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Reborn at a cost Novel Cover

Reborn at a cost

Framed for corporate spying, Liana Bennett was arrested and murdered in a prison cell. Now she wakes in her old life, exactly one month before the set up. She has one month to identify the traitor inside her company who orchestrated her death before they do it again. The enemy is already watching, already moving. Every change she makes to rewrite comes at a price: a core memory erased. One wrong step, and she loses the very truth she needs to survive. Then there's Raphael Blackthorne, The ruthless CEO of her rival company, the man she spent a reckless night with, and now the person offering her flowers, dinners, and sincerity. Liana has a plan. She can't afford the distraction. But as her memories unravel and the enemy closes in, she faces the truth she can't outrun: to survive, she may have to become someone who no longer remembers why she fought at all.
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Chapter 12

Liana's POV

The hospital room was too bright and too quiet.

White ceiling. White walls. White sheets that smelled like bleach and nothing else. The IV line in my arm dripped slowly and steady, like it was counting down to something bad.

My head throbbed, like someone had packed my skull with wet cotton and kept pressing harder.

I blinked at the ceiling tiles. One had a brown water stain shaped like a sad face.

I tried to sit up. Then the room tilted.

A nurse came in, her steps quick,she had tired eyes, with a clipboard in hand.

"Easy now. You hit your head when you fainted. Concussion. We're keeping you overnight."

I touched the bandage on my forehead. Small. Sticky.

"What time is it?"

"Almost 8 p.m. Your colleagues said you collapsed in the office. Graham McFadden called the ambulance."

Graham.

Lucy.

The meeting.

I closed my eyes and tried to pull it back.

I remembered walking in. Graham behind his desk. Lucy in the chair. Her smile is too sweet.

I remembered opening my mouth.

"You. Always close. Always watching. The food. The flowers. The questions. You think I don't see it now?"

I remembered her face going pale.

Then ringing.

High-pitched. Loud. Like a kettle screaming inside my ears.

The room blurred. Colors bled. Graham's face stretched. Lucy's smile twisted.

Then black.

I opened my eyes again. The monitor beeped slowly and steadily.

I needed to know. What do I do from here?

Right now. I focused on one memory from the first life. The day I got my promotion. Andrew Kane's email. Subject line:

Congratulations – Senior Data Analyst. I waited for the words to appear in my mind.

I pushed harder.

The cake Lucy brought. Chocolate. My name in white icing.

I tried remembering the prison.

The ceiling stains.

One thousand, two hundred and twenty-three.

The number came... then slipped away like water through fingers.

Panic rose fast.

I tried the poison.

The taste in my mouth. Metallic. Oily.

I remembered the burn.

But the guard who brought the tray?

His face.

Blank.

His name.

Nothing.

His voice when he slid the tray through the slot.

Gone.

My breath came short. Fast. It wasn't random.

It was every single change.

Wait!

Every time I did something different from the first life, skipped drinks with Lucy, built hidden scripts, went for coffee with Raphael, accused her today, a piece of the past life vanished.

The memories I needed to survive.

The clues.The faces.The truth. They were being erased. One decision at a time. I stared at the IV drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

How many were left?

How many changes could I afford before I forgot why I came back?

Before I forgot the poison. Before I forgot the betrayal. Before I forgot... me?

A sob caught in my throat.

I swallowed it down.

I picked up my phone and cancelled the dinner plans I had with Raphael. It's definitely not the time for that.

Suddenly, the door opened quietly, tentative movements moving towards me.

I turned my head.

Lucy.

She looked worried.

Eyes wide. Blonde hair is a little messy. Hands twisting together like she didn't know what to do with them.

"Liana..."

She stepped closer. Stopped at the foot of the bed.

"Are you ok? I brought your stuffs. Graham told everyone you fainted. I... I was so scared."

Her voice cracked. She looked like she might cry.

I stared at her.

The same Lucy who brought me coffee. Who laughed with me in the break room. Who visited me in prison.

The same Lucy who smiled when I fell.I tried to speak.

My throat felt dry.

"You came."

"Of course I came." She moved to the side of the bed. Her hand hovered over mine, hers slightly shaking, then settled lightly. "You're my best friend. I couldn't just stay away."

Best friend.

The words hurt.

Because I remembered something else.

In the first life, she never looked this worried.

She looked satisfied.

I pulled my hand away slowly.

She flinched like I'd slapped her.

"Liana... What's wrong? Talk to me."

I looked at her.

Really looked.The way her eyes flicked to the door.The way her fingers kept twisting her ring.

The way she kept glancing at the monitor like she was waiting for something.

And suddenly it hit me, harder than the fall.

I'd accused her today.

In the first life, Nothing like that happened.

I stayed quiet. Trusted her. Let the friendship blind me.

This time I spoke

And the ringing started.

I stared at her.

"You're worried," I said. Voice flat. "That's nice."

She swallowed. "Of course I'm worried. You collapsed right in front of me."

I let out a short bitter laughter.

"Yeah. Right in front of you."

Her face changed.

Just for a second.

The worry cracked.

Something colder showed underneath.

Then it was gone.

She reached for my hand again.

"Let me help you. Whatever's going on, we can fix it."

I pulled back. "No."

She froze. I leaned forward despite the pain.

"I remember now. Not everything. But enough."

Her eyes widened.

"Liana-"

The monitor beeped faster.

My vision blurred again-not from the concussion.

From the weight of it all.

Every decision I changed took something.

And this one, accusing her, took the last piece I needed.

The memory of how she smiled when she visited me in prison. It was getting blurry

I stared at her.

"You're not worried about me," I whispered.

Her face went white.

The door opened behind her. And heavy footsteps followed. What now?

A woman in a suit walked in. She looked at Lucy, then at me.

"Ms. Bennett. I'd need to speak with you. Alone."

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