Tears blurred her vision. She blinked, trying to clear it, but they kept coming, hot and relentless. The world in front of her refused to come into focus.
Feng Suyin blinked again.
This time, she found herself staring back at her reflection in the massive mirror before her. She was taken aback. There she stood, dressed in a luxurious white wedding dress—the one Feng Yilan had chosen for her. Several other dresses hung in the corner, waiting to be tried on.
Hadn't she died already?
Disorientation hit her. Why was she standing here, looking like a bride? She reached out to touch the mirror, half-expecting her hand to pass through it. Instead, the cold, solid surface pressed back against her fingertips.
Someone pushed open the curtain of the dressing room.
Feng Suyin stiffened at the sight of Feng Yilan, who looked at her with a wide smile. This was the same person who killed her. Seeing Feng Yilan up close startled Feng Suyin so much that she staggered back into the corner.
"What's wrong, sis? Didn't you like the dress I chose for you?" Feng Yilan asked.
Feng Suyin couldn't form a coherent response. Her throat had closed. Here she stood, face to face with the woman who had killed her, and Feng Yilan was smiling like nothing had happened, like the world was still the same place it had been this morning. The corners of her lips curled upward. A malicious gleam in her eyes. If this were the past, Feng Suyin would never have noticed that her younger sister hated her.
She found her voice. If this was indeed the past, then Feng Yilan had no idea that Feng Suyin already knew her true colors.
"How... how are you here?" she stammered, her words barely escaping her trembling lips.
Feng Yilan's smile faltered for a moment before she regained her composure. Feng Suyin briefly saw the disgust flashing in her sister's eyes before it vanished.
"Oh, Yin-jie," she said, feigning innocence, "you must be confused. I'm here because you asked me to help you pick your bridal dress, right?"
Feng Suyin's heart knocked hard as she absorbed Feng Yilan's words. What on earth was her sister talking about? Was this some sort of sick joke?
She stood stunned. Her mouth opened. Nothing came out. Feng Yilan was right — she had asked for her help picking a bridal dress. She had no idea where to start. The memory hit her, and with it a sinking feeling of dread.
And understanding.
As she looked at Feng Yilan, a memory cut through Feng Suyin's mind—an image of her sister injecting a drug to kill her. She had no doubt that everyone would consider her death a complication of her injuries.
She and Feng Yilan had gone dress shopping three months before her wedding day. The same day she died in her sister's hands.
Feng Suyin's gut lurched as the reality pressed in on her. Alive. Standing in a dressing room, in a wedding dress, when she distinctly remembered the pain and the black that had swallowed her whole. Her burns. The needle going into her arm. The last thing she had seen before everything went out.
Feng Yilan must have sensed the shift. She took a step closer, her eyes filling with concern.
"I'm alright," Feng Suyin said quickly. "I have yet to try on the other dress you brought me."
She looked away, pulling her arm back just as Feng Yilan was about to touch it. The thought of that hand on her made her skin crawl — this woman who played the doting sister while planning her death.
When Feng Yilan tried again, Feng Suyin flinched and avoided her.
Everything felt like a dream. She pinched her arm to see if she would wake up. The pinch only confirmed that this was, indeed, reality. A reality where she was inexplicably alive and standing face-to-face with her would-be killer.
Wary of Feng Yilan now. Of everyone. She couldn't look at them the same way anymore.
Feng Yilan's expression shifted from concern to confusion. She took a step back, giving Feng Suyin space.
"Sis, what's going on? You're acting so strange," Feng Yilan said, frustration creeping into her voice.
"Nothing. I just feel so nervous. The wedding day is approaching so fast."
Feng Yilan let out a laugh.
"Oh, Sis. You've always been such a worrier. But don't worry. Everything will be perfect on your big day."
Feng Suyin gave her a smile.
She knew better than to believe her sister's words. She had always been the one who lost, the one who messed things up, the one standing on the wrong side of every door. Something would go wrong on her wedding day. She had lived that already.
She watched Feng Yilan leave the dressing room.
Finally alone, Feng Suyin took a moment to compose herself. The cold of it sat in her chest. Feng Yilan would try to kill her. No one could be trusted now. Not even her own sister.
Was she reborn?
Had she returned in time? Had she experienced death only to find herself back in the past, trapped in a twisted cycle? The thought alone made her head spin. There was no time to dwell on it. She needed to calm down and figure out how to proceed now that she knew what was waiting for her.
Feng Suyin took a deep breath, pushing aside the fear and confusion that threatened to consume her. She couldn't change what had already happened. She knew that. But she was here now, three months before the wedding, in her own body. She could change how she faced what came next.
She took her reading glasses from her purse, then pulled out her phone to check the date. Her hands shook as she scrolled. The date confirmed it: she was indeed back in the past. She continued scrolling, searching for any clues or signs that could help her understand what had happened—and how she could prevent her own demise.