Elena awoke gasping, her heart thumping as if she had been dragged out of a nightmare. The pale light of daybreak filtered through the blinds of her ancient condo. She blinked, temporarily puzzled, until her gaze settled on the litter of cardboard containers about her, unused and accumulating dirt. She looked at her smartphone on the nightstand, her heart frozen as she read the date: March 15, 2014.
"No," she said quietly, swallowing hard as she sat up, stroking her face, feeling her cheeks, the smoothness beneath her fingertips. More young. Unmarked. Her mind whirled as she jumped to her feet and dashed to the mirror across the room. The reflection staring back became familiar yet unfamiliar, the visage of a girl unaffected by ten years of heartache, betrayal, and remorse. Her chest constricted, and he or she balled her fists, placing them against her lips to suppress a choking laugh or scream.
"This time," she said angrily, her eyes burning, "I pick out me."
She diagnosed the spark in her own eyes. That lady, the only one who had lost herself in someone else's goals, who had sacrificed her own achievement for the sake of another, had long since passed away. She had vanished, along with her existence on that terrace.
Her phone buzzed, bringing her back to the present. Zhang Industries: Interview Reminder.
The interview. These days turned into the day she met Ryan Matthews. She felt her stomach twist with old memories of love flowering among corporate ambition, late nights in boardrooms, shared wins, and hushed whispers spoken in deserted halls. But Elena knew where that led: treachery and broken vows. Her mirror looked back, determined and unrelenting.
"Never again," she muttered, the words cutting through her hesitation.
Another buzz on her phone.This time, Samuel. Her brother's message illuminated the screen, warm and encouraging. "I wish you good fortune these days, sis. Don't worry. "It's only an interview."
She took a nervous breath, attempting to forget the disturbing twist of nostalgia. On this timeline, Samuel didn't recognize her; he hadn't seen her at her worst, hadn't scooped her up after everything fell apart. She typed a quick, "thank you, Sam," allowing her hands to hover while the message was sent, the words feeling like a promise to both herself and him.
Any other text, however, made her heart stammer. An unknown number and one brief, cryptic message:
"The charge of converting fate is memory. You, by yourself, will not forget. Choose wisely, niece. - Wei"
Wei. Her uncle's words sent shivers down her backbone. So it wasn't merely a dream or a desperate phantom. He had finished this, given her a second opportunity, but she would be on her own in terms of knowledge. She removed the message, arms trembling, but her focus intensified. This was no time to worry; she had her life back to apply it.
She closed her eyes and summoned strength. If you walk that route again, you'll see what happens. It is time to rewrite it.
Elena dressed carefully, opting for a shape that screamed electricity rather than obedience, slipping into her shoes and gripping her purse as she stepped out of her apartment. The walk down the elevator felt weird, like descending into opportunity. This time, her heart wasn't racing with anxious expectation. This time, it was humming with eagerness.
She didn't back down when she saw the towering glass structure of the Zhang Industries skyscraper. This had once been a sign of her ambitions, but she couldn't be swayed by grand promises.
"Elena Zhang," she said at the receptionist's desk, her tone clear and forceful.
The assistant's eyes widened slightly at her tone, as if shocked by her confidence, before nodding and leading her down a long, glass-covered hallway. She recognized her own mirrored image in each panel they passed, and the feminine gaze became no longer uncertain or frightened. No, she became fierce and chose to pick herself.
As she entered the interview room, there was a flutter of whispers and quiet exchanges. Her pulse skipped a beat as she fixed her sight on Ryan Matthewstall, who was confident and had the same enticing smile that had earlier captured her. But now she saw through it, the ambition underlying the appeal, the hunger that had consumed everything in its path, even her.
Ryan's gaze met hers, his eyes expanding slightly as if he saw something unusual about her.
"Elena Zhang?" he inquired, extending a hand.
She took it firmly, allowing a faint grin to flicker across her lips as she appeared without delay in his gaze. "sure, that's me."
The interview turned into a sparring match, but she stood firm, kept her responses snappy, and never faltered in the face of Ryan's queries. She was not here to impress anyone. She came here to carve her own path and manner. And as the interview ended, she rose with confidence, leaving the room buzzing in her wake.
As she exited, her phone buzzed again. Rebecca sent a message: "How did it move?" I can't wait to have fun! Meet me at our location?"
A burst of heat melted Elena's steely edges. Rebecca, her devoted friend who had been there through it all, was there by her side, ready to cheer her on in this timeline. She hurried quickly to their favorite café, the only one they'd claimed as their own years ago, snuggled on Fifth Avenue, comfy and humming with the city's early hum.
Rebecca waved as Elena went inside, and they hugged, the familiar scent of coffee and croissants wrapping around them.
"So, how was it?" Rebecca leaned in, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
Elena took a long breath, feeling the weight of her new path sink into her. "Things went nicely. "Unique this time," she conceded, a smile pulling at her lips.
"extraordinary how?" Rebecca's face furrowed, and for a split second, Elena considered telling her the whole story. However, this was not Rebecca's burden to bear; it became hers alone.
Elena spoke gently, focusing on her coffee. "For the primary time, I'm selecting me."
They talked, with humor and assistance flowing as readily as before. However, as they finished, Elena's telephone buzzed once again. An email informed her that her first project had been completed. She formally entered. Regardless of what other message appeared behind it, this one chilled her to the core.
"Be careful who you consider. A few bonds are most easily tangled. - Wei"
Elena's heartbeat skipped. Uncle Wei's cryptic communications were becoming a recurring theme, a reminder that the stakes in this second opportunity were likely larger than she thought.
She forced herself to pocket the smartphone, smiling as Rebecca pulled her into another hug. However, her mind churned. This was more than just a do-over. This became her most effective shot, her one chance to untangle the threads of the life she'd left behind. The weight of that landed on her as both a load and a blessing.
Rebecca gave her a knowing look. "Something is unique about you, El. I don't know what it is, but I truly enjoy it."
Elena's smile turned stern. "Only a fresh start," she replied, despite the fact that her heart knew better. She had chosen her road, but how many others should follow it? The e-mail, the interview, the decisions she had to make—all of them might either take her to freedom or back to that rooftop.
Elena snuck her phone out again, rereading Wei's ultimate caution, as Rebecca waved her off. She had to be cautious, keeping her heart and belief safe. This second threat was more than just restoring her lives; it was about safeguarding her future, one choice at a time.
And as she walked back to her condominium, the familiar skyline drenched in dusk, she couldn't shake the feeling that she wasn't alone on her voyage.