Chapter 1Her Deadly April Fool’s Rebound

It was April Fool’s Day when my boyfriend’s female best friend shoved a piece of paper into my hands, daring me to read it aloud for the livestream.

In my past life, to keep the peace, I swallowed my pride and read the vicious words:

I, Harriet, will lose my hair, my skin will rot, and I will become a monster.

My little sister will be dragged into an alley and violated.

My parents’ bistro will serve poisoned food, killing a customer and ruining our family.

That very night, every single one of Bernice’s sick, twisted curses came true.

My sister was assaulted in a dark alley. She jumped off her high school roof.

My parents’ viral farm-to-table bistro was shut down after a man died from eating their food. They were thrown in prison.

My face broke out in weeping, rotting sores, making me the target of relentless internet bullying.

Meanwhile, Bernice won a ten-million-dollar lottery. She took over my influencer account with its millions of followers. She married my boyfriend.

I swallowed a bottle of sleeping pills, choking on a grief too heavy for one lifetime.

Then I opened my eyes. The blinding ring light. The camera. The exact same April Fool’s Day.

Bernice was staring at me, a sickeningly sweet smile plastered across her face. "Harriet! Come on, don't be a buzzkill. Are you brave enough to play the prank stream or not?"

I let out a low, breathy laugh.

"Oh, I'll play. I'm just worried you don't have the stomach for it."

…

* * *

"Here! Read this!"

Bernice’s smile didn't reach her eyes as she thrust the folded slip of paper toward me.

I didn't take it. I just sat back, letting the silence stretch, smiling right back at her.

"If it’s a game, it’s no fun if I’m the only one playing," I said, keeping my voice light. "Let me write a slip for you, too. We’ll read them to each other. You know, for the engagement metrics."

Bernice blinked, her hand faltering. She let out a dry, nervous laugh.

"Oh, let's just stick to you. Today is about pranking you, I'm just the host..."

I mirrored her usual passive-aggressive, baby-voice cadence.

"Bernice, don't tell me you're scared? Our fearless internet bad-girl, suddenly backing down?"

A few of Corey's frat brothers were lounging on the sofa behind us. One of them snorted, tossing a beer cap onto the table.

"Damn, Harriet, chill out. Bernice’s practically one of the guys. There’s nothing she won’t do for a laugh."

My boyfriend, Corey, flushed a deep crimson. He kicked his friend's shin under the table, hissing, "Watch your mouth on the livestream, man."

Yet, his body language told a different story. He shifted entirely, angling his broad shoulders to physically shield Bernice from me.

"Just play the game, Harriet. What are you so afraid of?" he coaxed, though his eyes were hard. Then he glanced back at Bernice, his voice softening. "Don't worry, B. I've got your back."

With Corey defending her, Bernice’s spine stiffened. She puffed out her chest, suddenly emboldened.

"Who's scared? You first, Harriet. Read it!"

In those few minutes of tension, the viewer count on my livestream had skyrocketed to two hundred thousand. The chat was a blur of rapid-fire text, demanding action.

I looked down, slowly unfolding the paper in my hands.

The blood roared in my ears. Black spots danced at the edge of my vision.

It was the exact same wording.

When I didn't speak, Bernice sneered.

"Read it, Harriet. What, did you freeze? If you can't take a joke, you have to get on your knees and call me 'Mommy' on camera."

The peanut gallery on the sofa erupted into hoots and applause.

"Read it! Read it!"

"Call her Mommy!"

Corey nudged my arm, irritated. "Harriet, stop stalling. Just read the damn thing. You’re ruining the vibe."

The chat was a relentless wave of peer pressure:

[Is the host a sore loser?]

[If u can't play, log off.]

[Just read it omg so annoying.]

I curled my hands into fists under the table, my manicured nails biting half-moons into my palms. I forced the blinding, suffocating hatred down into my chest, locking it away.

I held the paper up to the camera and read it. Word by agonizing word.

"I, Harriet, will lose my hair, my skin will rot, and I will become a monster. My little sister will be dragged into an alley and violated. My parents’ bistro will serve poisoned food, killing a customer and ruining our family."

The living room went dead silent for two agonizing seconds.

Then, one of the guys slow-clapped.

"Holy shit. That is brutal! Bernice, your brain is a dark place. Top-tier content right there."

Corey laughed. He actually laughed. He reached over and playfully snapped the bra strap visible beneath Bernice’s oversized flannel.

"You're toxic as hell for that one," he joked.

Bernice covered her mouth, giggling uncontrollably.

"Wow, Harriet, I can't believe you actually read it! Aren't you worried putting that out into the universe will make it come true?"

Anyone else would have flipped the table. I kept my breathing steady.

I grabbed a sticky note, grabbed a Sharpie, and scrawled a single sentence. I slid it across the glass coffee table, stopping right in front of Bernice.

"My turn is over. Yours now. Read it."

The smug smile slid right off Bernice’s face.

She tucked her hands into her sleeves, refusing to touch the bright yellow square. Her eyes darted around the room, and suddenly, she swayed in her chair.

"Ugh. God. I'm so dizzy. My blood sugar is crashing again." She pressed a hand to her forehead. "Let's just wrap the stream here. We'll do part two another day."

Her visceral panic confirmed everything.

In my past life, I had agonized over how a few mean words on a piece of paper could destroy my entire world. Later, I realized Bernice was obsessed with dark web occultism and twisted manifestation rituals. She believed that by making me speak the curses aloud, she was legally transferring my good karma to herself and cementing my doom.

She reached for the mouse to end the broadcast. I clamped my hand over her wrist.

"You're the one who begged to play," I said, my voice carrying cleanly over the microphone. "And now your blood sugar is low? Two hundred thousand people are watching."

I leaned in, amplifying my voice for maximum humiliation.

"You've been trying to build your own channel for months. If you back out of a dare on a live feed, how are you ever going to make it in this industry? Nobody likes a flake."