Reborn as the Fake Heiress
Chapter 3
Pain. That was the first thing Katherine braced for.
The screech of tires, the impact, her body slamming against cold asphalt- it had all stayed so vivid that when consciousness returned, she instinctively braced for agony. Her hands flew to her chest, her ribs, her stomach, searching for shattered bone and blood-soaked bandages.
There was nothing. Not a single injury.
Her breathing quickened. She pushed herself upright so fast the blanket slid off her lap. Apart from a lingering weakness in her limbs, her body felt normal.
The room around her was quiet, washed in soft morning light. A small hospital room. White curtains swayed beside an open window, carrying the scent of fresh rain instead of disinfectant. A heart monitor beeped steadily in the silence.
Before she could make sense of any of it, the door opened. “Oh, you’re awake!”
A nurse hurried in, relieved. “You gave everyone quite a scare. Your fever finally broke.”
Fever? Katherine stared at her blankly.
The nurse checked the monitor, talking as she worked. “You’ve been unconscious for a full day. Your mother’s been calling every few hours for updates. I imagine she’ll finally sleep tonight.”
Katherine frowned. “I’m sorry. What did you just say?”
The nurse looked puzzled. “Your fever?”
“No.” Katherine shook her head. “Before that.”
“That you’ve been unconscious?”
“No.” She gripped the blanket tighter. “I was hit by a car.”
The cheerful air in the room disappeared.
The nurse’s smile faltered. “…Excuse me?”
“A car, a truck, something.” Katherine’s voice climbed, urgent now. “I remember the accident. I remember the headlights. I remember…” Her breathing turned uneven. “Where’s the surgeon? Was anyone else hurt? How long have I been here?”
The nurse didn’t answer. She pressed the call button beside the bed instead.
Within minutes a doctor arrived, another nurse close behind. They examined her carefully, asked gentle questions. What was her name. Did she know where she was. What day did she think it was.
Every answer she gave only deepened the concern on their faces.
“There’s no sign of physical trauma,” the doctor finally said. “Miss Hart, you were admitted for a severe viral fever. You’ve never had surgery.”
“That’s impossible.”
“It’s what’s recorded.”
“I was hit by a car.”
“There are no police reports of it.”
“My family…”
“A friend brought you in. Your fever wouldn’t come down.”
Katherine looked from face to face, searching for someone who would admit this was all a misunderstanding.
No one did. Eventually the doctor suggested she rest, and led the nurses out, closing the door behind them.
Silence swallowed the room. Katherine sat motionless, her pulse hammering.
Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. Her eyes drifted to the bedside table.
A phone sat beside a glass of water. She reached for it almost without thinking. It felt strangely familiar. Too familiar. When the screen lit up, her fingers went still.
It wasn’t her current wallpaper. It was an old photo, one she’d used years ago, before she changed it after graduation.
Her throat tightened. She tried the current passcode. It failed. She tried an old one instead, one she hadn’t used in years, and the phone unlocked.
Every message was old. Every contact belonged to another version of her life. Conversations she’d forgotten filled the screen.
People she hadn’t spoken to in years were still chatting as though nothing had happened. Her pulse quickened.
“This…” She opened her social media.
Old profile pictures. Old posts. Unfinished university assignments still sat in her drafts.
Her breathing went shallow. “No…”
The phone buzzed in her hand. Mom Calling. Her heart nearly stopped. With trembling fingers, she answered.
“Katherine!”
Amelia’s voice burst through the speaker, so full of energy that Katherine nearly dropped the phone.
“You finally answered! Do you know how worried you made everyone? I told you that fever wasn’t normal.” Katherine couldn’t speak. She closed her eyes.
The last time she’d heard this voice, it had been broken, exhausted, filled with a grief that had almost curdled into hate. Now Amelia sounded years younger. Happy. Completely unaware that anything terrible had ever happened.
“Katherine?” Amelia laughed softly. “Don’t tell me you’re still half asleep.”
“M… Mom?”
“What is it?”
Katherine swallowed hard. “You…” Her voice cracked. “You sound…”
“I sound what?”
“…Fine.” There was a brief silence before Amelia laughed again.
“What an odd thing to say.” She kept talking, oblivious. “Anyway, don’t stay in the hospital longer than you need to. Your birthday’s only a few days away, and you promised you’d come home.”
Birthday.
The word echoed inside Katherine’s mind.
“I’ve already told Richard to arrange dinner,” Amelia went on happily. “He wants you to meet an old friend’s son. Apparently they’ve been trying to introduce you for months.”
Katherine wasn’t listening anymore. “His name is Soron Stan.”
The phone slipped from Katherine’s hand and struck the floor with a sharp crack.
She grabbed it back with trembling fingers and opened the calendar. The date on the screen refused to make sense.
June 18th. Four years earlier. Exactly four years before the night she died.
She stared at it until her vision blurred. She hadn’t met Soron yet. Joanna hadn’t appeared yet. She hadn’t been declared the fake heiress. She hadn’t died.
None of it had happened yet.
A violent shiver ran through her as one impossible truth settled into her heart.
She had come back.
Four years too soon.
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