Chapter 1

Charlotte's POV

My boyfriend Tyler, his childhood sweetheart Chelsea, and I went on a road trip through the Australian Outback in the Northern Territory.

A few scrawny, yellow-coated dogs lingered by the roadside. Chelsea insisted on getting out to feed them.

I warned her they were dingoes, vicious predators that ruled this desert.

Her eyes welled up and she called me heartless. Tyler jumped in too, saying I grew up with a silver spoon in my mouth, that I didn't get what it was like for regular people, that I couldn't even spare a couple of hot dogs.

She forced the door open and ran out. The pack lunged at her. Her screams tore through the air. Tyler cowered in the car, shaking.

I was the only one who got out to help her.

Chelsea scrambled back into the car, but Tyler slammed the door shut and locked it.

I never forgot his face pressed against the window, terrified and selfish. I never forgot the despair of feeling fangs rip through my throat.

After I died, the two of them flew back to the States and posted a sobbing video, claiming I was the one who'd insisted on getting out to take pictures and set the dogs off.

The online hate came for my family, all of it, all at once. My parents, both with weak hearts, collapsed under the stress. Neither one made it.

My whole family, destroyed because I couldn't stop caring for one second.

When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day the trip started.


"Charlotte, can you unlock the door? Those dogs look so pathetic. I want to go feed them."

A saccharine voice pulls me out of the memory, and my eyes snap open. I gasp for air.

Sunlight blazes through the windshield, stabbing at my eyes.

My hand goes to my throat on instinct. The pain of teeth tearing through it is still sharp, still vivid.

This is real. I actually came back.

Outside the window stretches endless red dirt and low scrub. In the shadows nearby, a few lean, yellow-coated animals pace, watching our car with hungry eyes.

Those aren't dogs. They're dingoes, some of the most cunning predators out here in the desert.

"Charlotte? Why are you spacing out? Come on, unlock it, they're gonna wander off." When I don't respond, Chelsea reaches over and grabs at the passenger door handle.

The memories from my last life flash through my mind, and without hesitating, I hit the lock button, sealing all four doors.

I swallow down the hatred boiling in my chest and turn to give her a cold look.

"What is your problem?!" Chelsea's lip juts out, wounded, and she twists around to look at Tyler in the back seat. "Tyler, look at her. Is she mad at me or something? I just want to feed some strays. Does she have to act like I'm some kind of criminal?"

Tyler's brow furrows immediately. "Charlotte, seriously, what's your deal? Chelsea's just soft-hearted, she can't stand seeing an animal go hungry. You grew up with everything handed to you, maybe you just don't get what it's like to feel for something small and helpless. Just open the door. They're just dogs, what's the worst that could happen?"

Hearing that same tired line again, I almost laugh. Not because anything's funny.

God, what a pair of scumbags.

I can't believe I was ever blind enough to think he had a good heart, that he actually had some kind of moral compass.

"Feel for something small and helpless?" I cross my arms and stare him down. "Tyler, are you actually brain-dead? We're in the middle of the Australian outback. Those aren't strays out there. Those are dingoes."

"They're territorial as hell, and they're probably carrying rabies or some kind of parasite. If you want to die, fine, just don't do it in my car."

"Do you have to be so nasty about it?" Tyler's face flushes red, clearly stung that I made him look bad in front of Chelsea. "She just wants to toss a couple hot dogs out there. Why are you acting like it's life or death? You're just jealous she's got a bigger heart than you."

"A bigger heart?" I let out a mocking laugh and turn to Chelsea. "Chelsea, since you're so full of compassion, why don't you go out there and give them a hug yourself? I won't stop you."

Chelsea shrinks under my stare but won't back down. "Fine, I'll get out! You think I won't? Tyler, open the door for me!"

She keeps yanking at the handle while she says it, eyes darting toward Tyler, clearly waiting for him to smooth things over.

If you two want to be this stupid, I'm not stopping you this time.

"Sure. You want out, go ahead." My mouth curls up, and I roll the passenger window down a third of the way.

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