Chapter 3Her Deadly April Fool’s Rebound

The air was sucked out of the room.

No one expected me—the girl who had compromised and accommodated Corey for two years—to end it over what they considered a minor spat.

Bernice’s head snapped up. A flash of wild, uncontainable triumph sparked in her eyes, though she quickly arranged her face into a mask of distress.

"Oh my god, stop! This is my fault. You guys are talking about getting engaged. Don't break up over me!"

I rolled my eyes. "Save the acting, Bernice. Your lips are about to tear from smiling so hard."

"Harriet! Watch your tone! What did Bernice ever do to you?" Corey reached out to grab my arm.

I slapped his hand away with a resounding smack.

I walked out and slammed the door behind me.

I practically sprinted through the parking garage. I threw myself into the driver’s seat of my SUV, my heart hammering against my ribs.

There was no room for heartbreak. I needed to move.

My mind kept replaying Bernice’s terrified expression when she read the rebound clause. The dread in her eyes wasn't an act. That meant that in this lifetime, if the tragedy struck, the catastrophic blowback would hit her.

I let out a long, shaky exhale.

But I wasn't leaving my family's survival up to mystical karma.

I fumbled for my phone and dialed my younger sister, Sophie. She was a sophomore at a prestigious boarding school on the edge of the city.

It rang forever. Finally, a hushed voice answered.

"Harriet? I'm in study hall."

The moment I heard her voice, the dam broke. Hot tears pricked my eyes. I gripped the steering wheel, forcing the tremor out of my voice.

"Soph. Listen to me very carefully. No matter what happens today, you are not to step foot off campus. Do you understand me? You don't leave the gates."

She was startled by my intensity. "Why? It's the weekend. I don't have afternoon classes."

"Don't ask questions!" I snapped, harsher than I meant to. "I don't have time to explain, but I would never hurt you. Stay on campus. Do not go anywhere!"

Sophie was a good kid. Sensing the sheer panic radiating through the phone, she promised me, swearing she wouldn't leave her dorm.

Half the weight lifted from my chest.

I threw the car into drive and hit the gas. Fifteen minutes of aggressive city driving later, I pulled up to my parents’ trendy downtown bistro.

It was the peak of the lunch rush. There was a line out the door.

I stormed past the hostess stand, grabbed the microphone from the manager, and hit the PA system.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I am so sorry! We have an emergency situation. We are closing immediately. Please evacuate the dining room."

The customers stared at me, forks suspended in mid-air. Then, the uproar began.

"Are you kidding me? We waited an hour for a table!"

"What kind of management is this?"

My parents rushed out of the kitchen, their faces pale with shock. They grabbed my arms.

"Harriet, have you lost your mind? It's the lunch rush! Do you know how much money we're losing?" my dad hissed.

Looking at my parents—vibrant, healthy, alive—the back of my throat burned.

The image of them in orange jumpsuits, hollowed out and weeping behind reinforced glass, crashed over me.

My knees gave out. I dropped to the floor right there in the entryway.

"Mom. Dad. I'm not crazy. I'm begging you. Close the doors right now."

Terrified, they dropped to their knees beside me, trying to pull me up.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong? Talk to us."

I pulled them close, dropping my voice to an urgent whisper. "Dad, I got a tip. The health department is doing unannounced sting operations today. They’re looking for any excuse to shut places down, arresting owners on the spot for code violations..."

In the restaurant industry, the FDA and local health boards are the ultimate boogeymen.

My dad’s face tightened.

I gripped his wrists. "Close the restaurant. We need to scrub this place top to bottom. But more importantly—the walk-in freezer. Every single piece of inventory in the back alley needs to go into the dumpster. Do not save a single ounce."

Our sourcing was impeccable. We had never had a health violation.

But in my past life, someone had eaten something toxic and died. I wasn't taking a single gamble.

My parents exchanged a long, stressed look. It was thousands of dollars in premium ingredients. But seeing me pale, shaking, and on the verge of a breakdown, they caved.

"Okay. Okay, Harriet. We'll lock up."

For the next two hours, I was a woman possessed.

I stood by the loading dock, personally overseeing the kitchen staff as they hurled every side of beef, every crate of organic produce, every tub of prep into the industrial trash compactor.

When the metal jaws crushed the last of it, the stone sitting on my chest finally dissolved.

My mom untied her apron, wiping sweat from her brow. She gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"Take a breath, honey. Par for the course when you own a business."

She pulled her phone from her pocket, her tired face breaking into a radiant smile.

"You know, your sister is really growing up. Mother's Day was weeks ago, but she insisted on getting me a late present."

I froze. I stretched my neck to look at the screen.

It was a photo of Sophie. She was holding a little pink bakery box, standing at the entrance of a dark, graffiti-lined alley. Smiling.

The blood in my veins turned to ice.

I grabbed my mom's forearm, my fingers digging into her skin. My voice cracked.

"When did she post this?!"

My mom jumped, startled by my aggression. "Just... just now. Maybe ten minutes ago?"

The world tilted on its axis. My body was seized by violent, uncontrollable tremors.

This was the alley. The exact alley where, in my past life, a group of men had cornered her.

I snatched the phone from my mom's hand, my fingers shaking so badly I dropped it twice.

Suddenly, my own phone began to ring. It was Sophie’s dorm mother.

I hit speakerphone, my breath caught in my throat.

"Harriet? It's Sophie. You need to get to the school. Right now."