“Estelle!”

Miss Durant, she wanted to correct. Only my friends can call me Estelle, she would explain, her face apologetic. It helps keep my work and personal life separate. I’m sure you understand.

“Estelleeeee!”

She went to speak, but she couldn’t move her mouth. It was heavy and slack. Her teeth felt wrong. She tried to move her dominant hand, but she didn’t seem to have control of it anymore.

Her entire body was buzzing. Jittery, and wracked with shivers.

Where was she again?

The someone calling out to her sounded familiar, somehow. But the voice was muffled and garbled, like she was hearing it through thick glass.

Was she underwater? In a dream? Something else entirely?

And who was that?

Estelle scrunched her eyes shut harder, the one hand that worked flying to her face to cup her suddenly throbbing head. The numbness in her fingers and feet started fading next, prickling nothingness giving way to something much crueler.

Not a dream, then. Dreams didn’t hurt like this.

Lances of sharp, stabbing pain shot fiercely down every limb. It felt like the wounds were coming from the inside, shards of bone splintering and protruding through her flesh like macabre accessories.

Could that kind of damage ever be fixed?

She made a noise that she wasn’t quite sure was human, curling in further on herself, every joint screaming out in protest. The muscle and tendons tore and bent and snapped with the movement, giving way to an unnatural twitching.

No. No, no no no no.

Her head was cold and lopsided, too. But beneath, there was something warm and tacky. She thought maybe she was on tile. Stone? Was it blood that leaked out beneath her?

“Estelle —” the voice was almost sing-songy now. Happy-go-lucky. Feminine. It was getting clearer and clearer by the second. “You need to get up. You have your first Sunny Afternoons shoot today and you know how the director gets when someone is even a minute late. Erika warned us. I’m going to get chewed out if you make a bad impression.”

Estelle wanted to throw up. Her entire body felt like it had been shaken, sanded raw and launched from a very high place. Nerves she didn’t know she had screamed out to her, begging for relief she wasn’t sure how to give them.

She had the sudden, unbearable urge to give up. To let go.

Anything to make it stop. I’ll do or say whatever you want. I’ll be better. I’ll…I’ll…

Maybe a braver person would have fought, but Estelle was tired of hurting. Lonely, and angry, and jaded. She thought that fame would fill up the emptiness inside. Instead, it had only grown bigger and hungrier.

I’d do it all better if I could.

She felt immediate peace at the acceptance. Like she had made the right choice.

Something else—someone, else—sighed with a contentment she didn’t understand.

Then, just as quickly as it had come, the pain dissolved all at once.

It felt like ecstasy, to be relieved of that agony.

Now, all she could feel was the cool face of a scratchy pillow beneath her ear, and the frigid cold of air conditioning on her bare legs.

Where was she? Had she not died?

She pried her eyes open and blinked.

It was mid-morning if the sun was anything to go by. She was in a pair of corduroy overalls and a loose t-shirt, laying sideways on a plaid couch that she’d gotten from her older sister.

Beside her, someone was smiling. Big, and bright, and unburdened by life.

“Bellamy?”

But that wasn’t right. It couldn’t be Bellamy. She hadn’t seen her for years. They’d lost touch after Bell had gone home to care for her ailing father.

When he’d passed, Bellamy had taken over the family diner to support her mother and sisters. The movie business didn’t have much work in Georgia, and Estelle wasn’t enough of a success to send money to Bell’s family in Bellamy’s place. Not then.

Still, the person in front of her certainly looked like Bellamy. High cheekbones, long, curly blond hair and dense freckles across every inch of her nose and cheeks.

“You’re clearly still out of it.” Bellamy rolled her eyes and tossed Estelle a miniature bottle of water from her purse. The fact that she caught it was a miracle, and one she didn’t think she could repeat. Estelle looked down at her hands, then at her blunt, natural nails. She curled her fingers once. Then twice. Bellamy watched her with amusement. “I know your schedule’s been crazy, but come on. You think you’d recognize your own manager.”

Estelle balked. She opened and closed her mouth a few times before she could finally speak. “How are you here? My manager? You haven’t worked for me in years.”

“What do you mean? You gave me a key eons ago.” Bellamy tapped the side of her head. “Come on Estelle, you’ve always had a good memory. I thought you told me you’d try to get decent sleep last night. Are you having nightmares or something?”

Last night?

The memory struck her so suddenly she felt like her mind was being torn in two.

Julian’s. The candle. That horrid foreboding feeling as she’d tried to flee. The stairs.

She launched herself from the sofa, scrambling to find a mirror so she could see her face.

But her face, that bone-splintering feeling…

How badly had that fall bruised her? How had she even gotten home? Makeup was going to chew her out if she was covered in bruises. The last thing she needed was something like this leaking to the press and raising questions.

She stumbled into the bathroom, flipping on the light.

Except…

This wasn’t her bathroom.

At least, not anymore. She hadn’t been a resident in this apartment for at least three years. The building had been bought out by a property developer to turn into a hotel, and she’d taken it as a chance to get out of her lease and upgrade.

She glanced in the mirror and she could feel and see the color drain from her face.

Her hair was all the way to her waist, bangs framing her cheeks, a barrette hanging on by a thread beside her ear, like she’d fallen asleep on it.

“What the hell,” she murmured. She touched her face, youthful and pale, and then the mirror. It felt cold and solid beneath her fingertips.

She stuck her head out into the hallway. “Bellamy, how long was I asleep? Did you come all the way out here to take care of me? Was I in the hospital? How much did I miss?”

“Estelle, slow down. What are you talking about?” Bellamy looked at her quizzically. “Are you doing a bit? Or preparing for another audition? You literally just booked Sunny Afternoons. Let me in on whatever this is, it’s starting to freak me out.”

You think it’s freaking you out?

She rushed back into the living room, holding out her hand. She wiggled her fingers and cleared her throat. “Bellamy, give me your phone.”

“Huh? Use your own!”

“I don’t know where mine is!” Or which one it is. “Please!”

Bellamy furrowed her brow but handed it over. It was an old model, bedazzled case and all, with a heart charm hanging from the side. Estelle quickly went to the browser and searched her own name.

The headlines made no sense.

Rookie Actress Estelle Durant lands lead role on Sunny Afternoons

Young Up-and-Comer Gets Surprise Award Nod

“You said I have filming for…Sunny Afternoons today?”

“Yep!” Bellamy grinned. She was still watching Estelle with something nervous and concerned in her eyes. “Your first shoot as a lead. You’re really blowing up now! My little actress is all grown up.”

But Sunny Afternoons had wrapped forever ago. It had been released. It had gotten decent reviews, and an impressive viewer share. It was over.

Estelle navigated to Bellamy’s calendar, her hands shaking. She gripped the phone so hard that her knuckles went white.

The hair. The filming schedule. This apartment. Bellamy.

It all said one thing. One impossible, ridiculous thing.

She clicked the calendar icon and sucked in a breath.

She had seen this all before. Had lived this all before. It was a fight she’d fought valiantly, and one she’d won once already.

The fight to the top.

She looked at the calendar, and if she thought she was pale before, it was nothing compared to how her face must have looked right now.

Because it was still April. The beautiful, blossoming crux of springtime.

But it wasn’t the April she remembered.

It was April of five years ago.