Pain. That was the first thing she felt. A throbbing, pulsing ache behind her eyes that made her stomach turn. Her body felt heavy, like it was made of lead, but at the same time, strangely light.

Adriana gasped, her eyes flying open.

She expected to see the sterile white ceiling of the hospital. She expected to smell disinfectant and death. Instead, she saw crystal. A massive, glittering chandelier hanging from a vaulted ceiling draped in silk. The air smelled of expensive champagne, roses, and a faint hint of sandalwood cologne.

She sat up, the silk sheets pooling around her waist. She looked down at her hands. They were smooth. Unblemished. The IV marks, the dirt, the blood-all gone.

She scrambled out of the bed, her legs unsteady. She caught sight of herself in the floor-to-ceiling mirror across the room.

The woman staring back at her was young. Her skin was taut, her eyes bright, her hair thick and shiny. She was wearing a silk robe she hadn't seen in years.

Twenty-one. She was twenty-one.

The sound of water running came from the en-suite bathroom. The door opened, steam rolling out.

Everette walked out. He looked younger too. His hair was darker, his face less lined. A towel was slung low around his hips, water dripping down his chest. He looked at her, and for a second, a flash of warmth crossed his features.

"You're awake," he said, his voice smooth. He started towards her, a small smile playing on his lips. "I was worried. Last night was... a lot." He saw the way she flinched, the sheer terror that flashed in her eyes, and his own expression faltered, the smile vanishing. His tone shifted, becoming urgent, almost pleading. "Adriana," he said softly. "Marry me."

The words hit her like a physical blow. The same proposal. The same script.

Adriana jerked back, stumbling away from his touch. Her heart was hammering against her ribs, her skin crawling with phantom sensations of dirt and blood.

Everette froze, his hand hanging in the air. The warmth was gone, replaced by confusion. "What's wrong?"

She didn't answer. Her eyes darted around the room, desperate for an escape, a weapon, anything. They landed on the heavy crystal vase on the nightstand. It was a piece of art, sharp and heavy.

She lunged for it. Her fingers closed around the cold glass, and she hurled it at the floor with every ounce of strength she had.

The explosion of sound was deafening. Crystal shards sprayed across the marble floor, glittering like deadly snow.

Everette jumped back, his eyes wide. "Adriana! What the hell are you doing?"

She didn't hesitate. She dropped to her knees among the broken glass, ignoring the sharp sting as a shard sliced her knee. She grabbed the longest, sharpest piece. It was cold and heavy in her palm.

She pressed the jagged edge against her neck. The point bit into her skin, a hot, sharp sting. A drop of blood welled up, sliding down her collarbone.

Everette's face drained of color. The confusion was gone, replaced by pure, unadulterated terror. He held up his hands, taking a step back. "Adriana, put it down. Now."

"Don't come near me," she hissed, her voice shaking but her hand steady. The pain was real. The blood was real. It grounded her in this nightmare.

"Listen to me," he said, his voice strained, his eyes locked on the blood trickling down her neck. "Whatever you think is happening-"

"I know exactly what's happening," she spat, cutting him off. She looked into his eyes, the eyes that had looked at her with such contempt in the woods. The eyes that had protected Becky. "I know exactly who you are."

She pressed the glass harder, gasping at the sting, the warmth of the blood flowing faster.

"Everette Mills," she said, her voice ringing out in the silent room. "I, Adriana Guzman, would rather die right here, right now, than ever marry you."

The blood dripped onto the white silk of her robe, staining it red. Everette stared at her, his face a mask of absolute horror, completely trapped in a moment he didn't understand.

The beeping was the first thing she heard. A steady, rhythmic pulse that matched the throbbing in her neck. The smell of antiseptic filled her nose again.

Adriana opened her eyes. White ceiling. Hospital.

She reached up, her fingers brushing against the thick gauze wrapped around her throat. She was alive. Again.

She turned her head on the pillow. A figure was slumped in the chair beside the bed, red hair spilling over the armrest.

Janna.

Adriana's breath hitched. She looked so young. Her skin was fresh, her face relaxed in sleep. She wasn't bruised. She wasn't broken.

"Janna," Adriana whispered, the word scraping past her sore throat.

Janna jerked awake, her eyes flying open. When she saw Adriana looking at her, she gasped, leaning forward to grab her hand. "Oh my god, Adriana. You're awake. Are you in pain? Should I call the nurse?"

Tears spilled down Adriana's cheeks. She squeezed Janna's hand, holding on like it was a lifeline. "You're here. You're real."

"Of course I'm real," Janna said, her brow furrowed with concern. "I've been here all night. You scared me to death. Why would you do that?"

Before Adriana could answer, the door was thrown open. It hit the wall with a bang, making Janna jump.

Hector and Dolores Guzman strode into the room. They looked impeccable, dressed in designer clothes, their faces set in matching expressions of fury.

"What were you thinking?" Dolores demanded, her voice sharp enough to cut glass. "Do you have any idea the damage control we've had to do? The press is circling like sharks!"

Hector stood at the foot of the bed, his arms crossed over his chest. "Mills called us. He was furious. Do you want to destroy this family? Is that your goal?"

Not a single question about her health. Not a single glance at the bandages on her neck.

In the past, this would have gutted her. She would have begged for their approval, cried for their attention. But now, looking at their cold, calculating faces, all she felt was a chilling clarity.

"I'm tired," Adriana said, her voice flat. "I want to rest."

"Rest?" Dolores scoffed. "You try to kill yourself over a man, and you want to rest? You will fix this, Adriana. You will apologize to Everette, and you will make him believe it."

Adriana looked at her mother. The woman who had sold her to the highest bidder. She knew that fighting them head-on would only bring more pain. She needed to be smart.

She let her shoulders slump. She lowered her eyes, letting her face crumple into an expression of defeat. A tear rolled down her cheek, perfectly placed.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I panicked. I was so scared. I didn't mean to ruin everything."

Dolores blinked, clearly surprised by the quick surrender. Hector's frown lessened slightly.

"I'll apologize to him," Adriana continued, keeping her voice meek. "I'll tell him it was a mistake. I just need a little time to recover. Please, don't be mad at me."

Hector nodded, satisfied. "See that you do. The Mills connection is everything. Don't mess this up again."

Dolores patted her leg stiffly. "Get well soon. We have a reputation to maintain."

They walked out, leaving the door open behind them.

Janna stared at her, wide-eyed. "Adriana... are you okay? You just agreed to-"

Adriana looked up, meeting Janna's eyes. The meekness was gone. In its place was a cold, hard determination that made Janna go silent.

"I'm not apologizing," Adriana said quietly. "I'm surviving."

She closed her eyes, her mind already racing. She needed money. Her trust fund was controlled by her parents, but her grandmother's was different. She had access to that on her terms.

She needed to protect Janna. She couldn't let her friend fall into the trap that was Troy Boggs.

And she needed to get as far away from Everette Mills as humanly possible. This time, she wasn't going to just die. She was going to disappear.

The door clicked shut, and the oppressive atmosphere left with her parents. Adriana let out a long breath, her body sinking back into the mattress.

Janna handed her a cup of water, her hand trembling slightly. "You scared me. The way you talked to them... it was like you were a different person."

Adriana took a sip, the cool water soothing her raw throat. She looked at Janna, really looked at her. In the other timeline, Janna had been beaten black and blue by Troy Boggs. She had been a shadow of herself, terrified and broken.

The memory was a knife in Adriana's chest. She couldn't let that happen again.

She set the cup down and reached out, grabbing both of Janna's hands. Her grip was tight, almost painful.

"Janna, listen to me," Adriana said, her voice low and intense. "This is important."

Janna blinked, startled by the intensity. "What is it?"

"You need to break up with Troy Boggs. Today. Right now."

Janna's face flushed. She tried to pull her hands back, but Adriana held on. "Why are you bringing him up? Troy loves me. He's just stressed."

"He's stressed?" Adriana repeated, her voice hard. "Is that what he calls it? I see the way he looks at you when other guys are around. He doesn't look at you like a partner, Janna. He looks at you like property."

Janna went pale. "How... how could you say that?"

"Because I have eyes, Janna," Adriana said, leaning closer. "He checks your phone, he tells you what to wear, he isolates you from your friends. That is not love. That is a cage. And that cracked phone screen last week... you told me you dropped it, but did you, Janna? Did you really?"

Janna looked away, her bottom lip trembling. "He said he was sorry. He bought me that necklace..."

"A necklace is an apology for a mistake," Adriana said fiercely. "It's not a license to do it again. Janna, he is going to hurt you. I know it in my bones."

Tears welled in Janna's eyes. "You don't know him like I do."

"I know that you deserve better," Adriana said, her voice cracking. She let go of Janna's hands and cupped her friend's face, forcing Janna to look at her. "You are the best person I know. You are smart and kind and you do not need a man to validate you. I cannot lose you to someone like him."

Janna stared at her, the fight draining out of her. She saw the desperation in Adriana's eyes, the raw fear, and it scared her more than Troy ever had.

"I'll try," Janna whispered. "I'll talk to him."

"No," Adriana said firmly. "You don't talk to him. You tell him it's over, and then you block him. If he comes near you, you call me. If he threatens you, you call the police. Promise me."

Janna swallowed hard, then nodded. "I promise."

Adriana let out a breath, her shoulders dropping. It wasn't a guarantee, but it was a start. She had planted the seed.

"Good," Adriana said. She reached for the phone on the nightstand. "Now, I need you to do me a favor. Hand me my bag."

Janna grabbed the designer tote from the chair and handed it over. Adriana dug through it until she found her phone. She plugged it into the charger, waiting for the screen to light up.

It booted up, and instantly, it buzzed with notifications. Missed calls from her mother. Texts from her father. And dozens of messages from Everette.

She didn't read them. She deleted them all without a second glance.

Then she scrolled through her contacts until she found the number for her grandmother's personal assistant.

"Who are you calling?" Janna asked.

"Someone who can help me get out of here," Adriana said. The line connected. "Hello? It's Adriana Guzman. I need to access my trust fund. All of it. I need you to start the process immediately."