My husband's first love ran off to a nightclub. She was drugged and assaulted there, and a year later returned with a child.

Without a word, Bryson Tanner dragged me to the courthouse to file for divorce.

"In this world, widows and orphans are easy prey. I can't just watch Christina get hurt. I'll acknowledge her child as mine."

I held my own child in my arms and calmly filled out the paperwork.

In my previous life, I had refused to divorce at all costs. I'd also publicly exposed Christina Floyd's tangled affairs with men.

She endured scorn and humiliation, and in a fit of anger, left her son behind to escape… only to die on that train.

When Bryson heard of it, he showed no expression. Yet a month later, he watched coldly as I was drugged and assaulted, and accused me of cheating and giving birth to another man's child.

It wasn't until my child and I were driven to death that I realized the depth of his hatred.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Bryson asked for a divorce.

"Christina isn't like you. She's been pampered since childhood. She can't manage without a man taking care of her."

I had barely come to my senses when Bryson Tanner's deep voice rang in my ears.

On the table in front of me lay the divorce papers and a pen. My son, Logan Tanner, slept peacefully in my arms.

It didn't take long for me to realize that I had been reborn… back to the day Bryson was going to divorce me.

Logan's body was warm, not the icy cold of the last life, when he had died in my arms from a congenital heart defect.

A lump rose in my throat. Without hesitation, I signed the divorce papers.

"Don't forget to wire me Logan's monthly child support."

"You…"

Perhaps he hadn't expected my decisiveness. His expression flickered in surprise, then softened into a rare, light-hearted smile. In seven years of marriage, I had never seen him like this.

He carefully folded the divorce agreement. "Selene, I'd like to thank you on Christina's behalf. Once she and her son are settled, we'll remarry. Remember, don't let anyone know the real reason we divorced."

The monthly child support was half of Bryson's salary. His only condition was that I admit to having a hereditary illness. He had invented such a ridiculous reason for divorce, only to avoid dragging Christina Floyd into it in any way.

I forced a self-deprecating smile. "Fine."

The sky was heavy and dark, and hailstones pelted the ground.

We walked out together. He reached the car first.

I shivered in the cold, about to pull the door open, when I heard him say, "Allen heard I divorced and insisted on going to the zoo to see the big tiger to celebrate. You're a mother too, so I'm sure you understand."

Before I could reply, the jeep sped off, leaving a trail of dust, as if afraid I might catch up.

Hail pounded against me painfully, the cold making it hard to breathe. I had no choice but to wrap Logan tightly in my coat and cautiously head back.

As I stepped into the courtyard, I saw the neighbors who usually loved spreading gossip gathered together. Their eyes turned disdainful as soon as they saw me.

I held my breath, preparing to rush inside with Logan, when suddenly, a rotten egg smashed against my head.

"You shameless woman! You cheated on your husband!"

"No wonder your child's heart developed crookedly. What a sin! Poor Bryson."

I froze.

The reason for divorcing Bryson wasn't a hereditary illness? How had it turned into me "cheating"?

Rage surged through me. I opened my mouth to defend myself, but then trash flew through the air. Logan, terrified, cried until his little face turned blue.

I had no choice but to swallow my anger and carry him inside first.

As soon as we entered, the landline rang. I held Logan in one arm and answered with the other.

On the other end, Dr. Ray Wade from the city hospital sounded ecstatic.

"Selene, an expert who can perform infant heart surgery has arrived at the General Hospital. I've explained your situation and managed to get you an appointment!"

"Seven days from now… do you have time to bring Logan to Odell City?"

The good news exploded in my ears, and my eyes immediately welled up with tears.

In my last life, I had lived as a single mother with Logan, struggling to survive while my reputation suffered. Every night, drunken men knocked on my window, startling me endlessly. After the divorce, Logan didn't even last three days before falling ill and dying.

This time, no matter what, I would do everything to keep my son alive.

I wiped my tears. "Yes, I'll come!"

After hanging up, I hurriedly packed my bags, not daring to pause for a moment.

Only after I placed the last piece of clothing into my suitcase did the sound of a door opening reach me from behind.

"Where do you think you're going?" Bryson's voice followed immediately.

I steadied myself and turned to face Bryson, only to find that he had brought Christina and her son back.

They stood together, the little boy sleeping peacefully in her arms. At a glance, they looked remarkably like a happy family of three.

A sharp pang of pain ran through me, but I forced my back straight.

"We're divorced. There's no reason for us to live together anymore."

For once, Bryson froze.

Christina quickly reacted, clutching her child and looking pitiful.

"I knew you wouldn't want me living here. Maybe I should leave…"

She moved as if to go, but Bryson grabbed her firmly.

He pressed something into my hands, his expression stern.

"You know I worry about you living with Logan outside. Don't be stubborn. For now, the five of us will live together."

He handed me a brand-new hot water bottle. "This is for Logan. Take it."

Bryson rarely bought things for the household on his own, let alone gifts for us.

And yet now…

I watched as he directed Christina to sit and set down several large bags. All were expensive baby products, toys, and mother-and-child essentials.

Christina murmured softly, "Bryson, I heard brand-name formula is better. It helps the baby grow stronger…"

Bryson indulged her. "We'll buy it. Anything you want, I'll get it for you."

I lowered my eyes to the hot water bottle in my arms—the free gift sticker in the corner hadn't even been removed yet.

In my previous life, Bryson had never asked a single question about Logan, yet he tended to Christina's child with such care. Meanwhile, the bottle in my hands was a free gift, and he had given it with ulterior motives.

He spoke again, "Christina and the baby get cold easily. Let them stay in the heated main bedroom. You take the guest room for tonight."

Then he tugged my hand slightly. "Behave yourself, and I'll remarry you as soon as possible."

Even now, hearing those words sent a chill through my heart.

I nodded half-heartedly, swallowing the lump in my throat, and carried Logan to the guest room.

From the main bedroom came the sounds of laughter and play—warm and happy.

But the guest room had no heating; the chill cut to the bone.

The hot water bottle needed refilling every few hours. I was afraid Logan would catch a cold, so I stayed awake, holding him, until dawn when the temperature finally rose enough to let me close my eyes for a short rest.

Just as I drifted off, the sound of a door opening stirred me.

I groggily opened my eyes and saw Christina carrying a bowl.

It was so early in the morning… what was she doing here?

I tried to sit up, but a chill from last night left my head woozy.

"You…"

Struggling to push myself upright, the scent of eggs hit me, snapping me fully awake.

By then, Christina had already scooped Logan into her arms and was carefully feeding him steamed egg custard with a spoon.

I shoved Christina violently. "What do you think you're doing?!"

Christina fell to the floor. The bowl in her hands smashed against the floor with a sharp crash.

I grabbed Logan immediately and froze in horror. His small face was flushed and swollen, his breathing already labored.

The broken bowl still held half a serving of egg custard.

Logan was allergic to eggs!

I didn't have time to think. I lunged for the medicine cabinet. But Logan's usual medicines, even his cardiac injections, had all been replaced with Allen's fish oil capsules.

Rage shook me. I didn't have a second to spare for Christina, who sat pitifully on the floor. Clutching my son, I bolted for the door.

But I hadn't even taken a step before crashing into a solid chest.

"What's all this commotion so early in the morning?"

Bryson's face was dark with displeasure.

Before I could reply, Christina began wailing.

"Bryson, it's Allen's first birthday today! I just wanted Logan to share some of the good luck, so I fed him a little egg custard… Then Selene said I was dirty, threw the bowl, and hit me, telling me to leave!"

I swayed on my feet, furious, mouth opening to defend myself.

The next instant, a heavy slap landed squarely across my face.

Pain exploded on my right cheek. My ears rang.

Through gritted teeth, Bryson's voice cut like ice, "Selene, how could you be so cruel?!"

I cradled Logan protectively as we fell to the floor.

My hand pressed against the shattered porcelain, sending searing pain up my arm.

Bryson hurried to lift Christina. "Your wrists are all red. I'll take you to the hospital!"

He carried her off, turning to leave.

Logan's face was red and tight with struggle. I grabbed Bryson's leg. "Take me and Logan to the hospital first! We need medicine, otherwise Logan will die!"

My bloody palms stained his trousers, yet he didn't even glance down.

With a dismissive kick, he shoved me aside.

"Just give Logan some anti-allergy medicine. This afternoon, I'll accompany Christina and her child for a family portrait. You should reflect on yourself!"

With that, he left in haste with Christina.

Logan's breathing grew more labored. I had no choice. I forced myself upright, clutching him, and ran toward the hospital.

When we arrived, the doctor unleashed a torrent of scolding, "You parents are unbelievably careless! A little longer and who knows if the child would have survived!"

I kept thanking him, my face still swollen and throbbing.

Seeing my pitiful state, the doctor sighed and said no more.

I wiped my tears and stayed by Logan's side through the IV.

At this point, I could no longer rely on Bryson.

Tickets to Odell City, plus food and lodging, would cost roughly 1,000 dollars. Fortunately, I'd long supplemented our household income by selling handmade crafts. The savings plus current sales were just enough.

Looking at Logan, already covered in tiny needle marks despite it being barely morning, I made a firm decision. In this second life, I would do whatever it took to save my son!

That afternoon, after finishing the IV, I carried Logan to the mall.

Just as I placed a pair of knitted gloves on the counter, the reflection in the glass caught my eye—Christina.

Her slight scratches had been carefully disinfected with iodine. She wore a high-quality wool coat, standing at the entrance of the photo studio. Neither Bryson nor the child was with her.

Her eyes darkened as she spotted the items on my counter.

She lunged forward, snatching the gloves. "Selene! How dare you steal things from home to sell! And make this much money!"

I froze. "What are you talking about?"

Christina smiled triumphantly and pulled a plastic bag from her handbag. "This is the evidence!"