You would think dying would be painless or excruciating. No real in-between before the great oblivion. Instead, Hannah Kerr felt as if she was floating above her own body, still tethered to her yellow business suit and black heels. No ring as she had already tossed it into a cup holder before the accident. Blood was soaking the brown bun she had put her hair in. The car was about to catch on fire any moment after the car tire had blown and made her crash into a tree, and yet there was just a dull ache. 

Her mother was right. This was an awful look for her. It didn’t suit her at all. The developers just a half a block away would probably be the first ones to see and hear the fire and find her like this. She knew her father liked to call her his little spud… but did she have to end up looking like a baked potato in her final moments?

At least she wouldn’t be wearing the ring at the time of death. That was good, right? She only wished she could have gone back knowing what she knew now. Stop some of the plots. Some of the drama. Maybe get that dog she wanted in the first place.

“Shit… Dr. Fry will be so worried.” She mumbled to herself as she looked back towards the city. 

The city where her therapist was probably relaxing for the day, proud of the breakthrough Hannah had just that day. A breakthrough that happened in part because she found out the truth about her family. About how her brothers worked against her and sabotaged her. How her mother despised her. How her husband made sure they wouldn’t have kids and attempted to get her wealth. How the maid really was taking some of the cookies each night.

Maybe that last one wasn’t as important, especially in the grand scheme of things, but it was driving Hannah just a bit nuts. If the maid had just asked, Hannah would have gotten Sara her own new tin of cookies to keep. 

Before Hannah could obsess on the loss of cookies, she noticed a bright light coming from behind her. Oh right. Dying. That was probably the light, right? Maybe she could see her dad again. He was the owner of an international tech company, but he wasn’t that bad of a guy. Well, as far as anyone that invested heavily in capitalism could be anyway. Maybe there was like… a low tier heaven for people like her and her father. A “you weren’t that bad for a rich person” one.

Hannah turned to the light and took a… not a deep breath. Her body was barely holding on as it was. And technically she wasn’t even in her body, just tied to it. Though the tether felt very fragile now. 

“Ok. I’m ready.” 

She started swimming towards the light and quickly found she wasn’t going anywhere. Hannah tried a doggy paddle. A breaststroke. The butterfly. Nothing was moving her closer to the light. After a small huff she looked back at her body. 

“Great. In life I took six years of therapy to figure out how my family was ruining my life. In death I'm probably going to take a hundred just to move five steps to the light.” She moaned. 

Her body, of course, said nothing. The car did finally explode into flames. Hannah chose to take that as the universe sympathizing and trying to make things go faster. Especially since the light was getting brighter. Hannah looked back in the hope it was getting closer. Maybe there was some sort of afterlife pick up system. 

Instead, there was just a wave of light rushing towards her and sending her flying backwards through reality. As she flew back, Hannah could see and feel all the past moments of her life. The last five years of wasted time and energy towards those working against her. Against her father’s legacy. Of lost chances at truly kind and gentle love.

“If I only knew back then what I know now.” Hannah blocked out the visions and sounds and focused on the soft pink couch with the red beaded pillows she loved so much. The only room she felt safe in. Not spied on. Where she could wear her silly blue cloud sweatpants and pink oversized shirt she loved for therapy sessions. Before her husband threw them out.

“And what is it you know now that you didn’t back then, Hannah?” A soothing voice spoke up.” Did you learn something since our Saturday session?”

Hannah felt heavy again. She could feel her toes wiggling in sneakers instead of those expensive suffocating heels. Her hair was still in the tight bun, pulling at her scalp like it was trying to escape. She had the long, manicured nails with French tips she hated.

Wait. She didn’t have French tips. In fact, as soon as she realized the truth she had trimmed her nails to stubs. She almost wanted to see if there were any clippers around right now. Looking at the way the nails were done bothered her, as they were only done for Chip’s enjoyment.

As Hannah opened her eyes, she could see Dr. Fry sitting across from her, the warm comforting smile in blue lipstick she always wore. But more important was the hair and the jacket. Dr. Fry had a pink leather jacket she stopped wearing about 9 months into the sessions with Hannah. A dress code change. The hair? Was currently mid back and done in rainbow streaks. She firmly believed in people expressing themselves freely. She had even encouraged Hannah to dye her own hair as a form of self-expression, even if her, at the time fiancé, Chip Smith hated the idea.

Dr. Fry was sitting there. Waiting for an answer. She always gave Hannah plenty of time to answer as she saw fit. Julienne Fry was one of the only people in the world Hannah could trust. Someone who would never act like she was losing her mind or that her feelings weren’t right. Julienne would always have her back. Encouraging her to try things. Sure, not everything worked. But that wasn’t the doctor’s fault. There were outside factors.

“I… have learned so much.” Hannah sat up straight. “I learned Chip was lying to me. I learned my mother wants to take the company away from me. I learned my brothers are assholes who were letting it happen to me.”

Dr. Fry was taking some notes while maintaining eye contact. Hannah could never figure out how she did that.

“I see and-”

“No. Julienne I need to say all of this. Attempts on my life may have been made. Attempts to get me institutionalized. Attempts to steal and alter my projects. The McKinley project alone nearly cost me everything! They only let it slide because the board assumed it was from me still grieving.” Hannah felt her voice getting louder, higher, angrier.

She never could raise her voice around anyone besides her therapist and that was only in the last few months. But…

“Hannah… you said you only started that project. That it wouldn’t be ready for another five months. Did something happen already?” Dr Fry’s voice was a mix of worry and concern.

Meanwhile, everything was crystalizing for Hannah. Maybe there wasn’t a heaven for reasonably ok capitalists. Maybe there was a chance to make things better instead.

This was only nine months after her father’s death. Eight months since starting therapy. Seven months since she took over. Three months before the wedding. The critical point where so many dominos started falling into place to ruin Hannah’s life. Somehow, someway, the universe sent Hannah back to the one place she wasn’t spied on. The one person that might be able to help her. And the moment she could fight and maybe take out most of the problems.

And maybe be able to get Sara her own tin of cookies. She started about now if Hannah recalled. Or was it next month? Five years ago was a long time, to be fair. It’s not like she had a picture-perfect memory. She started to pace back and forth, her hands moving wildly as she spoke.

“No, it didn’t. Not yet. But it will. It will go and happen and then I’ll die. After being abused and treated like shit. And I’m not shit!” Hannah said firmly. “I am a person who deserved the love my father gave. That my brothers seemed to have for me when we were kids.”

“That’s right, I’m glad-”

Hannah interrupted. “I mean I could have worked harder the last five years to give our company’s workers what they deserved. I listened way too much to mother and the shareholders. But that’s something I can fix now. I have a second chance right now.”

As Hannah slammed her fist into her hand and turned to face the doctor, Dr. Fry spoke up. “Hannah… what happened? I’m glad to see this level of self-worth but that doesn’t happen in just two days.”

Right. This was when Hannah was seeing the good doctor every Saturday, Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Four days was a lot, but Hannah had really felt like she needed the extra support. She only cut back when she overheard her mother talking about getting her ‘full time’ help. 

“What happened? My car blew up half a block away from a research center my father runs that does some sort of experiential tech. I died. My soul got sent back five years into the past, to you.”

Dr Fry slowly set down the pen and pad, keeping eye contact. “I see. And this just now happened?”

“Yes! I mean. It will happen? Maybe? I mean I died and came back here. That has to mean something right. That you can help me.” Hannah took Dr. Fry’s hands into her own. “Because you believe me, right?”

“Hannah.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you remember what we were talking about at the start of the session?” Dr. Fry spoke softly as she looked at the clasped hands.

“I uh. No. No I don’t.” Hannah started to pull away. She was so caught up she didn’t even think about how this would look and sound.

“You’ve been struggling with touching anyone lately. You said you felt guilty. Unworthy.” Dr. Fry’s green eyes were now looking into Hannah’s soft brown ones. “You winced at me even offering you a potato candy earlier.”

The session floated back up to Hannah’s memory. Right. Around now was when her mother and brothers started getting in her head about germs and such. It was why she hired the new maid. She had been going through maids like crazy at that point. Most of them quitting because she wanted it so clean.

“I… yeah. That… that was a thing, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, it was.” Dr. Fry pulled back her hands and looked more serious. “So, I need to know exactly what is going on so I can help you properly.”