I should have told him.

Freezing water drenches my forehead as Elsie presses a wet towel to my skin. I try to push her arm away, but she grabs my shoulders and pins me to the bed. "Let go of me! I have to go find Sen! I have to—" Elsie shoves a spoon of dully-colored liquid at my lips, cutting me off.

"Drink this, my lady," she says calmly, forcing the liquid into my mouth. "It's a tonic to ease the nerves."

The sound of thunder batters at my eardrums as I choke it down. I don't have time for this. Alegreya isn't dead yet, which means I can still save her—and all the others after her. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot the clock on my nightstand: 5:04 a.m. It's already been over fifteen minutes since I woke up, and my back still feels like it's throbbing from the knife that stabbed me to my death moments before I found myself here, on a date six months before the first murder by Elsie's word. If only I had told Sen what I'd seen. Maybe then, I wouldn't have died at the hands of a killer I still don't know the identity of.

Elsie leans over and grabs a cloth, dabbing spilled liquid from the corners of my mouth. My heart races in my chest. "Elsie," I gasp, grabbing her apron as she lifts another spoonful of tonic to my lips. I gulp down the liquid, panting. "I need you to send for Sen! I-I need you to bring him here." I wipe my mouth with the sleeve of my nightgown.

Elsie untangles my fingers from her apron with difficulty. "My lady, you're just delirious from lack of sleep," she says gently. "We don't know anyone named Sen."

It takes me a moment to comprehend her words before the truth crashes over me in a stifling wave of despair. Sen doesn't know me. For the first few minutes of my new life, I’ve been blind. Tears well in my eyes before I can stop them, spilling over the sides of my face. Sen and I haven't met yet. He won’t know me until Alegreya dies. I start to sob.

"Oh, don't cry, my lady!" Elsie desperately dabs at my tears with a handkerchief. "Was it a bad dream, my lady? Please don't cry!"

All I could think of until now was how I've been given the chance to change the fates of the family and friends I lost. It didn't even occur to me that Sen, the person who stood by me through all the heartache I endured in my past life, the person who promised to avenge the deaths that had scarred me, the person who I had sworn to spend the rest of my life with, is now no more than a stranger.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

I need to do something.  I need to bring him back to me. We were married; we were going to start a family. In one night, all of that disappeared.

No, what am I thinking? The lives of so many people I love are about to be stolen. Even if I don't have his love, I'm still going to need his help as an inspector. But how can I convince him to help me when I don’t have any evidence that any murder is going to happen?

And then, a singular idea overtakes my mind: Would Sen believe me if I told him I've reincarnated? If I can somehow prove that I know what will happen in the future?

I grab Elsie's wrist. "Help me get dressed."

Elsie's face is covered in questions, but I scramble out of bed and stagger to my closet. Although this body is over a year younger than my brain, it really hasn't changed much. I glance back at Elsie, who's still standing bewildered by the bed. "Come on! I need to sneak out."

"But my lady—" begins Elsie, but I yank open the doors of my closet and cut her off. "If you won't help me, I'll dress myself."

I throw on a plain satin gown and leather boots. Elsie hurries to run a comb through my hair a few times, but my wavy blonde locks retain a number of stubborn snarls. I soak a hand towel and run it twice over my face before I'm out the door.

The halls of Wittgenstein Manor are silent and dark, rectangles of early morning sunlight tracing swiftly-vanishing raindrops from the windows onto the carpeted floor. Elsie keeps watch at every corner as I make my way to the servants' door at the end of the west wing. Then, making sure to tiptoe as I pass the servants' bedrooms, I slip into the kitchen and out the back door.

Both the front and back gates of the house are guarded, but there's a shrub in the hidden garden on the east side of the house with a gap large enough to fit a grown person. Once outside, I follow a route that's long since become very familiar to me, passing by the bakery, two bookshops, a dress emporium, and a sword dealer. The streets are sparse as I pass through the village, past the smaller, densely-arranged houses to the more spacious homes scattered across a field beyond.

Sen's house is the same as I remember—dark brown wood with a small white gate encircling it. The small front porch encases a faded birch door. My hand pauses in front of the door. What am I going to do if he doesn't believe me?

I close my fingers into a fist. If I don't make this quick, someone back at the manor will notice I'm gone. Sucking in a deep breath, I knock on the door.

The door swings open. A thin linen shirt clings to Sen’s chest as the first rays of dawn kiss the beads of water dressing his hair. His soft violet eyes meet mine, and it’s like love at first sight all over again.