Second Chance, First Strike

The scratchy lace of the pillowcase was the first sensation as I woke up, followed by the blinding Texas sun through thin curtains.

My heart hammered. This room. I knew this room.

It was the historic Texas ranch B&B, the very place everything in my previous life went horribly wrong.

I was breathing. Alive. Yet, I vividly remembered my death: exploited and fatally harmed at an awful "wellness retreat."

A jolt went through me. My phone confirmed the terrifying truth: I was back.

Back at the very start of the family reunion, on the infamous day of the stolen locket.