Chapter 2

I didn't look back.

The moment I stepped into my room, I locked the door and pulled out my mother's old camera.

It was an antique instant camera, her most prized possession when she was alive.

When I was little, I asked her why she never upgraded to a modern digital one.

She had knelt down, pinched my cheek, and said with a smile:

"Because sometimes, old things are far more honest than people."

I never understood what she meant until now.

As my fingers brushed across the cold metallic casing, the camera suddenly vibrated, and another photo slid out from the slot.

I snatched it up.

The image showed the front gates of the Hayes mansion.

Two heavy-set bodyguards were shoving me into the back of an unmarked van. My mouth was taped shut, and my wrists were raw with rope burns.

Words slowly surfaced on the back:

[Tomorrow at 3:00 AM: After refusing to donate, Mia Thorne drinks a glass of drugged warm milk, loses consciousness, and is secretly transported to Mercy General Hospital. The Hayes family tells the press she ran away due to pre-wedding cold feet.]

My hands shook so violently I nearly dropped the photo.

Right then, footsteps approached outside, followed by a knock on the door.

"Miss Thorne, Mr. Hayes asked me to bring you some warm milk to help you sleep."

I stared at the sliver of light beneath the door, my blood running cold.

They weren't even waiting for morning.

I shoved the photo into my pocket and grabbed my overnight duffel bag.

I only packed the essentials: my ID, my mother's camera, a few original design sketches, and the first photo the camera had printed.

At the bottom of that first photo, beneath the bloody red text, was a brief news clipping:

Adrian Sterling, head of the Sterling Group, arrived at the mortuary late at night but was barred from entering by the Hayes family. He stood outside in the pouring rain until dawn.

Adrian Sterling.

My first love.

And the man I had labeled my worst enemy.

Seven years ago, my mother died in a horrific car crash.

Julian had told me that Adrian ran her car off the road just to steal her revolutionary "Mistlight" jewelry patents.

Chloe had sworn that she saw Adrian leaving the crash site with her own eyes.

And so, I despised Adrian.

I broke up with him ruthlessly and refused to ever see him again.

I trashed every bouquet he sent, smashed the gifts, and threw his jewelry into the dumpster.

I hated him for seven long years. I ran from him for seven long years.

Yet this photo from the future told me that in the end, he was the only one who came to claim my body.

I slipped out onto the balcony, grabbed the exterior drainpipe, and began to climb down.

The rough metal tore into my palms, and my knees banged hard against the brick wall.

When my feet hit the wet grass, I nearly collapsed.

Behind me, the entire villa lit up. The maids had realized I was gone.

Shouts echoed through the estate: "Miss Thorne escaped!"

I dragged my bag and bolted straight into the pouring rain.

My phone vibrated nonstop in my pocket. Julian was calling over and over.

I ignored every single call.

The icy rain lashed against my face like freezing slaps.

I reached the dark intersection down the private road, my shivering fingers tapping out a number I hadn't dialed in years.

Before I could press call, my screen lit up with an incoming call from that very number.

Trembling, I answered. A deep, steady baritone filled my ear.

"Mia Thorne, I thought you hated me. What does that text mean?"

I didn't have time to explain. I bit down hard on my lip to stop my teeth from chattering.

"Adrian... come get me."

I heard the sharp screech of a chair being shoved back on the other end.

His voice tightened. "Where are you?"