Chapter 1
Hearing what they said nearly made me turn around and walk back out the door.
Everything that had happened across the first three lives played through my mind like a tape rewinding on itself.
In the first life, I walked in, and Sloane Merritt, who was standing closest to the door, spoke to me first. "Hi! I'm Sloane. What's your name?"
Common courtesy. I called her name back. "Sloane? That's a pretty name."
What I didn't notice was the way my other roommate, Celeste Vane, was looking at me.
Less than a week into the semester, a car hit me outside the school gate and sent me flying more than ten meters. I was coughing up blood.
As I lay there dying, I heard the boy driving make a phone call. He told whoever was on the other end that it was done.
The voice on the other end belonged to my roommate Celeste.
I died in a pool of my own blood.
In the second life, I was smarter. I walked in and chose to greet Celeste first.
She pulled out one earbud, looked at me, and said, "Mm."
I thought I'd cleared that hurdle.
What I didn't see was the look on Sloane's face, dark and unreadable.
That same night, Sloane posted in the class group chat: [Wow, someone in our program is really something. Walked in the door and immediately started sizing people up. Celeste's family has money, so obviously she's first in line to grovel.]
I became the gold-digger the whole school knew about. Students and faculty alike shut me out.
Someone pushed me down a staircase. As I tumbled down, I caught a glimpse of Sloane standing at the very top, her face blank, pulling her hand back.
The third life.
I was even more careful.
This time, I went straight to the quiet girl sitting alone in the corner and spoke to her first. I said her name before anyone else's, thinking, surely this time nothing can go wrong.
That night, I overheard Sloane and Celeste talking on the balcony.
"Did you see that? She walks in and doesn't say a word to either of us, goes straight to Iris Hale. What's that supposed to mean?"
"She thinks she's better than us."
After that, the water in my cup always tasted faintly off. At first, I didn't think much of it, figuring the pipes in the building were rusting. Then, a week later, I started having trouble sleeping. My ears rang. I began seeing things that weren't there.
The campus health center diagnosed me with an acute psychiatric disorder and recommended I be transferred to a psychiatric facility. I was sent to the psychiatric ward.
On the third night, two patients pinned down my arms. A white cloth strip closed around my throat.
I was strangled to death by the other patients.
The fourth life.
Three pairs of eyes turned toward me at once, their gazes like three blades pressing into my face.
I smiled.
This time, I moved first.
"My name doesn't matter," I said, pulling my suitcase into the room and leaning against the doorframe. "What matters is... which one of you spoke to me first?"
The three of them looked at each other.
Sloane pointed to herself. "Me. I just asked you, didn't I?"
I nodded and turned to Celeste. "So she spoke to me first. Any objections?"
Celeste blinked, then lay back down. "No."
I turned to Iris. "You either?"
Iris shook her head. "No."
I nodded, and without responding to Sloane, I turned and started making up my bed.
In this life, I chose to sidestep the whole thing. I would not call anyone by name.
