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Eight years in that basement, and I can still smell the mold. Eight years of chains, beatings, and guards who treated me like an animal. The only kindness came from Damian—slipping me bread crusts and whispering, "Hang in there, Grace. I've got you."
I shot him when I escaped. Left him bleeding on that concrete floor without a backward glance. I had to. I was finally free, finally Grace again instead of just another lab rat. I had my Harvard acceptance letter and a future that was mine.
Except it wasn't. My stepsister somehow got hold of my test scores, my achievements, my entire identity. Suddenly, she was the genius heading to Harvard while my parents beamed with pride. "We're so proud of you, sweetheart."
And standing right beside her? Damian. Clean-cut now, designer clothes, playing the perfect "Yale golden boy." But those eyes—I'd know them anywhere. They weren't the dull gray of our captivity anymore. They were sharp, calculating, and fixed right on me.
He'd found me. After everything I'd done to escape him, to escape that life—he was here. The question was: had he come for revenge, or to drag me back into a cage where he was the only key?

Two girls—one white and one black—switch bodies. Can they find common ground?  High school seniors, Natalia Brown and Elizabeth Castillo, live very different lives. Natalia’s wild-girl reputation is legendary, while Elizabeth’s artistic abilities gather dust in the shadows.In a twist of fate, these two very different girls switch bodies. Forced to put their mutual hatred aside, they must work together to convince the world nothing has changed while trying to return themselves to normal. But living in each other's bodies reveals secrets and scars they'd both tried to hide.Will they be able to fool the world and switch back? Or will they both destroy each other's lives before returning to their own? If You Were Me is a heartwarming body-swap novel set in Belize. It explores the meaning of love and the power of friendship.

I was six years old when Mom took my brother and me by the hand, leading us into a mansion that looked like a palace. She told us this was our new beginning, after all the hardships we'd been through. But no one warned me that this so-called better life would mean giving up everything I had.

My scholarships, my prom dress, even my Stanford acceptance letter—they all turned into bargaining chips just to keep my stepfather and his daughter Sienna happy. Then, the night before my wedding, they even asked my fiancé to "temporarily" give himself to her as well.

I've always been the one giving everything, pouring myself out until there's nothing left, yet I've never heard the words, "You're enough." If love means endless sacrifice, why am I never the one on the receiving end?

Maybe only when I vanish completely will they remember my name—for the first and last time.

Ten years of secret love, and what did I get? Watching him fall for another woman at MY art exhibition.

The most ridiculous part? He turned to me and said, "Harper, you have to help me win her over."

I orchestrated their romantic encounters, taught him how to charm women, even told him what flowers she liked. I was the perfect wingman, watching them fall in love while I licked my wounds in the dark.

Until Dr. Avery confronted me with one devastating question: "Do you really think he doesn't know you love him?"

When I finally screamed "I've loved you for ten years!" at Mason, his response froze my blood:

"I know. I've always known."

Turns out, my ten years of devotion were nothing more than a free emotional dumping ground to him—the convenient girl who would never leave. He enjoyed my care while pretending not to see my love, because that was safest, easiest.

Pathetic, right?

A woman wastes ten years loving a man, only to end up pushing him into someone else's arms.

Until Blake appeared.......

At the bar, I watched Ethan get publicly dumped and made a crazy proposal fueled by liquid courage—a three-month fake dating contract.

I thought this was my only chance after twenty years of secret crushing. Until his ex showed me the text: "With Mia? Pretty convenient. She's been following me around since we were kids."

So I was just a tool.

The day we broke up, he shouted with red eyes: "I've been crazy about you for twenty years!" I thought he was acting, until his mom handed me a worn journal—

That careless comment I made at thirteen, "I'm never marrying Ethan," he'd remembered for twenty whole years.

Every page of that diary was filled with my name...

I died clutching our unborn baby's ultrasound photo while he fucked another woman in our marriage bed. But death isn't the end—

I died loving him. When I watched his hands touch her skin, his lips kiss hers where we once swore our vows, love became hatred. Now he'll taste my wrath." Three months pregnant, dying alone, yet forced to watch their moonlit intimacy. I couldn't stop it, couldn't scream—only witness him choose her. But a ghost's fury burns hotter than the moon's light."

He thought I'd vanished, so he welcomed her into our sanctuary without hesitation—playing with the console I gave him, sharing our secrets with her. I watched it all, and hatred consumed what love remained.

I thought death was the cruelest pain, until I saw him tenderly bandaging her wounds, almost kissing her in the place where we pledged our souls. That moment taught me—some agonies transcend death itself.

Three days ago I was his beloved. Now I'm a restless spirit, condemned to witness every touch between them. But they don't know—my hatred burns fiercer than my love ever did.

Eric Kane married me when I was at my most desperate.

Everyone said this Alpha only married me to get revenge for my sister's betrayal.

For three years, I rejected all his marking requests, telling myself this was just a transaction.

Until that phone call came, he died on his way home.

He left me a phone with a video inside.

I gently tapped it open to hear his tender yet desperate voice. He said:
"Tessa, could you love me just a little bit? Even just a little would be enough."
"If there's a next life, maybe you could tell me the answer? Maybe in that life, we could become true mates?"

I killed myself at his grave, but when I opened my eyes again, I found myself lying in my old bed.

And the time on my phone showed eight years before Eric and I got married.

I can't see color.

Red and green are just muddy grayish-brown to me. At art school, this means I'm forever the broken one.

Adrian Hawthorne—my adoptive brother, my protector for fifteen years—he sees every color in the world. While I'm trapped in black, white, and gray.

Until that exhibition night, when I saw him with her.

Celeste. Architect from London. She discusses "cobalt blue transitioning to ultramarine," and his eyes light up. That kind of light—I've never made his eyes do that.

I suddenly understand. Someone as damaged as me, how could I ever stand beside him?

So I secretly applied for a job in New York. Planning to disappear before he has to choose.

Until he discovered my hidden secret—

"So you've been planning to leave all along."

The warmth in his eyes shattered into disappointment.

That's when I realized—some things, once lost, never come back.