(Ayra's POV)
My heart raced as Sasha stepped into the room, her familiar bright smile lighting up her face.
My blood ran cold. Sasha—my best friend, the woman who had shared my joys and sorrows, and in the future the same person who had plotted my death with my husband.
She had smiled just like that before she and Kyle plotted my death.
Now, seeing her so close, so concerned, made my stomach churn. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think.
She grabbed my hand, squeezing it tightly. "I've been so worried about you! You have no idea how scared we all were." Her voice was warm, her smile genuine—at least it seemed that way.
But I couldn't shake the memory of her standing next to Kyle, plotting my own death.
My body stiffened, and I tried to pull my hand away without making it obvious.
Her brows furrowed slightly. "Ayra? Are you okay? You look... scared."
Scared? The understatement of the century. I forced myself to smile, hoping it would mask the storm raging inside me.
"I'm fine," I croaked, my voice weaker than I intended. I cleared my throat and tried again. "Just... a little disoriented."
Sasha tilted her head, concern etched into her features. "You sure? You look like you've seen a ghost."
If only she knew. My heart was pounding so hard I thought it might explode.
What was happening? Was this some twisted dream, or had I been given a second chance? I couldn't let her see my fear, not now. Not when I hadn't figured out what was going on.
"I think it's just the medication," I lied, keeping my tone light. "I feel a bit... fuzzy."
Her expression softened. "That's normal. You've been through a lot." She sat down beside me, her movements fluid and familiar. "I'm just so glad you're okay. You really scared us."
Scared her? The irony almost made me laugh. Instead, I nodded weakly, pretending to be too exhausted to speak.
My mind raced. I needed to figure out where—*when*—I was.
"I'm glad you're ok now. I've been here since yesterday, waiting for you to wake up. I was so worried."
Yesterday? I clenched my fists under the blanket.
If what I suspected was true—if I had really gone back in time—then this version of Sasha didn't know what she was capable of yet.
She didn't know I knew what she would become.
I swallowed hard, trying to steady my voice. "What... what day is it today, Sasha?" I asked casually, trying to sound as if I was merely confused and not probing for the truth.
She gave me a puzzled look. "It's the 5th of April, 2016."
April 5th, 2016. The air left my lungs in a rush. Six years. I had gone back six years.
My chest tightened, and I struggled to keep my expression neutral.
"Is everything ok?"
"Yeah," I just wanted to know how long I've been out. Guess I was out longer than I thought." I forced a laugh, but it sounded hollow even to me.
Sasha didn't seem to notice. She kept talking, but I barely heard her.
My mind was spinning. Six years ago. I had gone back six years. How? Why? Was this some kind of cosmic joke?
Before I could process it further, the door opened again. My heart dropped as Kyle walked in.
His tall frame, sharp features, and piercing eyes were exactly as I remembered. My stomach churned, and an icy fear gripped me.
"You're awake, Ayra darling," he said, his voice calm but carrying an edge I couldn't ignore.
I couldn't answer. My tongue felt like lead, and the walls seemed to close in around me.
All I could see was his cold, calculating stare from my past life, the way he had looked at me when he pushed me into the sea.
The memories flooded back, making it impossible to mask my fear.
Sasha's brows knit together as she looked between Kyle and me. "Ayra? Are you alright? You're shaking."
I looked at her, then at Kyle, struggling to compose myself. "I'm just... tired," I managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper. "I think I need to rest."
Kyle stepped closer, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Are you sure? You seem... Off and somewhat different."
Different? The word sent a jolt of panic through me. Did he suspect something? Did he know?
"I'm fine," I said quickly. Too quickly. "Just weak. I need sleep." I closed my eyes, pretending to drift off, hoping they would take the hint.
After a moment, Sasha sighed. "Let's let her rest," she said, gently pulling Kyle toward the door. "She needs time to recover."
The door clicked shut, and I let out a shaky breath.
My body trembled, and I pressed a hand to my chest, trying to steady my racing heart.
My mind was a whirlwind of emotions—fear, confusion, anger, disbelief.
They were gone, but the suffocating fear lingered. I needed answers—now.
Pushing the blanket aside, I swung my legs over the edge of the bed.
My knees wobbled as I stood, but I forced myself to move toward the balcony.
The cool air hit me as I stepped outside, and I gripped the railing for support.
The city stretched out before me, familiar yet different. Buildings that should have existed were nowhere in sight.
Neon signs advertised brands and products that had long been replaced in my timeline. It was all exactly as it had been six years ago.
Tears pricked my eyes as reality sank in. This wasn't a dream. This wasn't some cruel trick. I had gone back. But how? Why?
Desperate for more proof, I grabbed my phone and searched for a song that had been a global sensation in my timeline.
My hands trembled as I typed the title, but the search results came up empty. The song didn't exist.
A sob escaped my lips, and I sank to the floor, my back pressed against the balcony railing.
This was real. I was really here, six years in the past. But what had brought me here?
Then it hit me—the ruby ring. I remembered how it had glowed just before my death.
The elderly couple who had given it to me. Who were they? How did they know this would happen?
I needed to find them. They were the key to all of this.
But first, I had to leave the hospital. And until I figure out what's going I had to play along, pretend that everything was fine, until I was discharged.
Then, I would find the couple and uncover the truth. Until then, I had to stay strong.
I had been given a second life, another chance, and this time around things would no longer be the same.