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After My Death, I Exposed Her Perfect Crimes Novel Cover

After My Death, I Exposed Her Perfect Crimes

I jolted awake with a gasp, my heart hammering against my ribs like it wanted to escape. The familiar ceiling of my bedroom came into focus—the same pale blue I'd stared at for years, the same hairline crack running from the corner that Dad kept promising to fix. For one blissful moment, confusion reigned. Then reality crashed down on me like a tidal wave. I remembered dying. I remembered everything. My trembling hand reached for my phone on the nightstand, fingers fumbling as I checked the date. October 15th. The day that had destroyed my life stared back at me from the screen, mocking me with its innocuous numbers. I sat up slowly, my gaze drifting to the wall calendar where I'd circled the date in red marker—'Dance Committee Meeting' scrawled beside it in my looping handwriting.
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Chapter 2

By lunchtime, the whispers had grown from a trickle to a flood. I felt them like pinpricks against my skin as I walked through the cafeteria, tray in hand, back straight as a dancer's should be.

"Can you believe how cold she was?"

"Riley just needed a simple favor..."

"Always thought she was stuck-up..."

The words floated around me, carefully pitched to be overheard. In my previous life, these whispers had devastated me, each one a paper cut to my confidence until I was bleeding from a thousand tiny wounds. Now, I let them wash over me, recognizing them for what they were: the first wave of Riley's counterattack.

I spotted an empty table near the window and made my way toward it, feeling the weight of stares following me. In the center of the cafeteria, Riley held court, her eyes red-rimmed as if she'd been crying. Sean sat beside her, his arm draped protectively around her shoulders. My boyfriend—or the boy who would have been my boyfriend in this timeline—caught my gaze for a fleeting second before looking away, his expression troubled.

"I just don't understand," Riley's voice carried, trembling with practiced vulnerability. "I've helped her with so many things, and the one time I ask for something simple..."

One of her friends—Zoe or Chloe, I could never keep them straight—patted her hand. "Some people just don't know how to be there for others."

I sat down and methodically arranged my lunch, my mind racing even as my exterior remained composed. I needed allies. I needed evidence. Most of all, I needed to stay three steps ahead of Riley's game.

Across the cafeteria, I noticed Maya Chen sitting alone, her dark hair falling forward as she focused on her laptop. In my previous life, Maya had been a peripheral figure, another victim of Riley's subtle social manipulation. But I remembered something important about her—she was brilliant with computers and had once helped the administration trace a hack into the school's grading system.

She could be useful.

I made a mental note to approach her after school, just as Sean detached himself from Riley's group and started walking in my direction. My heart gave a traitorous leap before I ruthlessly squashed it. This wasn't the boy I'd loved. This was the boy who would believe the worst of me without question when Riley's lies took root.

"Hey," he said, sliding into the seat across from me. "Everything okay? Riley seemed pretty upset."

I met his concerned gaze with cool detachment. "I'm sure she'll survive not getting her way for once."

His eyebrows shot up. "That's... not like you, Sam."

"Maybe you don't know me as well as you think." I took a deliberate bite of my apple, watching confusion cloud his features.

"Look, I don't know what's going on between you two, but Riley's been through a lot. Her family situation and everything..." He trailed off, clearly uncomfortable with my unfamiliar demeanor.

I almost laughed. Riley's "difficult family situation" was another carefully constructed lie, designed to elicit sympathy and excuse her behavior. In my past life, I'd discovered too late that her parents were actually wealthy real estate developers who lived in the Gold Coast district.

"I'm sure she has," I said neutrally, gathering my things. "Excuse me, I need to prepare for dance class."

I left him sitting there, bewilderment etched across his handsome face. The Sean I'd loved was still in there somewhere, but his loyalty was compromised. I couldn't trust him—not yet, maybe not ever.

After lunch came dance, the one place I'd always felt truly myself. As I changed into my leotard and tights, I felt a strange calm settle over me. Dance had been my salvation and my downfall in my previous life—my talent had fueled Riley's jealousy, but my passion had kept me going even after everything else was stripped away.

Ms. Hayes, our instructor, watched us warm up at the barre with her usual keen eye. "Extensions higher, Samantha," she called, and I complied automatically, feeling the familiar stretch along my hamstring.

When class ended, I approached her as the other students filtered out, my heart pounding with determination.

"Ms. Hayes? I'd like to change my piece for the winter showcase."

She looked up from her notes, surprised. "Your Odette variation? But you've been perfecting it for months."

"I want to do something different," I said firmly. "Something raw. Something real."

Ms. Hayes studied me for a long moment, her experienced eyes seeming to look straight through me. "What did you have in mind?"

"A contemporary piece. About betrayal. About fighting back."

Something in my voice must have convinced her, because she nodded slowly. "Show me what you're thinking next week. But Samantha..." She hesitated. "Dance is most powerful when it comes from truth. Whatever you're working through... don't hold back."

I nodded, a plan solidifying in my mind. My dance would be my weapon, my shield, my testimony. And Riley Evans would never see it coming.

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