He cringed, his bottom lip trembling.

I took his face in my hands. “Who knows of your secret, Everest? Your soulmate mark was hidden. Sweyn would not still consider you her ally if she knew you were married to her enemy. I know her enough to know that was not the face of deceit I saw in her. That wasn’t her playing a trick on you. She does not know who Celina was to you⁠—”

“No, she does not,” he whispered.

“So then who could I be if not who I say?”

“What you say is not possible.” His voice broke. “Celina is dead, her body is right there. You cannot be her.”

“I am not her, but I am her.”

He shook his head as fresh tears spilled.

I forced him to look back at me as I still held his face. “I am from the future, Everest.”

He gasped. His eyes widened. “What did you say?”

“You heard me.” I licked my lips and nodded. “I am from the future. My name is Francelina Proctor, and I am eighteen years old. I am sorry this has gone down this way, but I am just as surprised to find myself looking at my own dead body. I did not know I lived a life before the one I have now, but I do know that reincarnation was not only granted to me⁠—”

“Reincarnation?” His eyes searched my face. “That does not⁠—”

“It does. I know of a few who have been reincarnated though I also did not know it applied to me. So, I’m sorry, I know this has to be impossible to believe and it feels wrong to have to be here in this moment when you’ve just lost me. I can’t imagine the pain you’re feeling right now.” I pressed my hands to his chest, right over the heavy thumping of his heart. “But I promise I tell you the truth.”

He just stared at me, tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Gosh, how do I prove this to you.” I pressed my fingers to my eyes when an electric shock zapped my wrist. I held my hand out and found the pink arrow floating above my bracelet pointing behind me. With a frown, I glanced back to find a figure emerging from the shore. I half turned and gripped my bag, ready to pull a weapon out to protect us if I needed to. “Who is that?”

Everest hissed through clenched teeth but said nothing.

The figure moved swiftly towards us. The glow of the funeral pyre shined light on a curved, feminine figure. Long red hair fell in waves down her back and seemed to nearly touch the ground. She wore a crown made of seashells—-actually, her clothes seemed to be made of seashells as well. Her skin shimmered like a pearl or an abalone shell.