Sophia lay frozen on the narrow dorm bed, her chest rising and falling too fast, as if her body hadn't yet learned that it was allowed to breathe again.
The air smelled faintly of detergent and old books. The hum of voices drifted in through the open window-students laughing, footsteps echoing down the hallway, the distant call of someone arguing on the phone about an assignment deadline.
Sounds of life.
Of youth.
Of a time she had already lived... and lost.
She lifted her hands slowly, staring at them as if they didn't belong to her. Smooth skin. No scars. No IV marks. No trembling weakness. She clenched her fingers into fists, nails biting into her palms.
Pain flared-sharp and real.
"I'm alive," she whispered hoarsely.
Her voice sounded younger. Softer.
A sob broke free before she could stop it. She curled onto her side, burying her face into the thin pillow as tears soaked through the fabric. They came in waves-grief, relief, rage, and regret crashing together until she could no longer tell where one ended and another began.
She remembered everything.
The wedding.
The coldness.
The crash.
The words spoken outside her hospital room.
Once she's gone, everything is mine.
Her stomach twisted violently. She sat up, clutching her chest as if trying to rip the memory out of herself.
"Andrew," she whispered, the name tasting like poison now.
How many times had she chosen him over her own instincts? Over the quiet warnings in her heart? Over the people who truly cared for her?
And how many times had she ignored the one person who never asked her for anything?
Daniel.
The name surfaced with a dull ache.
She squeezed her eyes shut, Daniel's face appearing clearly in her mind-his calm gaze, the way he always stood a little to the side, never pushing, never demanding. The warmth of his hand around hers in the hospital room returned vividly, almost painfully real.
"You don't have to be strong," he had said.
Her breath hitched.
"If only I had looked at you," she murmured, voice shaking. "If only I had chosen differently..."
The regret was suffocating. In her previous life, she hadn't realized the cost of her blindness until it was far too late.
This time, she wouldn't wait.
A knock sounded suddenly on the door.
Sophia jolted upright, heart racing.
"Sophia? Are you awake?" a familiar female voice called.
Her roommate.
Reality settled around her again, grounding her. She wiped her face quickly, took a deep breath, and forced her voice steady.
"Yes. Come in."
The door creaked open, and her roommate, Lin Yue, peeked inside. "You scared me," she said. "You overslept. I thought you were sick."
Sophia glanced at the clock on the wall.
8:47 a.m.
Her heart skipped.
This date-
Her breath caught as memories aligned.
Today was the day Andrew would come looking for her.
The day he would ask for money.
The beginning of everything.
"I'm fine," Sophia said, managing a small smile. "Just... had a bad dream."
Lin Yue shrugged. "You should hurry. You'll be late for class."
"I know," Sophia replied softly.
But she didn't move.
Not immediately.
Because for the first time in her life, she wasn't reacting.
She was thinking.
Later that morning, Sophia walked across campus slowly, letting the familiar scenery sink in. The tall trees lining the paths. The bulletin boards plastered with club posters. The carefree chatter of students who had no idea how fragile the future truly was.
She spotted Andrew from a distance.
He stood near the library steps, leaning casually against a railing, phone in hand. He looked exactly as he had back then-young, confident, attractive in a way that drew attention without effort.
The old Sophia would have rushed toward him, heart racing, eager to please.
This Sophia stopped.
She watched him carefully.
The way his eyes flicked around, searching. The impatience in his posture. The faint crease between his brows when he checked his phone again.
He wasn't waiting for her.
He was waiting for what she could provide.
As if summoned by her gaze, Andrew looked up and spotted her. His expression brightened instantly. He straightened, slipped his phone into his pocket, and walked toward her with easy familiarity.
"There you are," he said with a grin. "I've been looking for you."
Sophia studied his face, her heart strangely calm.
"What do you need?" she asked.
Andrew blinked, clearly not expecting that response. "What?"
"I said," she repeated evenly, "what do you need?"
He laughed awkwardly. "You're funny today. Come on, let's talk."
He reached for her arm.
Sophia stepped back.
The movement was small, but deliberate.
Andrew frowned. "What's wrong with you?"
She met his gaze without flinching. "Nothing. I just don't like being grabbed."
His smile faltered for half a second before he recovered. "You're being dramatic."
No.
She was being awake.
"You said you wanted to talk," Sophia continued calmly. "So talk."
Andrew hesitated, then lowered his voice. "I need a favor."
Of course.
Her lips curved faintly-not in amusement, but in understanding.
"How much?" she asked.
He hesitated again, then named an amount.
Sophia didn't react.
Didn't reach for her phone.
Didn't nod.
She simply looked at him.
Andrew's impatience surfaced quickly. "Sophia, I really need this. It's important."
"Important to you," she replied.
"Well, yes," he said, frowning. "Isn't that enough?"
In her previous life, it had been.
This time, she shook her head slowly. "No."
Andrew stared at her as if she had spoken a foreign language. "What do you mean, no?"
"I mean I'm not giving you money," she said simply.
His expression darkened. "Why?"
Because you'll kill me for it someday.
Because you never loved me.
Because I died believing in you.
She swallowed those words and offered him something far colder.
"Because I don't want to."
Andrew scoffed. "You're joking."
"I'm not."
He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Sophia, don't play games with me."
She held his gaze, unshaken. "I'm not playing."
For the first time, Andrew looked uncertain.
"You'll regret this," he said sharply.
Sophia smiled-soft, controlled, unreadable.
"No," she replied. "You will."
She walked past him, leaving him standing there in stunned silence.
Her heart pounded-not with fear, but with something unfamiliar and powerful.
Control.
That afternoon, Sophia skipped class.
She sat alone on a bench beneath a tree, notebook open on her lap, though she wasn't writing notes.
She was making lists.
Dates.
Amounts.
Favors she had granted.
Connections she had shared.
Every resource she had ever handed Andrew-freely, blindly.
Her jaw tightened.
In her last life, she had given until there was nothing left.
This time, she would take it all back.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Relentlessly.
As she closed her notebook, a shadow fell across the page.
"Sophia?"
Her breath caught.
She looked up.
Daniel Wright stood there, backpack slung over one shoulder, expression gentle but surprised.
"I heard you weren't in class," he said. "I wanted to check on you."
Her vision blurred instantly.
He's here, she thought. He was always here.
She stood up too quickly, her emotions surging out of control.
"Daniel," she said, her voice trembling.
He frowned slightly. "Are you okay?"
She stared at him, at the man she had lost once already, and felt tears burn behind her eyes.
"I'm fine," she said, forcing them back. "I just... I'm glad to see you."
He smiled faintly. "Me too."
The simplicity of it nearly broke her.
As they sat down together, side by side, Sophia felt the future shifting quietly beneath her feet.
The regret was still there.
But now-
So was resolved.
