My lungs burned as I woke—not in the alley where I died, but in a sterile white room bathed in morning light. Silk sheets. Heartbeat monitor. A face in the mirror that wasn’t mine: sharp cheekbones, platinum hair, eyes like glacial ice. Then the memories hit like a freight train—Paul’s smirk, Fiona’s laugh, the scalpel on my eyelids.\n\nA hologram flickered: ‘Welcome back, Elise. Biometrics stable. Neural sync at 98%.’ I was in the Kensington Tower penthouse, ten years before the fall. My hands trembled, not with fear—but power.\n\nThen the door opened. ‘You’re finally awake,’ said a familiar voice. Liam. My adoptive brother. He looked exactly the same—soft brown eyes, that nervous smile. But when he reached for me, his hand lingered too long. ‘I’ve missed you so much.’\n\nMissed me? In this life, we were barely close. Unless… he knew? Or remembered something?