"A mother rewrote time. Her daughter lived twice." My name is Kate Galloway Carmichael, and on September 1st, 1997, a horrific crash fatally injured me while I rode my Ducati motorcycle through Edinburgh. I died hours later in the hospital with my mother, Ava Carmichael, at my side. So how, exactly, am I writing this? To answer that, I have to tell the story from my mother's side of the glass. From the year of my death. From the moment she decided that losing her only daughter was... negotiable. 1997 was a strange year for Scotland. We voted for devolution. A single mother in Edinburgh called J.K. Rowling published a book about a boy wizard. Dolly the Sheep made history. A Dundee games studio released something noisy and lawless called Grand Theft Auto-and my mother started designing her first Time Machine. Her second machine came later-although, in a way, it arrived earlier. That's the kind of knot you get into when you start bending time around love and grief. Which is why I'm here, on the far side of a fatal crash, trying to untangle what really happened... and why I seem to be living my life twice