My best friend invited me to go surfing with her.

When we arrived, I discovered that she was actually meeting up with an online friend, and I was just there to support her and help her feel brave.

As I looked at the overcast sky and thought about the potential dangers of meeting a stranger, I urged her not to go.

A month later, entertainment news reported that a young heir from the Lowe family, who has a pink kitten tattoo, gave each of his female companions on the cruise one million.

After confirming multiple times that the online friend my bestie was supposed to meet that day was indeed the Lowe heir, she frantically pushed me into the sea, saying, "If it weren't for you, I would have one million right now!"

Just then, I heard Rachel's voice. "Yolanda, should I go? It can't be a scam, right?"

***

The icy ocean water slapped my face, sending a shiver down my spine.

It was then that I realized I had been reborn.

Gazing out at the boundless sea, the terror of drowning before resurfaced, making me tremble uncontrollably.

"Yolanda, you okay? Why are you shaking?" Rachel's concerned voice reached my ears.

I looked straight at her.

In my previous life, I had been suckered in by Rachel's fake concern.

I thought I had found a true-blue bestie I could bare my soul to.

She invited me to go surfing, and without a second thought I agreed, even offering to pay!

After a few runs, the stern surf instructor asked Rachel if she was some VIP client Ethan invited.

That's when I realized her real motive was to meet up with an online rando, and I was just a last-minute plus-one because she was too chicken to go alone.

I was pissed, but looking at the darkening skies, and our barely-there, bodacious bikinis, I worried meeting this dude could be sketchy.

So I stubbornly insisted we head back.

A month later, news broke that the Lowe family's playboy son had been handing out 100 grand to each girl on his luxury yacht.

Rachel obsessively cross-checked the dates and tats, confirming it was the same day I made her turn back.

The unhinged witch then shoved me off the boat. "This is all your fault! That was a lifetime's worth of cash, and you made me miss it, you evil witch! Drop dead!"

"Hey, are you okay? Why aren't you responding when I talk to you?" Rachel suddenly shoved me.

I instinctively grabbed the soft chair and shouted, "Are you crazy? What if you push me off?"

Seeing me snap at her, Rachel's expression shifted.

She decided to stop asking for my opinion and ordered me to go with her to meet her online friend on the cruise ship.

As the driver of the wave-making boat was about to set off, I yelled, "I'm not going! Take me back to shore first!"

Hearing that I wanted to go back, Rachel's timid side showed again.

She put on an innocent face and pouted, trying to charm me into going with her.

She knew I usually fell for this act, but right now I just felt disgusted.

I pushed her away and said, "Look at the sky; it's about to rain. It's too dangerous, I'm not going."

The weather really did look ominous, and I could see doubt creeping onto Rachel's face.

The stern instructor glanced at us and smirked, "Ladies, don't worry! We know the sea better than you do. The weather will clear up in no time."

I shook my head firmly, signaling that I didn't believe him and insisted on going back to shore.

The driver impatiently urged us to make a decision quickly.

He could only go in one direction, either back to shore or to the cruise ship.

After saying that, he lewdly whistled, "Ladies, that's Mr. Lowe's cruise ship! Get on there, and you could be set for life. Those average girls would kill for a chance like that."

His words sparked a greedy glint in Rachel's eyes.

She grabbed my arm, "Come on, let's go! You can't drive, your phone is dead, and it'd be boring to wait on the shore."

I cursed under my breath; I had drained my phone battery just taking pictures for her.

And I still hadn't gotten my driver's license yet. Even though I owned a car, I couldn't drive it.

I asked Rachel to lend me her phone, but she looked me in the eye and lied, saying she hadn't brought it.

I shook off her hand and rushed to the soft chair, rummaging through her bag until I found her phone. "What's this? A brick?"

With a splash, the instructor tossed the phone into the sea.

I yelled, "Are you out of your mind?"

But Rachel wasn't angry; she just laughed and said, "Well, now your phone is really gone. Just come with me."

The driver and coach burst into laughter.

"Alright, buckle up! We're taking off!" the driver shouted, and the speedboat suddenly lurched forward.

"Stop the boat! Can't you hear me? I want to go back to shore!" I screamed in a panic.

But they completely ignored me, speeding ahead without a care.

The coach, with a dark expression, shamelessly said, "If you're so desperate to go back, why don't you just jump in and swim?"

I was terrified of the ocean, and at this speed and distance from land, jumping in would be suicide.

In the silence that followed, Rachel chimed in with a laugh, "Yolanda, I've never seen anyone jump from a moving boat before! You should totally do it - give us a show of deep-sea fishing!"

Their laughter rang in my ears as the three of them cracked up.

I glanced at the distant cruise ship, tears welling up in my eyes.

Suddenly, a gust of wind swept by, and a bell chimed from the driver's seat.

I eyed the keys, and without a second thought, dashed over and yanked them out.

The engine died, and the sudden loss of power nearly sent us flying.

"Are you trying to kill me?!" the dark-faced coach shouted angrily as he marched toward me.

He reached for the keys, but I quickly shoved them into my mouth.

"If you want to die so badly, I'll make it happen," he said, fuming at my defiance.

He seemed intent on killing me, lifting me up and throwing me out of the speedboat.

I clung desperately to the railing, but he just laughed coldly, knowing I couldn't fight back, and began slapping me across the face.

The sound of the slaps echoed around us, and I felt like my face was going to fall off from the pain.

The driver, who had just slammed into the steering wheel and was now covered in blood, viciously remarked that it was a good hit.

Rachel, swaying unsteadily, stood up and shot me a fierce glare. She rushed over, grabbed my hair, and forced my face up so the coach could hit me better.

"Yolanda, don't blame me. If you're going to blame someone, blame yourself for being so malicious. Do you know that falling in could kill you?"

"You need to learn a lesson to remember this."

I bit down hard on the keys, keeping my mouth shut, and stubbornly stared at the two of them.

Just when I felt like I couldn't hold on any longer, a voice suddenly came over the radio. "Are you sending anyone over? Mr. Lowe is about to close the gate."

The dark-faced coach nodded eagerly, replying that they would be there soon.

He shot me a cold smile and pointed at me, indicating that I was lucky to still be alive.

He quickly shouted into the radio, asking for a rescue boat to come over.

But I couldn't hold on any longer; my hands slowly slipped off the railing.

Just as I was about to throw in the towel completely, the coach slipped a life vest over my head.

I found myself drifting alone on the open sea, that suffocating drowning sensation creeping back up my throat.

I dug my nails into my palms, using the pain to keep myself grounded, to stay present.

Thankfully, the rescue boat arrived quickly. I tossed the coach the key and let the rescue boat haul me aboard, back to solid ground.

As I stumbled off, Rachel called after me.

I turned back with a bitter smirk, my swollen lips barely parting.

"When your phone's charged up again, do me a favor and grab the latest iPhone, okay? I'll come back to get it from you when I'm done having fun."

Heh, if you even make it back at all.

In my past life, I'd shared that viral story about the Lowe family's playboy son showering his date with a million bucks.

Rachel was busy trying to figure out if this Lowe guy was the same dude she'd been chatting with online.

Meanwhile, my girl Jess, who works in media, was filling me in on the juicy backstory.

Turns out, that headline-grabbing stunt was just a smokescreen to distract from the Lowe kid's real crimes.

He did hand out those million-dollar bills, but it was hush money, a twisted apology.

Because three girls died that night, their bodies dumped into the sea by the blackout drunk guys after they were...done playing with them.

The women who boarded that cruise were all lured under the guise of meeting an online match.

When they hit the shore, the surf instructor would take them for a test run first.

Once their makeup was smudged, the surf instructor would check if the girls were still attractive.

When their clothes clung to their bodies, the surf instructor would size up their physiques.

If she could still handle a full lap, she passed the fitness test.

The beauties who made the cut were then escorted to the ship, to become prey for Ethan and his pack.

Some fought back, some begged, some just screamed.

But to those animals, it was music to their ears.

It was a boys' trip, a waking nightmare for the girls.

In my past life, I was about to tell Rachel how lucky we were to have skipped out.

But when I turned around, her face was twisted with rage as she shoved me, hard, into the churning waves.

I stumbled home a hot mess, hair tangled, clothes caked in grime. I probably looked like death warmed over.

Rachel's boyfriend, Shawn, was waiting at my door and jumped about a foot in the air when he saw me.

Lucky for me, my place is a stand-alone, with no nosy neighbors around to gawk at my sorry state.

I had Shawn settle the cab fare, then as soon as it peeled out, he rounded on me. "What the hell happened to you? I've been blowing up Rachel's phone—she said she was coming here. Where is she?"

I ushered him inside, shut the door, then crumpled to the floor, hugging myself as I broke down. "Guys—so many of them. Rachel went off with them. I tried to stop her but they...they jumped me."

Shawn's fist smashed into the painting by the door. He loomed over me, finger jabbing the air. "You're her best friend! How could you just let her go like that? If anything happens to her, you're gonna pay, you hear me?"

After laying down his threat, Shawn stormed out, having gotten the address.

I peeled off my clothes and stood under the hottest water I could stand.

I iced my swollen face, then remembered Jessica saying the cruise ship was supposed to dock at dawn.

I blew up Jessica's phone, then Shawn's, rounding up him and his boy.

We agreed to meet at the docks and wait it out.

As the ship pulled in, my heart pounded in my ears. This was it.

I wish Rachel had sunk to the bottom of the sea, allowing her death to atone for the sins she committed in a past life.

Yet, a part of me also hopes she's alive, enduring countless agonies.

As the cruise ship docked, it had an eerie, abandoned feel to it, with not a soul in sight.

Jessica was the most eager to investigate; she hurried aboard, camera in hand.

Shawn and his buddy followed close behind. Once onboard, I overheard an incredulous voice, "Dude, even the rich know how to party."

"Shawn, is that Rachel? What the—"