Chapter 1

“Hey, didn’t you say you wanted burgers yesterday? I made them for you. Come on, try some and tell me what you think,” Jayden said, bringing breakfast over as he always did, gentle and attentive. His usual warm smile made me shudder.

Jayden had been a live-in son-in-law since we got married, always taking care of my mom and me. Over the years, he did everything. Everyone praised me for marrying such a gentle, perfect man, and I believed it too. I never would have guessed that in my last life, he’d publicly accuse me of being a cruel daughter who abused her mom for years.

I had no idea that the mild-mannered man I married could have such a twisted side.

“Hey, what’s on your mind? Come eat,” Jayden said, waving his hand in front of me. Swallowing the anger and confusion building inside, I sat down at the table, glancing at my mom, who was quietly eating her oatmeal. My eyes immediately welled up with tears.

It was today. After breakfast, she would head to the hospital and jump to her death. By the time I reached the hospital, all I’d find was her corpse. I had cried my eyes dry, holding her cold body. But Chloe pointed at me, telling me to stop pretending. I had no idea what she was talking about.

Chloe claimed that my mom jumped because I had been abusing her for years. She even said my mom had confided in her, telling her she’d rather stay in the hospital every day than go home. Just as I was arguing with Chloe, Jayden arrived from home. I had hoped he would clear my name, but instead, he angrily shouted at me in front of everyone.

“Ever since I married you, I’ve watched you abuse your mom every day! And every time I tried to stop you, you hit me too! I can’t believe you would treat such a kind, loving woman like that! She gave birth to you and raised you, how could you push her to death?”

Every word Jayden said dripped with pain and righteous anger as he detailed all the supposed "abuse" I inflicted on my mom, painting me as a villain who found joy in beating her.

My desperate attempts to explain were drowned out by the crowd's accusations. Then the coroner revealed the scars on my mom’s body, old and new, horrifying everyone. The coroner concluded that these injuries could only be the result of long-term abuse.

People cursed at me, calling me worse than a beast. Some threw garbage at me, stones even, and they would have beaten me to death right there if they could. I was handcuffed and taken away to the police station amid endless insults.

Suddenly, I was all over the news as the "Evil Daughter," the "Most Cruel Child," with headlines highlighting my poor mom's tragic life. The internet exploded with hatred for me, and even in prison, I had no peace. Eventually, the other inmates tortured me to death.

Even then, I couldn’t understand how my mom, who had only been admitted to the hospital for an allergic reaction, ended up covered in scars and driven to jump to her death. The pain of my last life was still fresh in my mind. This time, I would find out the truth.