The Villainess Stole Her Life

I was the villain of the story.

After being forced to play my part in a script I didn’t write, I reached my "scheduled departure." I died.

But then, I opened my eyes and found myself eighteen again.

With tears blurring my vision, I fumbled for my phone and dialed the one person I had spent my entire life trying to outdo. My rival. My shadow.

"Wyatt, I can't find my house. Please, come get me."

Silence—dead, heavy silence—echoed from the other end.

I felt a spark of the old me, the girl who refused to be ignored. "Wyatt! If you don't come right now, I’m telling your parents!