My Best Friend, My Killer: A Reborn Revenge

My Best Friend, My Killer: A Reborn Revenge

Mattie Valelly

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The world snapped back into focus with a single doorbell chime. It was Debra Fowler, standing on my porch, a clipboard in her trembling hands, her face a mask of grief. My best friend, Molly, stood in my kitchen, a bright, helpful smile on her face. This scene was hauntingly familiar. I knew this exact moment. I remembered the cold dread that followed, the fall down the porch stairs, the cracking sound as my head hit the concrete. The memory was so vivid it felt like watching a movie of my own death. Molly had smiled as she helped set the trap that killed me. She wanted me dead. She wanted my house, my inheritance, and Matthew, Debra' s charismatic, cheating husband. They had a simple, brutal plan: frame me for weakening Caleb, use his death to turn the neighborhood against me, then get rid of me. In the first timeline, it worked perfectly. But I was back. This time, I knew everything.

Introduction

The world snapped back into focus with a single doorbell chime. It was Debra Fowler, standing on my porch, a clipboard in her trembling hands, her face a mask of grief.

My best friend, Molly, stood in my kitchen, a bright, helpful smile on her face. This scene was hauntingly familiar.

I knew this exact moment. I remembered the cold dread that followed, the fall down the porch stairs, the cracking sound as my head hit the concrete.

The memory was so vivid it felt like watching a movie of my own death. Molly had smiled as she helped set the trap that killed me.

She wanted me dead. She wanted my house, my inheritance, and Matthew, Debra' s charismatic, cheating husband.

They had a simple, brutal plan: frame me for weakening Caleb, use his death to turn the neighborhood against me, then get rid of me. In the first timeline, it worked perfectly.

But I was back. This time, I knew everything.

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My soul floated above the cold asphalt, watching my own naked body lying lifelessly on the street. I was 30, a successful architect, but all I heard were whispers of judgment-that I' d thrown my life away for Olivia. Everyone knew she never loved me, that she was always with Daniel. To die like this, discarded and forgotten, was nothing short of a pathetic waste. Then, a strange, swirling pain, and I woke up not dead, but screaming, my left hand wrapped in a bloody rag. A finger was freshly severed. Before me, tied to a chair, was Daniel. And holding a bloody knife, cold and impatient, stood Olivia. My mind reeled: this was ten years ago, the very day my life began its downward spiral. The kidnapping, the torture, the moment Olivia chose Daniel over me, leaving me for dead. The memory of my actual death, the whispers of strangers judging my wasted life, burned clearer than any past pain. I watched her look at Daniel, her choice already made in her eyes, just like before. I was nothing to her. I had always been nothing. The desperate love, the years of pining-it all turned to ashes. Why was I back? Why was I forced to relive this cruel charade, knowing the tragic end it led to? The injustice, the utter pointlessness of my devotion, fueled a cold, hard fury I' d never known. This time, something inside me snapped. This time, I wouldn' t beg. This time, I' d escape. I' d use every shred of memory I had from the future I' d just left, every bitter lesson learned, to break free and forge a life entirely my own, a life where Olivia had no place.

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