Chapter 1

I died in a fire.

The study hall caught flame, and as the smoke choked the last breath from my lungs, I closed my eyes.

Then I opened them again — ten years later.

I dug through my school bag and found a phone. With trembling hands, I called Julian Harrington.

"Julian," I said carefully, "can you come pick me up?"

Silence on the other end. Only a slow, heavy exhale.

My courage faltered.

"If that's too much trouble... could you lend me some money? Julian?"

On the other end of the line, Julian Harrington — who had been lying in a bloody bathtub, inching toward death — hauled himself upright.

"Doesn't matter who you are," he rasped through gritted teeth. "Wait for me."