DIED TO LIVE AGAIN

~MIRA The belt cracked across my ribs before I could brace for it. I gasped, choking on air that wouldn’t come. My knees buckled, but Adrian’s hand fisted in my hair, yanking me upright before I could collapse. Pain exploded across my scalp. “Look at me.” His voice was cold. Detached. Like he was discussing stock portfolios instead of breaking me piece by piece. I forced my eyes open. His face swam into focus—sharp jaw, blue eyes empty of anything resembling humanity. This was my husband. My adoptive brother. The man who once helped me tie my shoes when I was seven. The belt whistled through the air again. This time it caught my shoulder. The leather bit deep, and I couldn’t stop the sob that tore from my throat. My legs gave out. Adrian let me fall. My cheek hit the marble floor hard enough to split skin. Warmth trickled down toward my jaw. “Three months,” he said, circling me like a predator. His dress shoes clicked against the marble with each measured step. “Three months I’ve had to look at your pathetic face and pretend you’re worth anything.” I tried to curl into myself, to make myself smaller, but my body wouldn’t cooperate. Everything hurt. My ribs screamed with each shallow breath. My vision blurred at the edges. The belt struck again. My back this time. I bit down on my lip so hard I tasted copper. “Did you really think they’d let you keep it all?” Adrian crouched beside me, close enough that I could smell his cologne. Expensive. It was the one Victor bought him for his birthday. “The office. The title. The respect.” He grabbed my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes. “You stole it, Mira. Everything. From Isla.” His fingers dug into my jaw until I whimpered. “My real sister. The one who was supposed to have all of this.” “I didn’t—” The words came out broken. Wrong. “I didn’t know—” “Shut up.” He shoved my face away and stood. “You knew exactly what you were doing. Playing the perfect daughter. Working so hard. Making yourself indispensable.” He laughed, but there was no humor in it. “And for what? So you could pretend you belonged?” The belt hit the floor with a dull thud. I flinched anyway. Adrian walked to the bedroom door, his back to me. For a moment, I thought he was done. That maybe tonight he’d let me sleep without— “I’m going to make you wish you were never adopted in the first place,” he said without turning around. “By the time I’m finished, you’ll beg me to let you leave. But I won’t. Because you’re mine now, Mira. My toy. My reminder of how pathetic you really are.” The door slammed shut. The lock clicked. I lay there on the cold marble, counting my heartbeats. Waiting for the pain to dull enough that I could move. It took seven minutes. I pushed myself up on trembling arms. My right wrist gave out halfway, and I collapsed again. A whimper escaped before I could stop it. No. No crying. Crying meant he’d won and I was done feeling pathetic. I tried again. This time I made it to my knees. Then my feet. The room spun. I gripped the edge of the dresser, knuckles white, waiting for the world to stop tilting. When it finally did, I looked at my reflection in the mirror. I didn’t recognize her. The woman staring back had hollow eyes and a split lip. A bruise was already blooming across her left cheekbone, dark and ugly. Her blonde hair hung in tangled strands around her face. Her silk nightgown—the one Celeste had given me for our wedding night with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes—was torn at the shoulder. I looked away, disgusted. The window. I could try the window. But we were on the third floor, and the trellis had been removed last week. Adrian’s orders. The door then. But it was locked from the outside, and… Wait. I pressed my ear against the wood. Silence. No footsteps. No voices. Just the distant hum of the estate settling into sleep. I tested the handle. Locked, as expected. But the Castellan mansion was old, built in the 1920s when craftsmanship mattered more than security. And I’d lived here for eighteen years. I knew its secrets. I felt along the top of the doorframe until my fingers found the thin piece of metal I’d hidden there months ago. A hairpin I’d bent and shaped during one of Adrian’s longer absences. My hands shook so badly it took three tries to get it into the lock. Come on. Come on. The mechanism clicked. I froze, listening. Still nothing. I eased the door open inch by inch, wincing every time it creaked. The hallway stretched out before me, dimly lit by the sconces Victor, my adoptive father, insisted on keeping on all night. For ambiance, he said. I stepped out. The plush carpet muffled my footsteps, but every step and sound felt too loud. My breathing, the rustle of my nightgown, my heart hammering against my cracked ribs, all of them felt too loud. I made it to the stairs. Started down. Halfway to the second floor landing, I heard voices. I pressed myself against the wall, barely breathing. Two of the housekeepers…Maria and someone I didn’t recognize…stood near the kitchen entrance. Maria was holding a basket of linens. The other woman was shaking her head while the stranger's eyes were wide. “What are you doing, ma’am? You shouldn’t even be awake,” the stranger was saying. “Mr. Adrian gave strict orders—” “I don’t care what orders he gave.” Maria’s voice was sharp. Protective. She’d worked for the Castellans since before I was adopted. She used to sneak me cookies when Celeste put me on those ridiculous diets. “Look at her.” They both turned. I must have looked worse than I thought, because Maria’s face went pale. “Miss Mira.” She set down the basket and hurried toward me. “What did he…” “I need to leave.” My voice came out hoarse. Broken. “Please. I just need to.” I begged. “We’ll lose our jobs,” the other woman whispered. “If they find out we helped.” “Then we’ll find new ones.” Maria wrapped an arm around my waist, supporting most of my weight. “But I won’t leave her here to die.” The other woman hesitated. Then she nodded and moved to my other side. They helped me down the remaining stairs and through the servants’ corridor to the back entrance. Maria pressed something into my hand…her rain jacket, old and worn but warm. “Go,” she whispered. “Before someone sees.” I wanted to thank her. To tell her she’d saved my life. But the words stuck in my throat, so I just nodded and slipped out into the night. The rain hit me immediately. Cold and sharp and relentless. Within seconds I was soaked through, the jacket doing little against the downpour. I didn’t care. I walked. One foot in front of the other. Away from the estate. Away from Adrian. Away from everything. The streets were empty at this hour. Just me and the rain and the distant glow of streetlights bleeding into the darkness. I should have said no. The thought came unbidden, but once it arrived, I couldn’t shake it. I should have refused when Victor pulled me into his study and told me I’d be marrying Adrian. Should have walked away when Celeste handed me that velvet ring box with her cold smile. Should have fought harder, screamed louder, done anything except nod and agree like the obedient daughter I’d spent eighteen years pretending to be. In another life, I would have been braver. Stronger. I would have looked Victor in the eye and told him to go to hell. I would have packed my bags and left before the wedding, before the vows, before Adrian’s mask slipped and I saw the monster underneath. In another life, I wouldn’t be walking alone in the rain at midnight with broken ribs and nowhere to go. But this wasn’t another life. This was mine. And I’d made my choices. Even if those choices were killing me. I didn’t notice I’d reached the main road until my foot hit asphalt instead of sidewalk. I looked up. The street stretched out before me, empty and slick with rain. Across it, I could see a bus stop. Shelter. Maybe I could… Headlights. They came out of nowhere, bright and blinding. I froze, caught like a deer. My brain screamed at me to move, but my body wouldn’t listen. Couldn’t listen. The truck was going too fast. The driver hit the brakes too late. I heard the squeal of tires on wet pavement, saw the grill rushing toward me, and thought… This is how it ends. Not with Adrian’s fists or his belt or his poison words. But here. Alone. In the rain. The impact was a supernova of pain. My body flew backward, weightless for a heartbeat before gravity pulled me down. I hit the ground hard. Something inside me cracked. Ribs, maybe. Or spine. Did it matter? I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t do anything except stare up at the rain falling into my eyes. It didn’t hurt anymore. That was strange. Shouldn’t dying hurt? My vision was fading, the edges going dark and fuzzy. But in that narrowing tunnel of sight, I saw my life laid out before me like a map of wrong turns. Saying yes to the marriage. Staying silent when Celeste called me a thief. Believing that love and loyalty would be enough to earn my place. And turning down the one person that might have helped. He had stood and watched as I walked down the aisle to wed my adoptive brother. I’d been so stupid. So weak. If I could do it again, I’d be different. Stronger. I’d fight back. I’d refuse. I’d burn their perfect empire to the ground before I let them break me. But there were no second chances. Not in real life. A tear slipped from the corner of my eye, mixing with the rain. I coul dn’t tell where one ended and the other began. My last thought, before the darkness swallowed everything, was a wish. Please. Let me try again. Then nothing.