It was a mistake.

It had to be.

She'd heard wrong. Or it was a lie.

A dream. A nightmare. Something.

Because if it was true —

If it was true, and this was reality, there was no going back to the person she'd been. Before.

The plan had worked. Everything had unfolded as she'd imagined it. She'd gotten exactly what she'd wanted. But . . .

She'd made a mistake. A fatal error. Because it hadn't gone exactly as planned, had it?

There was supposed to be humiliation — and there was.

There was supposed to be suffering — and there was.

Everything had gone the way it was supposed to. Except —

No one was supposed to die.