On my deathbed, my husband, who had supposedly been "dead for years," strolled in with his young, beautiful mistress, just to gloat.

"Sarah, thanks for paying off all my debts. Allowed me to live it up overseas all these years, you know?"

My chest flared with pain.

Kevin Davis coolly yanked out my oxygen tube.

"Honey, legally, I'm still your husband. So, all your assets? I'll gladly take them off your hands."

Kevin watched coldly as I took my last breath.

I closed my eyes, filled with regret.

When I opened them again, I was back on the day my husband faked his death.

1

"Mrs. Davis, please accept my condolences."

Dr. Miller's voice was low, trying to comfort me.

I stared blankly at the figure covered by a white sheet, my mind still foggy.

I glanced up at the digital clock on the wall.

Somehow, I was back fifteen years in the past!

The day Kevin supposedly killed himself!

In my past life, Kevin had racked up enormous gambling debts and borrowed heavily from loan sharks.

To protect his reputation as a respected teacher, he left a suicide note and staged his death.

But even after he "died," the creditors didn't stop chasing the debt.

To preserve my husband's lifelong reputation and shield our family from harassment, I took on his burden.

I sold both our houses, worked three jobs a day, pinched every penny.

After ten long, hard years, I finally paid off the millions he owed.

But the toil destroyed my health. At only fifty, I collapsed.

As I lay dying, Kevin reappeared.

He'd been living comfortably abroad, dodging his debts. The first thing he did upon returning was pull my oxygen tube to inherit my estate!

Now, I'm reborn.

And I'm going to watch you, you deadbeat scumbag, go straight to hell!

2

My thoughts snapped back to the present. I gathered my emotions, let out a loud wail, and threw myself onto Kevin's body.

"Honey! Don't leave me!"

I sobbed, pounding on Kevin's "corpse."

I used about ninety percent of my strength, hitting him with solid thuds.

Since Kevin was faking death, he obviously couldn't move.

Dr. Miller couldn't stand it anymore and pulled me up.

"Mrs. Davis, please calm down. You can't bring him back."

I looked at Dr. Miller's pudgy face, a fire igniting inside me.

Kevin couldn't have faked his death without help.

That accomplice had to be the attending physician who declared him dead.

Last time, I was too overwhelmed with grief, letting this doctor wheel the supposed body into the morgue.

My mother-in-law handled the arrangements; I never even saw Kevin cremated. I just numbly accepted he was gone.

It seemed I was the only one they kept in the dark.

Fine. This time, I'll settle the score with both of you!

3

I gathered all my strength and slapped Dr. Miller hard across the face.

He was stunned.

I howled uncontrollably:

"Why? My husband was such a good man! Why couldn't you save him?!"

Like a madwoman, I grabbed Dr. Miller's collar and started punching and kicking him.

In the chaos, I managed to land a few more solid hits on Kevin.

"Mrs. Davis, Mrs. Davis, calm down! I understand how you feel, but we need to take Mr. Davis to the morgue now," Dr. Miller stammered, rubbing his already swelling cheek.

I fell silent, staring at Dr. Miller, and said coolly:

"Okay. I'll go with you."

Dr. Miller hadn't expected this request and looked hesitant.

"Mrs. Davis, according to regulations, unauthorized personnel are not allowed in the hospital morgue."

I changed tactics:

"Fine, then I'll stay here with him. Kevin always hated the cold. I can't bear the thought of him lying in one of those cold drawers."

Dr. Miller looked troubled.

My actions were clearly throwing a wrench in their plans.

"Mrs. Davis, it's hot weather now. If Mr. Davis isn't taken to the morgue, the body will start to decompose quickly."

I replied firmly:

"I don't care."

Dr. Miller grew anxious.

But no matter how he tried to persuade me, I refused to leave Kevin's side.

Sweat beaded on Dr. Miller's forehead.

My lack of cooperation was making things difficult for him.

He quietly slipped out of the room and made a hushed phone call.

I sat silently by the bedside.

The thought of Kevin lying under that white sheet, enduring this minute by minute, almost made me laugh.

Twenty minutes later, my mother-in-law, Brenda Davis, burst in like a storm.

"You jinx! Are you trying to stop my son from resting in peace?"

Brenda pointed a finger right at my nose and started yelling.

I looked coldly at her fierce, unpleasant face.

In my past life, Brenda conspired with Kevin to deceive me, happily living off my hard work.

This time, I wouldn't be so weak.

4

"A jinx? Dad died young; does that make you a jinx too?"

My sharp retort left Brenda momentarily speechless.

"I don't care! You can't stop my son from finding peace!"

Brenda moved to push the gurney.

I stood in front of it, staring coldly at her.

"Oh, God help me! My son just died, and now my daughter-in-law is trying to drive this old woman to her grave!"

Brenda plopped down on the floor, slapping her thighs and wailing accusations at me like a common thug.

A crowd began to gather, but I remained calm.

"This woman! She deliberately wants to keep my son from being buried properly! She wants him to be a wandering ghost, unable to move on!"

Brenda got more dramatic, playing to the onlookers.

She accused me of being lazy, mooching off them, and bullying her.

The bystanders started giving me suspicious looks.

I didn't rush. Copying Brenda, I sat down on the floor and started wiping away tears.

"Mom, oh Mom! I married into your family five years ago. I worked tirelessly, taking care of both of you. Look at your hands, so white and soft. Not like mine, dark and rough."

I cried while holding up Brenda's hand.

Facts speak louder than words.

Brenda's hands clearly hadn't seen a day of hard work.

She was plump, well-dressed, a large gold bracelet gleaming on her wrist.

I, on the other hand, wore simple clothes and looked haggard.

Hardly the image of a domineering, cruel daughter-in-law.

Brenda was thrown off by my tactic.

"You brat! What nonsense are you spouting?"

Brenda pointed at me, yelling.

I pretended to be terrified, covering my head and screaming:

"Don't hit me!"

My sleeve slid down, revealing the crisscrossed scars on my arm.

Seeing this, the crowd immediately turned on Brenda.

"Looks more like you've been bullying your daughter-in-law, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, you look well-fed, unlike her. She's so thin, clearly been through a lot."

"Are those bruises on her arm? Should we call the police?"

The accusations and criticism rained down on Brenda.

She was furious, yelling at the crowd:

"Get lost! Mind your own business! This is family stuff!"

Brenda stood with her hands on her hips, ready to argue with everyone.

And now, it was time for my next move.

5

"Excuse me, are you Mrs. Davis?"

Several people in uniforms entered the room.

The room instantly fell silent.

I wiped my tears and shook their hands.

"Yes, I'm Sarah Davis, Kevin Davis's wife."

"Who are they?"

Brenda eyed the newcomers warily.

"Oh, they're from the organ donation center. They're here to help Kevin fulfill his final wish," I said casually.

"What organ donation? What are you trying to do?"

Brenda raised her voice, blocking the gurney.

"You know, donating his corneas, heart, liver... to save other people in need!" I explained calmly.

Brenda panicked.

She stood protectively in front of Kevin, shouting her refusal:

"His body is sacred! It came from his parents! I don't agree!"

"Mom, you can't ignore Kevin's wishes! He always wanted to contribute to society!" I said righteously.

To prove my point, I pulled out the organ donor registration document Kevin had signed from my phone.

Thanks to Kevin's hypocritical nature, always trying to build a saintly image at work, he had actually signed up for organ donation years ago.

Brenda's face flushed red, but she still wouldn't let anyone near Kevin.

Beside her, Dr. Miller was sweating bullets.

If Kevin's fake death was exposed, he'd be the first one to go down.

To make it even harder for them to back down, I had another card up my sleeve.

6

"Make way! Is the hero donating all his organs in this room?"

A swarm of reporters pushed into the already crowded, small hospital room.

"Who are you people?"

Brenda was on the verge of tears.

"Ma'am, hello, we're reporters from the local TV station. We heard that a hero's family wishes to donate their deceased relative's organs, and we came to cover the story," a reporter answered with a smile.

Brenda was dumbfounded.

As the grieving widow, it was naturally my place to take charge.

"Everyone, my husband, Kevin Davis, was a middle school teacher. He dedicated his life to educating others and was a man of great integrity. It was my husband's wish to donate his organs. As his wife, I certainly won't disappoint him. I have decided to donate all of my husband Kevin's organs!"

My passionate speech earned a round of applause.

Camera flashes went off nonstop.

Hearing the news, Kevin's school principal and other administrators also arrived.

They wouldn't miss an opportunity that brought positive attention to the school.

The situation had reached its peak.

7

"No!"

Brenda clung desperately to the gurney, refusing to let anyone touch her son.

"Ma'am, your son contributing to society is a noble act!"

People in the crowd tried to persuade Brenda.

Seeing that he was about to be taken away for dissection, Kevin finally couldn't hold it in any longer.

"I don't agree!"

Kevin's sudden resurrection startled many people.

"What's going on?!"

The reporters, though experienced, were visibly shocked, but their cameras remained steady.

"Kevin! You!"

My eyes widened as I pointed at Kevin in feigned shock.

Kevin looked furious, glaring daggers at me.

"Why aren't you dead?"

Angry and desperate, I slapped Kevin across the face.

"How dare you lie to me?" I screamed, seemingly devastated.

Kevin awkwardly shielded his face, growling at the reporters:

"Stop filming!"

But how could reporters pass up such a bizarre story?

The scene descended into chaos.

A man declared dead suddenly comes back to life!

It was undeniably huge news.

"Kevin, you... how?"

Even the school officials were too stunned to speak coherently.

Kevin frowned, stammering nonsensically.

As people grasped the situation, they turned on Kevin with angry shouts.

"This guy faked his own death to scam his wife! What was he planning?"

"His mother must have been in on it too! Poor wife, kept completely in the dark."

"I bet he was planning to run off with money! What a terrible thing to do to his wife!"

Kevin wished the ground would swallow him whole.

He wanted to run, but the thick crowd blocked any escape.

I smiled faintly. Was it over already?

Not quite.

8

"Well, well, what's all the commotion here?"

Several menacing men, arms covered in tattoos, pushed their way into the room.

Seeing them, Kevin's face instantly turned deathly pale.

"Kevin, pal. You were supposed to pay the interest. What're you doing in the hospital?"

One of the large men clapped Kevin on the shoulder with a humorless grin.

Kevin actually collapsed onto the gurney bed.

"Who... who are you people?"

I timidly stepped forward.

The big guy, dangling a cigarette from his lips, said casually:

"You must be Mrs. Davis, right? Your husband, Kevin, did some gambling on our turf. Long story short, he owes a bit of money. Borrowed quite a chunk from my associates too. Payment's been overdue for a few days now."

Kevin hung his head, silent.

I looked around at the gawking crowd and the filming reporters, then asked directly:

"How much does my husband owe you?"

The big man waved his hand dismissively:

"Not much. Just over a million bucks."

"Whoa!"