Before Catherine could look closer, her pulse spiked, too fast and too sudden. Her chest constricted. Her breath turned shallow, uneven.
She knew what it was. She would never escape it in this life.
Just like clockwork, she thought, watching rain streak down the glass like threads of silver.
A panic attack.
She refused to let it show. Not in front of Maximilian. He could never be allowed to learn her weaknesses.
"Excuse ," she said evenly.
She set her napkin down with deliberate calm, rose from her seat, and walked toward the restroom, her fingers clenched around the phone hanging from her neck, as if it were the only thing anchoring her to the present.
The mont she entered, her composure shattered.
She collapsed onto the couch, clutching her chest. Her heart thundered so violently that she was certain it would give out. For a terrifying second, she truly believed she was going to die.
But she knew better.
No one died from a panic attack.
This was her body misfiring, an alarm screaming danger where none existed.
She pressed a hand to her sternum and began the breathing exercises. Slow inhale. Hold. Long exhale. She grounded herself and counted what she could see, feel, and hear.
In her past life, she had faced armies and assassins. In this one, her own body had beco her enemy.
Usually, it eased quickly. This ti, nothing worked.
Is it because of him?
She leaned forward, elbows braced on her knees, fighting for control... When the door opened.
Catherine jolted.
It was the woman she had noticed earlier. The one watching. The spy.
Her fingers fumbled for her phone. After the incident that other night, she was not going to take any chances. But the woman quickly removed her dark face mask and knelt in front of her.
"Dr. Preston," she said softly. "Are you okay?"
Catherine forced herself to breathe in, held it for a few seconds, then let it out slowly.
Sothing about the woman’s voice was grounding. Steady. Familiar.
Her breathing evened.
"...Beatrice?" Catherine said, recognition flickering through the haze.
This was the intern from Helios Biotek. The talented one. The respectful one. The one she liked.
"What are you doing here?"
The woman smiled, unfazed by Catherine’s skepticism. "I’m glad you’re okay. Shall I bring you so water?" she asked, already rising.
Catherine caught her hand. "No. Thank you. I’m fine, Beatrice."
She hesitated, sensing sothing.
The woman scratched the back of her head awkwardly, removing the baseball cap she wore. "I’ve wanted to say this for a long ti... I’m sorry, Dr. Preston. My na isn’t Beatrice. It’s Bernice. Bernice Watson."
Catherine’s heart skipped.
Bernice.
In her past life, Lady Bernice had been her lady-in-waiting.
When Catherine had been pregnant with her first child, traveling from Velmont to Elyndra, there was an ambush by Maximilian’s army. It was a moonless night and chaos ensued.
Lady Bernice had taken Catherine’s cloak and fled into the woods. The soldiers followed her, mistaking her for Katerina.
Lady Bernice died that night.
Katerina lived.
With trembling hands, Catherine reached up and removed the thick glasses from Bernice’s face. She had worked with her for nearly a year. And yet, it was as if she had never truly seen her before. It was as if a veil was lifted from her eyes only now.
The resemblance struck her like a blow. The sa gentle eyes. The sa quiet strength.
Could she be...?
Bernice smiled, unaware of the storm behind Catherine’s reddened gaze.
"You bought these glasses," she said shyly. "Do you rember?"
A faint blush rose on her cheeks as she recalled how Catherine had noticed her struggling at the microscope, how she had taken her to an ophthalmologist without a word, without making it a favor.
Catherine might have gotten her na wrong ever since she joined. But she was kind. She was fair. And most importantly, she had never looked down on her, just because she was poor.
Not even once.
"What are you doing here?" Catherine asked, forcing herself to take in the flood of emotions without letting them surface.
Yet the question lingered beneath it.
If Maximilian was here... and Bernice was here... then who else had returned?
She wasn’t ready.
The people she had loved had left her in the most brutal ways, all because of Maximilian. And the people she hated...
The one she hated...
She wanted to face no one.
It seed that no one rembered their past lives except her. Perhaps Maximilian hadn’t been lying after all. Bernice didn’t rember. That much was clear.
"Dr. Preston," Bernice whispered conspiratorially, leaning closer, "Dr. Vale and Dr. Renfield are trying to sell your research to BioQuant."
Catherine stilled.
"That’s why they locked you out. I wanted to tell you before—"
"BioQuant?" Catherine’s brows lifted.
"It’s under wraps," Bernice said quickly. "But BioQuant Pharmaceuticals is setting up a new R&D division. Those two are planning to sell your work to buy their way onto the board."
Catherine exhaled slowly.
So that was it.
No wonder Ashley had been so confident. She had Big Pharma backing her.
But...
"How did you find all this out?" Catherine asked.
Bernice smiled, almost sheepishly. "No one ever notices , Dr. Preston. It’s my superpower." Then, proudly, "Don’t worry. I’ll stay inside and be your little spy."
Catherine pressed a hand to her cheek. "Don’t say that. And don’t get yourself involved. This could turn dangerous."
With Big Pharma involved, and a potential Alzheir’s cure on the line, it would turn dangerous.
"I’ll do anything for you, Dr. Preston," Bernice said, smiling as she put her hat and glasses back on.
She slipped a small piece of paper into Catherine’s hand.
"Your login password," she said with a cheeky grin. "It’s your research. You can sha them properly."
"Bernice, if you keep doing this—"
"As I said," Bernice interrupted gently, already pulling her mask back into place, "I’ll do anything for you."
And then she was gone.
Catherine stared at the scrap of paper before folding it carefully and slipping it into her pocket.
Please, stay safe, she thought.
She leaned back against the couch and closed her eyes, breathing slowly.
The intern she had once thought was timid, just now, spoke the exact sa words her courageous lady-in-waiting had spoken in another life.
Maybe reincarnation doesn’t change the core of a soul.
And if that was true...
Then Maximilian, behind the glasses and tweed coat... was the sa man she had once feared. Or worse... he was the sa man, wearing a gentler mask.
She needed to stay away from him.
No matter how gentle his touch felt.
No matter how sincere his voice sounded.
Catherine walked out of the restroom, focused, gathering the words she needed to speak to Maximilian.
But when she stepped out of the restroom, the room had changed.
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