I heard my stomach grumbling so hard from how famished I was. Weakness crawled through my body, the kind that made you question how much Elise had suffered before I got dropped into her mess.
Great. Not only was I stuck in this cliché of a story, but I was starving to death too.
"Okay, food. Priority one," I muttered under my breath, pushing myself off the bed.
The Smith house was bigger than I had expected, and far too lavish for a family that treated one of their own like trash.
They weren't billionaires, but they were doing well… thanks to the money Elise's mother had invested when she married John Smith. The irony sickened me.
Expensive couches, polished tables, portraits of sour-faced ancestors who looked like they'd swallowed lemons.. And there was Elise-correction- me, stuffed in a corner like the family's dirty secret.
My chest tightened. Damn. Poor girl never had a chance.
Even her picture now bore my own face. This was crazy.
I pushed open the kitchen door, and the scent of onions, broth and cheese welcomed me.
I paused at the threshold with a small smile. There she was. Mami. Plump, gray-streaked hair tied in a bun, stirring something at the stove, with soft eyes that carried more love than the rest of this household combined. Her eyes lit up the second she saw me.
"Ah, Sofia!" she cried, rushing forward to wrap me in a hug. "My child, thank heavens. You finally came out. I was so worried! You've been locked in your room for almost two days."
I frowned. Two days? That hadn't been in the book. Not even hinted. I guessed this meant my arrival had already changed stuff. A new branch.
I gave her my softest smile, hoping to soothe her. "Sorry, Mami. Didn't mean to make you worry. I'm fine, really. Just hungry."
I sniffed my clothes. "And filthy. Mind if I quickly shower in your bathroom?"
She clucked her tongue. "Why are you asking, my dear? You always shower in my bathroom."
Right. I forgot Elise started showering in Mami's bathroom due to Matt, her stepbrother, always peeping when they were much younger. He'd never really acted on his perversion, but still, better safe than sorry.
"Yeah, Mami. I forgot…" I squeezed her hand, lowering my voice. "Your bathroom IS safer."
She stroked my cheek. "Good, child."
I cleared my throat. "Thank you. And… um, also thank you for doing the dishes." The words slipped out before I could stop them.
Shit, shit, shit.
Her brows furrowed. "Dishes? How do you know I helped you with them?"
My brain scrambled. Yeah. Elise wouldn't have known that. I forced a little laugh, giving her my most casual smirk. "Call it a gut feeling. You always look out for me, Mami."
That did the trick. Her face softened again. "You're right about that, baby."
Suspicion gone. Phew.
I quickly showered in her bathroom, the warm water reviving me. When I stepped out, towel wrapped around me, I caught my reflection in the mirror for the first time. I still looked like myself, but… younger. Like I was back in my early twenties. Weird.
The kitchen table was overflowing. Meat, stew, bread… far too much for one person.
"Mami…" I gaped. "Are you feeding an army? This is too much food. I can't possibly finish all these."
"Eat." she ordered firmly. "Now that Madam and the others are out, you can finally eat properly. And later, hide some in your room. You know she doesn't like you eating much."
I paused, spoon in hand. They'd starved Elise? On purpose? I remembered reading all about it, but hearing it afresh… I couldn't help clenching my jaw as rage bubbled in my chest. But on the outside, I kept my meek smile. "Thank you, Mami. You're seriously the best."
She patted my back. "I'm here for you, my dear. Eat more."
As I dug in, I noticed her typing on a chunky iPhone 5. Not a 16 Pro Max. That was when it hit me; the setting of the novel was in mid-2015.
My lips curved into a grin. Perfect. If nothing major changed, I could literally predict everything that was coming in this timeline. Business, trends, even disasters. It would take my revenge game to a whole 'nother level.
I quickly leaned toward her. "Mami, what's today's date, please?"
She didn't look up from her phone. "Um… June eighteenth."
Sweet Mama Bitcoin.
I nodded at her, locking it into memory. Good. Very good.
Before I could take my next bite, the doorbell rang multiple times, making Mami stiffen.
"They're back already?" she whispered.
My brows creased, trying to recall something from the novel. "I thought they were out for the whole night?"
"That's what they told me. Maybe they forgot something…" Mami looked visibly worried at the sudden change.
I sighed.
I mean, I shouldn't have been surprised. I knew the plot was changing. I just hoped it wouldn't change too much. "I'll help you with the door, Mami."
"Are you crazy, child?" She quickly dragged me back, pushing the plates toward me. "Quick! Take these to your room. Hide it. You know if she sees it, there will be trouble."
I did as she instructed.
Instead of staying back in my room like Elise would do in the book, I decided to linger in the shadows at the stairs to observe the entire family as they walked in.
Judith was the first to walk in, fingers laced with John, my father. They looked like the perfect couple. Rachel was right on their heels with the perverted incel, Matt, trailing behind. And just as the novel described, they looked twenty-five and twenty-three years respectively.
Rachel was the first to spot me, and walked over with a smile over her extremely beautiful face.
Why were the prettiest ones always the most poisonous.
Her feather-light touch on my arm interrupted me from my train of thoughts. It was soft, but controlled. "Hey, Sof. How're you doing? You seem to have gotten yourself a bit…"
Was she showing concern? Of course not.
How did I know? Her eyes gave it away. She was looking at me with icy eyes masked with fake concern.
She was worse than her mother. If Judith was the serpent, Rachel was the devil that taught it how to bite. Dangerous. Calculated. Satan, dressed in Dior, basically.
"I'm doing well, thanks, sis," I smiled back at her.
Her smile sharpened. "I see you didn't enjoy the chicken soup."
What chicken soup? I racked my brain, flipping through the novel's pages in my mind, but came up empty.
But now that I thought of it, I had this weird chicken aftertaste in my mouth when I woke up in this body. Was that what she meant?
Looking back at Rachel's passive expression, dread slammed into my chest. Putting the pieces together…
The rotting dead flesh smell… the extreme weakness…
No. No. It couldn't be.
You see, being a crime/detective film addict came with some… perks. One of them being paranoia. The other, ultra potent, razor-sharp instinct.
My pulse hammered. I quietly excused myself, and walked as fast as my legs could carry me to my room.
What the fuck was going on?