The very idea of all the expenses during pregnancy and after the baby arrived had left me sleepless for nights, fraying my nerves. We had fought over money more than once, yet this time I stayed composed. He took my silence as the calm before a storm.

I remembered the phrase he always said. "Wasn't it you who said to be kind to others and not worry too much about material things?"

Samuel paused for a moment. "Honey, you're really not angry?"

"She isn't having an easy time either," I said with a smile.

Two days later, he went about his usual routine after work. When he realized I truly hadn't gone after the other party, he grew a little anxious and began casually mentioning that three thousand dollars around the house.

Just as he had expected, I went down to the building where his company was located on the third day.

Samuel had a good rapport with his colleagues, and after work, small groups of people would gather around him. Kate was among them. My reputation for being sharp-tempered and fierce meant that most colleagues kept their distance, and the accountant who had miscalculated, Kate, hid behind him.

"Honey, what are you doing here?" he asked, rushing over with a panicked expression. "This is a workplace. Can we discuss things at home instead?"

Everyone's eyes shifted from my face to my belly, watching me warily.

I was heavily pregnant, and with the way people knew me, it was only natural they assumed I had come to cause trouble.

To them, Samuel was easygoing, and I was the only one who nitpicked.

"Honey, what are you talking about? I just went for my prenatal checkup and came to pick you up after work," I said.

Kate still seemed a little scared that I might cause a scene. She had only been at the company for three weeks and was newly pregnant, hoping to get maternity leave without being fired for the mistake.

Thanks to my husband, she got my contact, and from the start, she apologized repeatedly and even transferred the money to me.

When Samuel found out, he was both guilty and angry. "Why did you make it hard for poor Kate? Her family isn't well off. It's just three thousand dollars. Did you really have to scare her like that?"

At that moment, we were in the hospital. My mother-in-law, Charlotte, suddenly fainted and would soon be diagnosed with dementia.

Since he didn't bother keeping his voice down while reprimanding me, the people around glanced over as if I had acted inhumanely and taken someone's money.

"I returned it, honey," I said.

He suddenly found his words caught in his throat. "Returned it?"

I showed him the chat logs, where I had been comforting Kate the entire time.

"Don't worry. Samuel and I are not holding this against you," I had written.

Because of this, Kate had said many kind words to me at work. She accepted the money happily after I soothed her, and I told her to consider it a gift for her child.

With this chat record, the nature of the three thousand dollars changed completely. No matter what, that money could never be claimed back.

I watched quietly as he fell silent, then let out a light laugh and pushed open the hospital room door first.

Charlotte had five children—four sons and a daughter—with Samuel and Riley being the youngest. They had always been close.

They argued heatedly about which child should look after her. In a family of five, it wouldn't naturally have fallen to Samuel, but he stepped forward, insisting that I could manage the meals and massages.

His older brother, Derrick Dalton, objected. "Isn't that a bit much? Olivia is pregnant."

"She's very strong. She handles most of the heavy work at home," Samuel said.

Riley had always been close to my husband. As soon as we entered, she gently pushed me aside and affectionately looped her arm through his, praising him openly.

"Olivia is really capable," Riley said.

In my previous life, I used to think she was genuinely complimenting me, but now I realized she had always treated me like a pack mule. She had an inexplicable tendency to single me out.

Since I didn't immediately agree, she assumed I was unwilling to help, that I looked down on her mother.

"What do you mean? My mom is your mother-in-law. You wanted her to help with the kids before, and now that she's sick, you don't care at all?"

I remembered her words perfectly. "If it's a son, I'll look after him. If it's not, don't even think of asking me," she had said.

"Exactly, Olivia. We have a responsibility as her children," Samuel added.

The two of them echoed each other, and I nodded in agreement.

Charlotte suffered from severe dementia.

When Charlotte was lucid, she caused trouble constantly, but she never targeted Samuel. While I was pregnant, she even struck my stomach. She screamed nonstop whenever Samuel was at work. After I gave birth to Luna, she kept waking her repeatedly, only stopping when Samuel came home.

As I looked into her cloudy eyes, I felt the same hatred as if staring at an enemy. Luna's death had haunted me for years.

I went along with bringing her over, but only as a pretext to serve my own purposes.

Samuel gave me full control of the money, knowing I was too modest to spend it freely. I often used my pre-marriage savings to cover daily expenses while his money remained untouched.

Now, I no longer cared.

I ensured Charlotte received a constant supply of nutritious meals. Samuel watched with pity but stayed silent since the food was for his mother. I had no intention of giving her a genuinely comfortable life.

During the day, I kept her locked in her room, uncaring whether she lived or died, and only let her out when Samuel came home. Her lucid moments were few, and she could barely communicate.

Just as in my past life, Samuel had no idea of her antics at home, the screaming and chaos. This time, he also didn't know that the nutritious meals were going to me, while Charlotte spent the day locked in a room.

Having Charlotte in my home also gave Riley a convenient excuse to visit often. This apartment had been fully paid for by my parents before my marriage, and Riley treated it like her own home. Her four-year-old son bounced around like a flea.

Riley claimed she was there to spend time with her mother, but in reality, she was just freeloading, expecting me to wait on her.

I cooked up a five-course vegetable meal, and somehow three of the dishes featured pumpkin. Creamy pumpkin soup, roasted pumpkin with herbs, and a pumpkin gratin—all made from just one pumpkin.

"I finally brought my child to have a meal with mom, and you expect me to eat this?" she asked.

"If you don't like it, you don't have to eat," I replied.

After a while, she found another reason to cause trouble. She sat like a spoiled child, insisting I feed her kid.

When he refused after a few bites, I stopped. She sneered, asking what I would do when my own child was born.

I said, "Even a dog can feed itself. Your child is old enough to eat alone. Don't worry about mine. You should worry more about how he'll manage in the future."

Charlotte suddenly sprang at me, screaming insults and hitting me, while Riley laughed uncontrollably beside her. Then she turned on Riley, slapping her and calling her a good-for-nothing.

When Samuel rushed over to intervene, he got slapped twice. Riley's long nails left a deep scratch on his neck, and she panicked, pulling at his shirt to check the wound.

I frowned, watching the chaos. She cupped her brother's face in concern, asking how he had gotten hurt.

Though they were siblings, their relationship felt far too intimate and undefined to me.

I had noticed it in my previous life. When I mentioned it, I was criticized for being an only child who didn't understand sibling bonds.

But in this second life, certain subtle details still struck me as strange.

"Olivia…" he murmured through the pain, hoping I would ask what happened and handle it for him.

Even without him saying anything, I knew exactly what he wanted from me.

He had been caught in a staged accident, with a man demanding 70 thousand dollars for lost wages and medical expenses.

In my previous life, I had handled it for him even while heavily pregnant. I confronted the rogue and argued on his behalf, while he only had to show up at work. At the final stage in court, he opted for a private settlement with no compensation, making all my effort feel like a joke.

This time, I was smarter. I pretended not to hear.

As he talked about the compensation, he kept his eyes on me, clearly waiting for me to say something different.

"Although our savings aren't much, 70 thousand dollars is still manageable. Honey, be more careful when you drive next time. Don't be so reckless."

He had expected me to leap up, righteously accuse the man of staging the accident, and demand justice. Everything in his tone hinted at it.

"Then I suppose I should go talk to him," he said.

"Can't you go, Olivia? Samuel's still at work," Riley said, pursing her lips.

"I need to take care of your mother," I said, nodding toward Charlotte, who was still watching Riley like a hawk.

The memory of her earlier outburst and the insult still lingered in her mind. I had considered letting Riley handle it, but I kept my mouth shut.

Samuel fancied himself charismatic and diplomatic. Instead of securing evidence first, he wasted time negotiating with the man and personally escorted him to the hospital.

The man was a shameless scammer. Back in my previous life, my own firm approach had gained me nothing. How much worse would it be if Samuel tried?

He stormed off and insisted he would handle it himself, thinking it would be simple.

However, the scammer kept making endless demands, and whenever anything didn't go his way, he refused to cooperate or even speak.

Samuel tried to explain that he hadn't even hit the man, but the man shot back, "If you didn't hit me, why did you rush me to the hospital? And if you're not guilty, what's with all this stuff you brought?"

The scammer had repeated the X-rays several times. Nothing ever showed up, but he claimed pain everywhere. Within just a few days, Samuel had already paid out 20 thousand dollars.

On top of that, he came home to find his mother holding a cup of coffee and deliberately pouring it onto his laptop. The backup files nearby were all destroyed.

Finally, he snapped. Instead of blaming his mother, he stormed into my room, shouting like a madman. The kind, mild-mannered man everyone knew him as outside was gone.

"Why are you so angry?" I asked, clutching my belly and looking at him in disbelief.