Chapter 93 - New Names
I rebuilt slower than I could have.
That was intentional.
Not slow.
Just—
not reckless.
There was a difference.
I already knew how to move fast.
I knew how to price better.
How to structure orders.
How to avoid cash-flow stupidity.
When deposits mattered.
When rush fees should hurt enough to actually compensate for rush.
How to stop taking every customer request personally.
How to build production before volume became chaos.
I could have skipped several years of learning.
That did not mean I needed to skip every stage of growth.
Current demand first.
Current people.
Current information.
Very mature.
Annoying.
The first thing I fixed was pricing.
Again.
Old numbers.
Old margins.
Old habit of mentally treating my own labor as free.
Absolutely not.
I recalculated.
Materials.
Ink.
Waste.
Labor.
Machine time.
Overhead.
Actual profit.
Then I looked at some of the prices twenty-three-year-old me had been charging.
"No wonder."
Mama passed behind me.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"You keep saying nothing."
Apparently everyone in every life had agreed to attack me with that sentence.
"I'm fixing prices."
"Higher?"
"Yes."
"Customers will complain."
"Yes."
"You okay with that?"
"Yes."
Mama stopped.
Looked at me.
"You really changed."
There it was again.
I smiled faintly.
"Maybe I learned."
She continued walking.
If only she knew how much tuition the universe had collected.
Orders did not disappear.
Some customers complained.
A few left.
Fine.
Others stayed.
New ones came.
Better.
Within two months, I had enough work that I needed help.
Not someday.
Actually needed.
I stared at the workload.
Then at the note I had written after waking up.
DO NOT RECREATE PEOPLE.
Good.
Easy.
Except apparently my brain had other plans.
The first applicant's name was Anna.
I stared at the resume.
No.
Absolutely not.
Not because she had done anything wrong.
Current Anna was probably lovely.
Maybe even qualified.
That was exactly the problem.
My brain had already supplied another woman.
Production floor.
Years of trust.
Leadership.
Growth.
I closed my eyes.
"Fuck."
This was going to be harder than expected.
I still interviewed her.
Important.
Current information.
She was twenty-three.
Different surname.
Different experience.
Different personality.
Talkative.
More confident than the Anna I remembered hiring in the last life.
She was decent.
Maybe good.
But not the best candidate.
That helped.
I thanked her.
Moved on.
No cosmic message.
No recreation.
Just applicant.
Good.
The person I hired first was Rina.
Twenty-four.
Fast with repetitive work.
Good attention to detail.
Asked whether I had standard procedures or whether I expected her to "figure it out."
Excellent question.
"I have procedures."
She looked relieved.
"You update them?"
"Yes."
"Good."
Hired.
Not Anna.
Not replacement Anna.
Rina.
Current person.
Own skills.
Own future.
I wrote that mentally several times until my damaged brain accepted it.
Next came Lea.
Different spelling.
Still mildly offensive to my nervous system.
Customer support.
Friendly without sounding fake.
Could handle an irritated buyer without apologizing seventeen times for something that wasn't our fault.
Good.
Then Camille.
Inventory and packing.
Organized.
Quiet.
Caught a wrong count during the practical test.
Good.
Then Jessa.
Production support.
Not as fast as Rina.
More careful.
Different strength.
Also good.
Four people.
New names.
New rhythm.
No Mae.
No Jenny.
No Carla.
No Grace.
No Joy.
That hurt in small ways.
Every time somebody did something differently from the old team, my brain tried to compare.
Mae would have phrased that better.
Jenny would have caught that earlier.
Carla would have arranged this differently.
Stop.
Current people were not failed versions of old employees.
They had never agreed to compete with ghosts.
That became another rule.
NO SECRET COMPARISONS.
I wrote that one down too.
Very healthy.
Extremely normal founder behavior.
Rina learned quickly.
Lea talked to customers in a way I never would.
Camille reorganized a shelf system I had already planned and somehow improved it.
That one bothered me for three seconds.
Then impressed me.
"Why this way?"
She showed me.
Less walking.
Faster access.
Better grouping by usage frequency.
I stared.
"Keep it."
She blinked.
"Okay."
Then smiled slightly.
Good.
Different did not mean worse.
Useful lesson.
Again.
Business grew.
Not explosively yet.
Steadily.
Schools.
Small companies.
Events.
Personalized orders.
Repeat customers.
Some old client types.
Some new.
I started noticing opportunities the old businesses had never taken because the market sequence was already changing.
Current demand.
There.
Proof.
The exact old path would have been stupid.
Same starting point.
Different world.
Good.
Jane and Chloe kept inviting me out.
Not constantly.
Enough.
At first I expected every invitation to feel dangerous.
It didn't.
Mostly.
Sometimes it just felt nice.
Three friends.
Food.
Coffee.
Old stories.
Current complaints.
No dates.
No Miguel.
No breakup.
No wedding.
Nothing complicated unless my brain decided to become haunted.
Which it did.
Frequently.
One Friday, Chloe messaged—
Chloe: dinner
Lia: when
Chloe: tonight
Lia: excellent planning
Chloe: 7
Then—
Chloe: jane coming
I stared at that line.
Old reflex.
Tiny chest reaction.
Then—
Lia: okay
Progress.
No cancellation.
No strategic excuse.
Just okay.
We met at a casual restaurant.
Jane was already there.
Chloe waved dramatically when she saw me.
"You came."
"I usually do when I say yes."
"Debatable."
Jane looked at me.
"Busy founder."
"Tiny business."
"Still founder."
Fair.
I sat.
Normal.
Good.
Then Jane smiled and said—
"Guess what."
My brain, for reasons known only to Satan, supplied:
I'm getting married.
I froze.
Literally.
One second.
Maybe two.
Jane frowned.
"What?"
I blinked.
"Nothing."
Chloe looked suspicious.
"Face."
"I'm fine."
Jane stared at me.
Then—
"I got reassigned to a different schedule."
Oh.
Right.
Current life.
Current Jane.
Not bride.
Not engagement.
Not Miguel.
Just work schedule.
My brain had skipped eleven years because she said guess what.
Damaged.
Absolutely damaged.
"Congrats?"
Jane laughed.
"I don't know yet."
"Then provisional congrats."
"Fair."
Dinner was fun.
Actually fun.
Jane complained about work.
Chloe told a story that got progressively less believable.
I laughed.
Jane stole food from Chloe.
Chloe retaliated.
Nothing hurt.
Then Jane ordered something sweet and said—
"This is too sweet."
My brain immediately produced Date Two.
Coffee.
Her face.
Too sweet.
Then Date Five.
Cereal.
Then Date Seven.
Good makeup.
Fuck.
I looked down at my drink.
Jane noticed.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"You disappeared."
"No."
"You did."
Chloe nodded.
"You do that now."
I looked at both of them.
"Can I have private thoughts?"
"No," Chloe said.
Jane nodded.
"Apparently not."
Terrible friends.
I took a breath.
Current Jane.
Current table.
No dates.
No Miguel.
No emotional procurement process.
"I remembered something random."
"What?"
"No."
Jane narrowed her eyes.
"About me?"
Maybe several lives.
"No comment."
"Suspicious."
Good.
Let her think it was high school.
Safer.
Later, Chloe mentioned somebody from school getting engaged.
Normal gossip.
Jane asked—
"Would you get married?"
My entire body betrayed me again.
Wedding dress.
Miguel.
Reception.
Wow eyes.
Good makeup.
The clean loan.
The stupid phone that finally died.
I looked at Jane.
Current Jane was just waiting for an answer.
No ring.
No fiancé.
No knowledge of any of it.
"Maybe."
Chloe looked at me.
"Only maybe?"
"Marriage is a large contract."
Jane laughed.
"Romantic."
"I contain multitudes."
"What about kids?"
Fuck.
Aria.
Not even this reset's main wound.
Still there.
Always there.
I swallowed.
"Maybe."
Jane smiled.
"You're very decisive."
"Current information incomplete."
Both of them stared.
I closed my eyes.
Fuck.
"What does that mean?" Chloe asked.
"Nothing."
Jane laughed.
"You're weird lately."
Correct.
My brain was a graveyard with spreadsheets.
I continued eating.
Despite that—
I had fun.
That mattered.
When the night ended, I didn't go home destroyed.
No crying.
No deleting photos.
No replaying a wedding that current Jane had never lived.
Just a little ache.
A little confusion.
And a lot of gratitude that these two were here again.
Different.
Current.
Alive.
The business added another regular client the next week.
Then a school account.
Then a small cosmetics brand needing packaging inserts and tags.
Volume started climbing.
Not enough for industrial fantasies.
Enough for another hire.
I reviewed applicants.
This time, no familiar names triggered anything.
Good.
I hired Mika for customer coordination support.
Twenty-two.
Talkative.
Good memory.
Extremely comfortable asking clarifying questions.
Lea liked her immediately.
That was useful.
Five employees.
New team.
Different structure.
I started documenting responsibilities earlier than last life.
Not copying old job titles.
Building around actual strengths.
Rina was naturally becoming production lead-ish.
Camille cared about stock systems more than packing.
Lea was better with difficult customers than routine data entry.
Mika loved routine follow-ups.
Fine.
Let the company form around people who actually existed.
That felt healthier.
Less like forcing old furniture into a new house.
One afternoon, Rina asked—
"Ma'am, eventually bibili po ba tayo ng bigger printer?"
I stopped.