"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!"

I recognized the plastic bag at a glance. It was the one I'd set aside for Logan's medical expenses.

My eyes stung with tears as I lunged for it. "Who said you could take my money?! Christina, give it back!"

I grabbed her hair with all my strength, desperate to reclaim it. She, however, clenched the money like it belonged to her.

By now, more shoppers had gathered, forming a tight circle. That's when Bryson appeared, carrying Christina's child.

"Selene, what do you think you're doing?!"

The next second, someone yanked Christina and me apart.

I lost my balance and slammed the back of my head against the counter.

A cacophony of glass shattering erupted—countless shards slashed across my face.

It felt as if my heart had been ripped open, blood gushing, pain sharp and unrelenting. The only relief was that I had placed Logan safely in the nearby cradle just moments before.

Bryson helped Christina to her feet, his gaze cold as he lowered his voice slightly.

"Have you gone completely mad?!"

I let out a bitter laugh, tears suddenly spilling down my cheeks.

No matter what I said, Bryson wouldn't believe a single word. So why argue?

If the money was gone, I'd sell off my family heirloom. I would not allow Logan to suffer any longer.

I wiped my tears fiercely and looked at Bryson.

"Check the accounts for yourself. After all these years of marriage, see how much of your money I've spent."

In the past, I'd worried about him working hard, carefully giving him and Logan the best I could. I probably spent less than 100 dollars a year on myself.

Bryson paused, his expression softening slightly. He took two steps forward, then stopped, not pursuing me further.

For the next two days, I focused solely on earning money through my crafts, paying no attention to whether Bryson returned home.

That night, as I went to bed, I noticed something under my pillow.

By the moonlight, I saw that Bryson had left two envelopes. One contained a tattered collection of bills totaling 1,000 dollars, the other, a few new notes, totaling 1,000 dollars.

I didn't return them. Every penny was now a hope for Logan to grow up healthy.

But just as I was about to rest, the door to the guest bedroom burst open with a kick.

I looked up to see Bryson, eyes blazing with anger.

"Selene! Didn't you promise me a divorce? Do you have to push Christina to the brink to get your way?!"

I didn't understand what he was saying at first.

Then Christina approached, covered in red paint, looking utterly pitiful. Tears streaked her face as she sobbed, "Bryson, I believe Selene didn't spread the rumors on purpose. Please don't blame her…"

Bryson's fury intensified. He yanked me in front of Christina, teeth gritted.

"Kneel and apologize to Christina right now. Then make it clear that the one who 'stole' someone else's husband is you, not her!"

His grip on my wrist sent pain shooting through my arm, but all I felt was absurd irony.

Bryson, usually so calm and shrewd, lost all clarity when it came to her.

I yanked my hand free. "Why should I?"

Her reputation was important, but so was mine.

My refusal ignited a rage in Bryson I had never seen before.

I thought he might simply force me to confess, but instead, he grabbed my wrist and dragged me into the confinement room.

"Until you've reflected on your actions, you'll stay here!"

Without another word, he left.

Inside the confinement room, I wrapped Logan in my arms and watched the clock tick.

Not long after, the iron door creaked. Christina entered, carrying a thermos.

"Bryson feels a little sorry for you and told me to bring you some soup… to warm you up."