Aria POV
I wake up to sunlight streaming through unfamiliar windows and panic for three full seconds before remembering: mysterious apartment, fugitive status, crazy time-traveling partner.
My life is a disaster.
I check my phone: 6:47 AM. The mysterious messenger said Rebecca would strike at 8 AM. We have seventy-three minutes.
I tiptoe to the main room. Marcus is already awake, sitting at the table with the laptop open, frantically typing notes.
"You're up early," I say.
He jumps like I shot him. "I couldn't sleep. Too much to plan."
"What are you doing?"
"Making a list of everything I remember from my first life. Stock prices. Company launches. Real estate booms. If I have half a million dollars to invest, I need to be smart about it." He shows me pages of notes. "Apple stock is cheap right now. In three months, they announce the iPod and the stock explodes. Google's going public soon. Amazon is still considered a joke, but in ten years—"
"Marcus." I sit down across from him. "We're hiding from the police because we're framed for drug possession. Maybe worry about that before becoming a stock market genius?"
He blinks. "Right. Yes. That's probably more urgent."
"Probably?"
He runs his hand through his messy hair. "Sorry. I'm just—I wasted twenty-four years the first time. I can't waste this chance. Every second matters."
I see the desperation in his eyes. The fear. This isn't just about getting rich. It's about proving his second chance means something.
"We'll figure it out," I say softly. "Together. Remember? Partners."
He smiles. Just a little. "Partners."
My phone buzzes. So does his.
Unknown number: "Good morning. Ready for today's challenge? Rebecca is at the police station right now. She's giving a statement claiming Marcus sold her drugs last month and threatened her yesterday. She has fake text messages as proof. The police will issue a warrant at 7:30 AM."
My stomach drops. "Fake texts? How?"
Marcus's jaw clenches. "Her mother probably knows people. They can fake anything with enough money."
Another message: "But Rebecca made a mistake. She's so focused on destroying Marcus that she forgot something important: her own phone. Last night at 11 PM, she texted her real boyfriend Kevin about the frame-up. The text is still on her phone. You need to get that phone before she deletes it."
"Get her phone?" I stare at the screen. "How are we supposed to do that? We're fugitives! We can't just walk up to her!"
"You can't. But someone else can. Check your email, Aria."
I open my email with shaking hands.
One new message from an address I don't recognize. The subject line: "Your Weapon."
Inside is a video file. I click it.
The video shows Rebecca and her mother in a car yesterday, right before the coffee shop incident. The audio is crystal clear:
"That Aria girl is with Marcus now," Rebecca says, putting on lipstick. "I need to eliminate her. Destroy her laptop. Ruin her scholarship chances. Make her so desperate she crawls away."
"What about Marcus?" her mother Linda asks.
"I'll frame him for drugs. Then when he's desperate and scared, I'll swoop in as his savior. He'll be so grateful, he'll marry me within a year. Just like we planned."
"And the baby?"
Rebecca laughs coldly. "Kevin's baby. Marcus will never know. Stupid boys never do."
The video ends.
I feel sick. "This is... this is evil."
"That's Rebecca." Marcus's voice is hard. "That's exactly who she is. And in my first life, her plan worked perfectly."
Another text: "Send this video to campus security and the police. It proves Rebecca's lying. But you need her phone too—that text to Kevin is the final proof. Here's how you get it..."
The plan appears on our screens. Detailed. Specific. Insane.
"This will never work," I whisper.
"It has to work," Marcus says. "It's the only way to clear our names."
At 7:15 AM, we leave the apartment. We're wearing the clothes from the closet—normal student outfits that help us blend in. My heart pounds so hard I think everyone can hear it.
We take the subway to campus. I email the video to campus security from a burner email account the messenger provided. Within minutes, my phone buzzes with news alerts: "Investigation Opened Into Rebecca Zhang's Accusations."
Step one complete.
Now for the hard part.
Rebecca is at the campus coffee shop—the same one where she destroyed my laptop. The messenger told us she'd be there at 7:45 AM, meeting Kevin before class.
We arrive at 7:43 AM. Through the window, I see her. Perfect makeup. Designer bag. Laughing with a handsome guy who must be Kevin.
Her phone sits on the table next to her coffee cup.
"Ready?" Marcus whispers.
"No. But let's do it anyway."
Marcus walks in first. Rebecca sees him immediately. Her face transforms—fake fear, fake tears.
"Marcus! Stay away from me! Someone help!" She's loud. Everyone stares.
But campus security isn't buying it anymore. Two officers approach her instead. "Ms. Zhang? We need to talk about this video that was sent to us."
Rebecca's face goes pale. "What video?"
While she's distracted, I slip in through the side entrance. Kevin is watching the security drama, completely focused on Rebecca. Her phone is right there.
I bump into Kevin's chair. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry!"
"Watch it!" he snaps.
In the chaos, my hand closes around Rebecca's phone. I slip it into my pocket and keep walking to the bathroom.
Inside a stall, I open her phone. No password—typical. I find the texts to Kevin.
There it is. 11 PM last night: "Just gave my statement to police. Marcus is going DOWN. Fake texts worked perfectly. Mom's friend at the station helped. By tomorrow, he'll be arrested and desperate. Then he's mine. LOL."
Kevin's response: "You're evil babe. I love it. When do I get my cut of his money?"
I screenshot everything. Send it to the email address the messenger provided. Then I delete the photos from her phone and slip back out.
Rebecca is arguing with security now. "That video is fake! Deepfake technology! Someone's trying to frame ME!"
"Ma'am, we also have reports of planted evidence and false statements." The officer is stern. "You need to come with us."
Kevin stands up suddenly. "I don't know her. We're not together. I was just sitting here."
Classic. Rats fleeing the sinking ship.
Rebecca's eyes find mine across the coffee shop. She knows. She sees her phone in my hand.
"You," she hisses. "You did this!"
"Did what?" I ask innocently. "I just came for coffee."
Marcus appears beside me, handing me a coffee cup with a small smile. "One vanilla latte for my study partner."
Rebecca's face twists with rage. She lunges toward us, but security grabs her arms.
"Let me go! They stole my phone! They're framing me!"
"We have your text messages, Ms. Zhang," the officer says calmly. "The ones where you admit to planting evidence. Your boyfriend Kevin already confessed to everything. You're under arrest for filing false police reports and evidence tampering."
Rebecca screams as they lead her away. Her mother Linda tries to intervene but gets warned to back off or she'll be arrested too.
The coffee shop erupts in whispers. Everyone's filming on their phones.
Marcus and I walk out calmly, like nothing happened.
Two blocks away, we finally breathe.
"We did it," I whisper. "We actually did it."
"You did it," Marcus corrects. "That was all you. You were amazing."
My cheeks heat up. "I was terrified."
"Terrified looks good on you."
I punch his arm, but I'm smiling.
Both our phones buzz.
"Congratulations. Round one complete. Rebecca is neutralized. But her mother Linda won't give up. She's making calls right now to powerful friends. By tonight, she'll have a new plan. And this one will be worse. Enjoy your victory for now. You've earned six hours of peace. At 2 PM, check your email. Your next challenge begins."
My smile fades. "It's not over."
"It's never over with people like them." Marcus's voice is grim. "But we're stronger now. We know how to fight back."
"Do we? Or are we just following instructions from a mysterious stranger who might have their own agenda?"
"Good question." Marcus stares at his phone. "Who are they? Why are they helping us? What do they want?"
As if hearing us, one final message arrives:
"Who am I? Someone who knows what it's like to lose everything to people like Rebecca. Someone who's been where you are. Someone who wants to see you win. P.S. - Aria, check the scholarship portal. Your essay was submitted at 6 AM this morning. The committee already sent their decision."
With shaking hands, I log into the scholarship portal.
One new message.
I click it.
"Congratulations! You have been selected as this year's Chen Foundation Scholar. $50,000 awarded..."
Tears blur my vision. I won. After everything—the destroyed laptop, the running, the fear—I actually won.
Marcus reads over my shoulder and grins. "Told you that you'd win."
"How did the messenger know?"
"Because they seem to know everything." He frowns at his phone. "Which should probably scare us more than it does."
"Should we be scared? Of them?"
"I don't know. They've helped us so far. But there's always a price for help." Marcus's expression darkens. "In my first life, I learned nothing is ever free. Someone always wants something."
My phone buzzes one last time:
"You're right, Marcus. Nothing is free. But my price is simple: I want you both to succeed. To build the empire you should have built. To destroy people like Rebecca who prey on the innocent. Do that, and we're even. Fail, and everything I've given you disappears. You have 99 days left. Don't waste them."
99 days.
The countdown is real.
And suddenly, our mysterious helper feels less like a guardian angel and more like a puppet master.
"Marcus," I say slowly. "What happens on day 100?"
His face goes white. "I don't know. But I'm afraid to find out."