The Return (Book One in the 抖阴社区 Featured Return Series)

Chapter One

When she puts the glass back down, she pulls a pack of cigarettes from her bag. I make a face as she starts to light up, but she pretends not to notice. So, I try a more direct approach.

"Take a bite," I encourage as I push the plate towards her again.

Coco blows out a steady stream of smoke and rests the cigarette in the ashtray next to her. She tucks some of her loose hair behind her ears, and looks down at the plate before daintily picking the toast up by its edge. "So, honey, you excited about your birthday?"

I try not to roll my eyes, but 'excited' wouldn't be the word I'd use to describe how I'm feeling. The truth is, I've been waiting for my seventeenth birthday ever since the day I was born. And yes, I realize how frivolous that sounds—like I'm just any other teenage girl impatient to grow up, but that's hardly the case with me.

There's only one reason my seventeenth birthday is so important. Only one reason it holds so much significance: it's the day I meet him. We get to fall in love all over again, and, for those first few moments, I'm at my happiest.

My skin tingles and I pull my eyes from Coco. "It's not that big of a deal," I mumble, shoving the last bit of toast into my mouth and turning towards the sink to dust the crumbs from my hands. I don't want her to read the emotions all over my face, and judging by the warmth in my cheeks, they're plainly visible.

"Not that big of a deal?" Coco lets out a congested laugh. "Why, Eleanor Blackwell you've been counting down the days until you turn seventeen ever since the moment you could talk! It was the funniest thing...."

I glance over at her as she picks up her cigarette and tips her head to the side like she's replaying the memory in her head. "All the girls at the bar used to think you were such a riot!" She chuckles again, taking a drag off her cigarette and letting the smoke billow from her lips as she speaks. "You were so mature for your age..., in such a hurry to grow up. How the hell you came outta me? Ha! I'll never know!"

She shakes her head in amazement and my body stills, hoping this isn't the moment: the one when she realizes there's always been something a little off. Because Coco should have noticed something was off. I mean, if she'd ever bothered to take me to a single doctor's appointment when I was younger, she would've known.

For God's sake! We don't even look alike! I tower over her at 5'7", and the man she claims was my father, the one she's shown me pictures of, he was no taller than 5'5". And he had blonde hair too, just like hers, but my hair is a dark auburn.

I study her as I dry my hands, but she's innocently gone back to picking at her toast. No, today won't be the day. My body unwinds, but I remind myself that I need to start paying closer attention. I have to stay one step ahead of things these next few months, because it'll only make life a lot more complicated if Coco starts questioning everything now.

Later, as I brush my teeth, I stare at my reflection in the mirror, wondering how much I've changed over the last two hundred years. Opening up my towel, I peer down at my body and examine myself with a critical eye. Physically I'm almost exactly the same as I was before—the same long legs, round hips, pointy nose, and hazel eyes—but there are some subtle differences, and if you look closely, you can spot them.

For example, I'm slightly curvier than I was in my first lifetime. I definitely weigh more, and my boobs are a little bigger. Of course, that's probably due to decent nutrition, or something like that. My hair is longer too, similar to how I wore it back in 1870, and, thankfully, light years away from how I wore it the last time. I shudder thinking about the feathered bangs I sported in 1978.

My gaze falls to my left hipbone, down to the small mole that's stayed with me through it all. I study it, hypnotized for a moment as millions of memories crowd my mind. I used to hate that stupid mole; I thought it was ugly, and wanted to get rid of it. It's kind of ironic that now, after all these years, I'm actually comforted by the fact that it's still there.