Vivian couldn’t sleep again.
Lately, the memories from her past life didn’t come to her that often, but tonight hit different. Her real background was like a slap to the face, and now all she could see when she closed her eyes were flashbacks—Alexander' death, the Knight brothers dying one by one.
And then there was that whole mess with the Grants forging Daphne’s identity, letting her take Vivian’s place like it was nothing.
Sure, her rational side told her the past life was over—that she’d been given a second shot and none of that would happen again. But deep in her mind, another voice screamed out in rage: “Why should the past just stay in the past? Like it never happened? Like those people weren’t monsters? Like that man wasn’t trash? Like you didn’t kill your own family?”
