Chapter Text
With a groan, I opened my eyes. It felt like everything hurt, even things that shouldn't have been able to hurt.
Wait.
Sitting up abruptly, I looked around the room. This was definitely not my bedroom. It wasn't even a hospital room, where I should have been after the accident.
If a person is conscious after being hit by a truck and isn't lying in a hospital bed, there's only one possible explanation.
I had been transported to another world and into someone else's body.
Quickly looking myself over, I noticed how small and childish my body was.
So it was true.
I'm so fucking trapped.
Casting another glance around the room, I spotted a door beside the vanity table. Driven by curiosity, I grabbed the handle and pulled it open.
A bathroom lay beyond.
It looked somewhat old-fashioned and nothing like the ones in the countries I had lived in, yet it was neat, dry, and scrubbed spotless.
Almost in a trance, I walked up to the large mirror, desperate to confirm that what was happening was real.
Staring at my reflection, I ran a hand through a mass of black curls instead of the familiar straight chocolate-brown hair I had always known.
Yep. I was definitely screwed.
And not just a little.
Now if only I knew where exactly I had ended up.
A sudden, sharp pain shot through my head, forcing me to squeeze my eyes shut. Images flashed before me like scenes from a movie played at impossible speed.
Once the pain subsided, I made my way back to the bed. Dropping onto the soft sheets with a relieved sigh, I tried to process everything.
Those images had been memories.
The memories of the previous owner of this body — Leticia Everett.
Leticia Everett was the daughter of a wealthy family, though she was obviously adopted. She looked nothing like either of her parents, nor any of her close relatives.
Leta herself knew it. The girl, whom her mother affectionately called Leta, was remarkably perceptive for her age, but she had wisely chosen to keep her suspicions to herself.
“Leta?”
I flinched at the sound of the voice.
“Are you all right? Breakfast is ready.”
Right. The girl had always been an early riser and one of the first to arrive in the dining room.
“Coming. Just give me a minute.”
Hastily getting ready, I tied my hair into a ponytail as I made my way downstairs.
The dining room was spacious and decorated in warm, welcoming tones. A large table stood in the center, surrounded by chairs, while glass doors opened onto a veranda.
The rest of the family was already there.
A middle-aged man with neatly styled light chestnut hair streaked with silver and sharp blue eyes sat at the head of the table. Henry Everett worked for the government, though Leta herself had never known exactly what position he held or what his duties entailed.
Across from him sat Clarissa Everett, a well-known actress in her mature years. Her pleasant features were framed by soft auburn curls gathered into a ponytail, and her warm brown eyes regarded the world with quiet kindness.
The head of the family sipped his morning coffee while reading the newspaper, as his wife cleared away breakfast dishes and set out pastries.
After greeting them, I sat down and began eating while quietly sorting through my thoughts.
There was no one for me to miss.
How could I long for people who had never existed in my life?
In my previous life, I had become an orphan during my teenage years. Even after growing up, I had never managed to form any truly close relationships.
Tired of a gray, joyless existence, I had made a desperate decision—to throw myself beneath the wheels of a truck.
I have nothing to regret.
There was no one who would miss me, just as there was no one I would leave behind.
Yet perhaps I had been given a second chance.
A chance to become a better version of myself.
This time, I didn't want to spend my days trapped in endless apathy.
Especially now that there were people worth living for.
Having firmly resolved to live this life better than the last, I returned to my room after breakfast. After changing into casual clothes, I informed Clarissa that I was heading to the park.
A small park was located near the house. On weekends, families with children filled its paths, while on weekdays it was mostly frequented by dog walkers and teenagers.
It was summer, after all, so the abundance of young people hardly came as a surprise.
As I wandered along the winding paths, I couldn't stop thinking about where exactly I had ended up.
There was no way this was just an ordinary world.
Well, it could be, technically.
But that would be far too boring.
According to the calendar hanging in the dining room, the current year was 1991, and I was living in London.
Could it be that I had ended up there?
Deciding that this was the most plausible theory for now, I tucked the thought away and headed home. The sun had begun to beat down relentlessly, and Clarissa had instructed me to be back in time for lunch.
It would be best not to keep her waiting.
The rest of the day passed in a haze.
My body carried out its routines almost automatically while I desperately tried to establish contact with the cosmos, higher powers, secret organizations, and anyone else who might be willing to explain what was going on.
And so the days slipped by.
A week later, on the twenty-fifth, trouble finally came knocking.
Quite literally.
It arrived together with a letter.