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My eyes snapped open in the blinding hospital light. A nurse murmured the date: July 15th, 2013. The number slammed into me. It couldn't be. That was ten years ago. Ten years before the crash that supposedly just happened. Ten years before I, Sarah Miller, endured a decade of quiet suffocation married to Ethan Hayes. In my real recent past, just before the crash, I'd discovered gut-wrenching betrayal: Ethan and Olivia Cartwright, his high-school flame, renewed vows in secret. While I was still his wife. The misery, the constant, gnawing neglect, Ethan's emotional energy poured into Olivia like water into sand-it all came rushing back. He had lived a double life, building a separate future with another woman while married to me. My spirit, a withered thing, had accepted it. Now, I was back. Before the suffering, before the constant, soul-crushing betrayal. A cruel irony: my alleged accident had sent me backward in time, to before the misery even began. The quiet misery was a screaming void. I just relived it, and realized I was about to restart it. But not this time. This was it. My second chance. Ethan could have Olivia. He could have her from the start. Sarah Miller was not walking that path again. I was going to orchestrate their "happiness" and secure my own escape into a real life.