Chapter 1

In my past life, my mother followed an AI-generated home remedy and sent my brother straight to the emergency room.

My twenty-year-old brother couldn't stop hiccupping, so he immediately ran crying to our mother.

Panicking, she typed "how to cure hiccups fast" into an AI search engine, and one ridiculous tip popped up:

"Drink a mouthful of dish soap for instant, miraculous relief."

She actually bought it. Without a second thought, she headed for the kitchen to grab the bottle of Dawn dish soap.

I desperately threw myself in front of her, screaming that dish soap would burn his stomach and intestines.

My mother's eyes turned red, and she shrieked at me, "You’re just jealous of your brother! You can’t stand to see him get better!"

She poured the liquid soap straight into his cup. Leo winced and swallowed a huge mouthful.

That night, Leo had to have his stomach pumped. The ER doctor lost his mind screaming at her:

"A little more and this would’ve killed him!" Leo was ghost-pale, throwing up the entire night.

Our father died early, leaving my mother with absolute authority in our house.

After Leo was discharged, she showed zero remorse. Instead, she pinned the whole disaster on me:

"If you hadn't delayed me with your arguing, he would’ve been fine! Your brother suffered entirely because of you!"

From that day on, she despised me.

Six months later, she forced me to marry the most violent thug in town.

Shortly after the wedding, he beat me to death.

When I opened my eyes again, I was reborn. I was right back on the day she fed my brother dish soap.

I died in the dead of winter when I was twenty-one.

Killed by my husband—the town's infamous drunk and wife-beater.

He got wasted, dragged me out into the backyard over some petty excuse, and punched me to death, blow after brutal blow.

In the final moments of my life, the person on my mind wasn't the monster killing me. It was my mother.

She was the one who pushed me into that living hell.

When I opened my eyes, I was back in the summer of my twentieth year.

I lay on my worn-out mattress, staring up at the familiar crack on the ceiling, completely stunned.

I dug my nails hard into my palm. It hurt. A sharp, vivid pain.

I was really back.

From the living room came Leo's loud, echoing hiccups.

"Mom! Mom! I’m dying! Hic! I can't breathe!"

Brenda rushed out of the kitchen, grease splattered on her apron, her face twisted in pure distress.

"Oh, my poor baby, what happened?"

She wrapped her arms around my twenty-year-old brother, rubbing his back with one hand while stroking his hair with the other.

"Mom, I—hic!—I’m gonna die!"

Leo buried his face in her chest, forcing out a few fake tears.

"Stop that! Don't you dare talk about dying!"

Tears welled in her eyes as she frantically pulled out her phone. "Mom will look it up. Mom will fix this!"

She began searching online.

In my last life, this was the exact moment she found that bizarre remedy.

I had rushed out, begging her to stop, warning her that detergent was toxic.

She didn't believe a word.

Instead, she glared at me with bloodshot eyes and screamed, "Stella Vance! You’re just jealous of your brother! You hate seeing him well!"

She hadn't listened to me at all.

This time, I wouldn't lift a finger.

I stayed quietly in my bedroom, listening to her thrilled voice in the living room:

"Baby, I found it! Look at this, it says taking a gulp of dish soap cures it instantly!"

"Mom, are you sure that’s safe?" Leo sounded slightly hesitant.

"Of course it is! The AI said so, and look at all the likes!"

Her voice was absolute.

I heard her step into the kitchen and pop open the bottle cap.

"Come on, sweetie, drink this down. One gulp and the hiccups are gone."

"Mom, this smells awful..."

"Just drink it! Stop whining. Drink it and I’ll make your favorite dinner."

I closed my eyes and listened to the wet, swallowing sounds coming from the next room.

A few seconds later, violent gagging and choking erupted across the living room.

"Mom! My throat's burning!"

"What’s happening? Why is this happening?"

Panic crept into her voice. "Leo, don't scare Mom like this!"

The living room fell into total chaos.

I stood up and stepped out of my room.

Leo was on his knees against the coffee table, retching hysterically. Thick white foam spilled out of his mouth, reeking of artificial lemon soap.

Brenda fell to her knees beside him, clinging to his shoulders, wailing at the top of her lungs.

I pulled out my phone with a trembling, hurried look and dialed 911.

"Hello? Apartment 401, Sunnyvale Court. Someone ingested toxic dish soap. We need an ambulance immediately."

When I hung up, my mother finally noticed me standing there.

Her eyes were bloodshot, snot and tears smearing across her face. Her voice cracked into a sharp, terrifying shriek:

"Stella Vance! Where the hell were you?! Your brother is dying, and you just stood there?!"

She shrieked until her voice broke.

She didn't ask why I hadn't stopped her—deep down, she knew she had poured the poison down her golden boy's throat herself.

My voice shook slightly. "I was reading in my room."

I walked over and helped steady Leo.

His skin had turned ashen, his lips an unnatural shade of blue, foam continually oozing from his mouth.

Brenda wept and spat curses at the same time: "This is all your fault! If you had come out sooner, would I have given him that?!"

"You just want your brother dead!"

I didn't utter a single protest.

In the distance, the wailing sirens grew closer.