulse. The garden blurred slightly as she lifted her gaze, not from emotion but from clarity so sharp it almost stung.

She turned her eyes to Nicole first.

Nicole smiled wider, encouraging her, expecting her to cry, to tremble, to cling to love like a lifeline.

Sia's lips curved.

Soft. Gentle. Beautiful.

But behind the softness, something ancient and cold awakened.

"Yes," Sia said, her voice smooth and steady. "I will marry you."

Applause exploded around them like fireworks.

Guests cheered. Cameras flashed. Music swelled.

Adams exhaled in relief, rising to his feet and sliding the ring onto her finger. He pulled her into his arms, and she let him, her body warm, her posture soft, her head resting lightly against his shoulder.

But her eyes were open.

Watching. Calculating.

And when Nicole rushed forward to embrace her next, Sia returned the hug, lightly and gracefully, her hand resting on Nicole's back.

A gentle touch.

A harmless gesture.

But inside, her voice whispered like a vow cut from steel.

Last time, you took everything from me.

This time, I will take everything back.

Slowly.

Thoroughly.

And beautifully.

Sia smiled, radiant and unshakable, exactly the woman everyone thought she was.

But her heart was no longer warm.

It was awake.

The engagement celebration continued into the evening. The garden was filled with the glow of fairy lights and the hum of conversation, laughter spilling like champagne. People toasted to love, to future happiness, to the promise of eternity.

Sia sat beside Adams at the head table, her hands folded neatly in her lap, her posture elegant. She played her part beautifully, the gentle bride to be, the devoted partner. Her smile was warm enough to charm, soft enough to lower suspicion, and distant enough to hide everything.

Adams did not notice, of course.

He was too busy basking in congratulations, accepting handshakes, slaps on his back, and compliments on what a good woman he had found.

As if she were a prize he somehow earned.

Nicole hovered nearby, laughing too loudly, drinking too quickly, and touching Adams' arm a moment too long every time she leaned in. No one noticed it. Because no one wanted to.

Sia watched them, calm and still.

She did not need to rush.

Revenge, if done correctly, was art, not violence.

While Adams bragged about how he would become a successful businessman soon, Sia lifted her champagne glass and took a slow sip. The bubbles fizzed at her lips, sweet and cold, almost playful, a sharp contrast to the quiet storm in her chest.

"So, you have agreed to marry him?" a lazy voice drawled from her left.

Sia did not react at first. She lowered her glass and turned her head slightly.

A man sat in the seat beside her, appearing as if he had been watching and waiting for the right moment.

He was striking. That was the first thing.

Tall, with a lean and effortless elegance. His suit was deep charcoal, tailored so perfectly it looked like it belonged to him more than his skin did. His hair was dark, his features sharp in a way that could be cruel, but softened by the faint, amused curve of his lips.

His eyes, dark and intelligent, watched her with the kind of interest a predator gives a creature he has never seen before.

Not hunger.

Recognition.

As if he saw something in her that others could not.

Sia met his gaze without blinking. "It seems I have."

"Mm." He leaned back into his chair, crossing one long leg over the other. "Congratulations, then."

The tone was pleasant.

The meaning was not.

Sia tilted her head. "You do not sound particularly convinced."

"Oh, I am convinced," he said lightly. "I am just wondering how long the performance will last."

Her grip on her glass remained steady. No flicker of expression. No change in breath.

But her heart paused for half a beat.

Who was he?

He smiled, slow, knowing, and dangerous.

"Relax," he murmured. "I am not here to ruin anything. I just enjoy watching people lie with perfect grace."

His words brushed her like a blade hidden in silk.

She answered with equal softness. "And I enjoy watching people notice what others overlook. It is rare."

His smile widened, just enough to show he was entertained.

"Leon Dalton," he introduced himself, offering a hand.

Ah.

So this was him.

In her past life, she had heard his name only in fragments. Whispered news articles, fleeting conversations, business rumors. A man who rose quickly, ruthlessly, mysteriously. A man who played with corporations like chess pieces. A man whose alliances were temporary and whose loyalty was rumored to belong to no one.

He was a storm disguised as a breeze.

Sia accepted his hand.

"Sia."

"Sia," he repeated slowly, tasting the name. "Pretty."

Nicole's voice cut through the moment.

"Sia." She rushed toward the table, smiling too brightly, her gaze flicking briefly and sharply to Leon. "You are not bothering her, are you?"

Leon did not even look at Nicole.

He continued watching Sia.

Which only made Nicole's smile tighten.

"Oh, do not worry." Sia's tone was gentle. "Mr. Dalton was just being polite."

Nicole's eyebrows twitched, the smallest crack in her expression.

"You know each other?" she asked.

"No," Sia answered.

"Yes," Leon said at the same time.

Nicole froze.

Leon finally turned his head, his eyes sweeping over Nicole like she was nothing more than background detail.

"We have met," he said smoothly. "Just now."

Nicole laughed, high and awkward. "Oh. Right. Well. Sia, Adams is looking for you."

Sia set her glass down and rose gracefully. "Then I should go."

But she paused.

Just for a moment.

And looked at Leon.

His eyes held hers, dark, steady, unreadable.

But there was no misunderstanding the message there:

I see you.

Not the mask.

Not the act.

You.

A small, controlled breath left her lips.

"Enjoy the party, Mr. Dalton."

He tilted his glass slightly. "You too, Miss Moore."

She walked away, not hurried, not shaken, not flustered.

But awakening.

Nicole followed quickly, grabbing her arm the moment they were out of view.

"Sia," she whispered urgently, "you should not talk to him. Leon Dalton is not someone people like us get involved with. He is dangerous. Arrogant. Manipulative. He ruins people. He-"

Sia turned her head slowly.

Her eyes were calm.

Too calm.

"Do not worry," she said softly. "I know exactly who I should be careful of."

Nicole smiled and nodded.

Sia smiled too, sweet and harmless.

And walked back into the celebration, into the arms of the man who would one day let her die.

But now, her pulse was steady.

Her steps were sure.

Her heart was made of iron and dawn.

Sia felt the world shifting.

Not back.

But forward.

The night had finally settled when Sia returned to her apartment.

Moonlight draped itself across the living room floor, pale and silent, touching familiar objects that no longer felt the same. The sofa where she had once laughed. The small framed photo of her and Nicole, arms linked and smiling too brightly. The chipped mug she used on mornings after long nights of comforting Adams.

Life looked unchanged.

But she had changed.

She closed the door quietly behind her, the click soft but final.

She placed her engagement ring box on the coffee table. Not with hatred. Not with sentiment. Just setting down a piece of a puzzle she already knew the ending to.

She was reaching for the light switch when a knock sounded.

Soft.

Friendly.

Practiced.

Sia allowed herself one slow exhale.

Nicole.

Only someone who felt entitled to her presence would come unannounced at this hour.

Sia opened the door.

Nicole stood there, arms full of two paper bags of snacks, a warm bright smile on her face. Too warm, too bright, almost frantic beneath the surface.

"Sia. I thought we could have a sleepover. Like old times." She laughed lightly, stepping inside without waiting for permission.

Sia closed the door behind her. "It is late."

Nicole giggled. "I know, but you always get emotional after big things. I just wanted to be here for you." She placed the bags onto the kitchen counter and unpacked them. Chips, chocolate, strawberry milk, and the cheap instant ramen Sia used to live on in college.

Nicole remembered every detail.

That was the problem.

"I just wanted to spend time with my best friend," Nicole said, turning with a gentle smile.

In their past life, Sia would have melted.

She would have hugged her and thanked her.

Let herself believe she was loved.

But that was before she died.

Sia's smile appeared, quiet and polite. "That is thoughtful. Thank you."

Nicole relaxed, as if she had been waiting for warmth.

She did not get it.

They settled on the couch, bowls of ramen steaming between them. The air smelled of broth and nostalgia. Nicole slurped her noodles loudly, humming in satisfaction.

"Sia, do you remember the second year?" Nicole leaned her head against the couch. "We stayed up all night before exams, crying and swearing we would run away if we failed."

Sia took one careful bite. "I remember."

"You cried the most," Nicole teased.

"Yes," Sia said softly. "I did."

Nicole laughed, but something was jittering in her eyes. Something restless, searching, uncertain.

"I saw you talking with Leon Dalton today," Nicole said casually.

There it was.

The real reason she was here.

Sia did not look surprised. "Yes. He introduced himself."

Nicole leaned in. "Sia, he is not someone you want to know. He is cold. Dangerous. He uses people. I do not want him to hurt you."

Her voice sounded sincerely worried.

But sincerity, from Nicole, was simply a performance she had perfected.

Sia stirred her ramen gently. "Then I will be careful."

Nicole blinked. That was not the answer she expected.

Usually, Sia would nod obediently. Trust her. Let Nicole lead.

Tonight, the script was wrong.

Nicole tried again, adjusting her tone. Softer. Closer. Almost pleading.

"You know I care about you, right? You are my sister. I want to protect you."

Sia raised her eyes slowly.

Her gaze was calm.

Completely calm.

"How sweet of you," Sia replied.

Nicole's breath hitched.

Because the words were too polite.

Too smooth.

Too distance measured.

They did not land.

Nicole smiled again, smaller and tighter, then changed tactics.

"So, how does it feel?" she asked. "Being engaged?"

Her voice was light, but her fingers clenched the ramen cup too hard.

Sia set her bowl down carefully. "Like a promise."

Nicole waited, expecting more.

She did not get any more.

Nicole forced another smile, but cracks appeared. "Sia... are you nervous? Scared? Unsure? You know you can tell me anything."

Sia looked at her. Truly looked.

Nicole had always been beautiful, effortlessly so. Soft waves of hair, delicate lashes, and gentle expressions that won trust easily. A girl who looked like she could never harm anyone.

But Sia had seen her at her worst.

Sia had seen her laughing when Sia's body still lay warm from death.

Sia had heard her whisper to Adams, "She was too easy."

Sia smiled.

"Thank you for worrying about me. But I am fine."

Nicole stared.

The warmth she always expected to receive was simply not there. No shared heartbeat. No emotional tie to tug. No place to bury guilt or manipulation.

Sia's heart had closed.

Nicole's voice turned soft, whisper-soft. "Did... I do something?"

Sia paused, just for a moment, enough to make Nicole feel the weight of silence.

"No," Sia answered gently. "Except there is something you are not telling me."

Nicole's face trembled, just a flicker of fear, jealousy, and confusion all mixed into something sharp and ugly under the skin.

"Something I am not telling you?" Nicole asked.

"Yes," Sia said.

Nicole swallowed hard.

The sound was loud in the quiet living room.

"We have been friends for years now. We are more like sisters, so I cannot hide anything from you," she said, almost stubborn, almost desperate.

Sia nodded. "I know."

Nicole felt the dismissal but did not know how to respond to it.

When they finished eating, Sia suggested they sleep.

Nicole lay beside her in the dark, the same bed they had shared countless times before.

But this time there was no laughter. No whispers. No shared dreams.

Only silence.

Nicole turned her head toward Sia.

"Sia?"

"Hm?"

"Promise me we will always be like this."

Sia looked at the ceiling, watching moonlight slice shadows across the room.

"We will always be what we are meant to be," she answered.

Nicole did not understand.

But the night did.

And so did Sia.

She closed her eyes. Not to sleep, but to plan.

The game had begun.