Chapter 1

The last thing I saw was Chloe' s face.

My sister.

She smiled, a cold, satisfied smile, as the heavy wrench came down.

Pain exploded in my head, then darkness.

I remembered the blood, so much blood, soaking into the cheap carpet of my apartment.

Chloe' s voice, distant, "She knew too much. She was always in the way."

Then, nothing.

A gasp tore from my throat.

I sat bolt upright in my narrow bed, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.

Sunlight, pale and weak, filtered through the grimy window of my small paramedic' s apartment.

My head. I touched it. No pain. No blood.

I looked at my hands. Clean.

The calendar on the wall: June 14th.

The day it all started. The day Chloe came to me with her insane plan.

The day that, in another life, led to my murder.

I was alive.

I had a second chance.

A coldness settled deep inside me, a chilling calm.

This time, things would be different.

Chloe wanted to play a dangerous game. Fine. I' d let her.

I wouldn' t stop her. I wouldn' t warn her.

I would watch her walk right into the fire she was so eager to light.

A knock on the door.

My breath caught. It was her.

"Maya? You in there? Open up, it' s important."

Chloe' s voice, sugary sweet, a voice I now knew could hide pure poison.

I took a steadying breath.

"Coming," I called out, my own voice surprisingly even.

I opened the door.

Chloe stood there, looking flawless as usual, even in the dingy hallway. Her blonde hair, carefully styled, her makeup perfect. She was everything I wasn' t – glamorous, polished, and utterly self-absorbed.

"Maya, thank God you' re here. Something incredible has happened."

Her eyes were wide, feigning a mixture of shock and excitement.

"What is it, Chloe?" I asked, keeping my face neutral.

"You' re not going to believe this. I found Isabelle Moreau."

Isabelle Moreau. Marcus Thorne' s girlfriend. The woman Chloe was obsessed with, or rather, obsessed with replacing.

"You found her? Where?"

"Wandering near South Pointe Park, totally out of it. Amnesia, I think. She doesn' t know who she is."

Chloe' s story was practiced, smooth.

"She looks terrible, Maya. And she needs help. Medical help. That' s why I came to you."

She paused, letting her words sink in.

"I need you to check her out, you know, make sure she' s okay. And maybe… maybe you could help me make her look a little more presentable. Just some makeup, fix her hair. She' s a mess."

The real request. Get me involved. Get my medical skills as a shield, and my ability to subtly alter appearances.

In my past life, I had refused, horrified. I had tried to talk sense into her.

It got me killed.

This time, I looked at Chloe, at her eager, manipulative face.

A faint, cold smile touched my lips, gone so quickly she didn't see it.

"Okay, Chloe," I said. "I' ll help you."

Her face lit up. "Oh, Maya, thank you! I knew I could count on you!"

She had no idea.