In order to take care of my wife, Mildred Dale, who kept going into lunatic episodes thanks to the side effects of a car crash, I spent all of my assets and ten years of my life taking care of her.

Whenever Mildred went into an episode, she'd hurl everything she could get her hands on at me. At the same time, she'd scratch every inch of my body with her nails. But when she sobered up, she'd hug me while wailing at the top of her lungs.

All of my friends advised me to file for a divorce, yet I'd always remember the fact that Mildred had pushed me from the incoming car and hit her head, resulting in her current condition.

But everything changed when Mildred beat me up to the point that I sustained grievous injuries. Heck, my soul was already floating near the ceiling at that time.

That was when I saw Mildred arranging her childhood friend Hank Weaver's collar carefully.

"Why are you crying? He's already dead. Shouldn't we celebrate this occasion instead?

"But my heart breaks for you, Mildred. You've pretended to be a lunatic for ten whole years just to swindle every cent out of his account!"

Mildred kissed Hank on the lips. Then, she uttered icily, "I've been enduring that cowardly fool for ten long years. Now, I no longer have to be with him."

It turns out that Mildred and Hank had painstakingly staged the car accident just so they could put on such a perfect act.

When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Mildred is diagnosed with mental health issues.

"Ms. Dale has suffered a traumatic brain injury. While it isn't life-threatening, her mental state may become unstable. She will likely fluctuate between moments of clarity and mania."

The doctor handed me the diagnostic report and sighed heavily. It was in that moment that it hit me that I'd been reborn.

"Take her home so she can slowly recover. A familiar environment aids in rehabilitation," the doctor suggested, but I ignored him and looked at Mildred Dale lying on the hospital bed.

Her eyelids twitched slightly to show that she was faking sleep.

In my past life, I trusted the doctor. After taking her home, I worked myself to exhaustion during the day to earn money, only to return home at night just to endure her physical abuse and manic outbursts.

Meanwhile, her childhood sweetheart, Hank Weaver, made up an excuse that he was "well acquainted with psychiatric specialists" and took her out for "treatments" during the day. In reality, they drove my car and spent my money, squandering my wealth while indulging in their sordid affair.

If she was expecting that I'd still take her home in this life, she must be dreaming.

I walked over to the bed, leaned down, and quietly slid my hand toward her inner thigh before twisting hard.

"Ah!"

A piercing scream shattered the silence of the ward. Mildred bolted upright before she pointed at me and shrieked, "Victor Crane! Are you insane?"

I wasn't insane, but in this life, I was going to make sure that she truly became a lunatic.

I shouted toward the door, "Help! Doctors, nurses, my wife's having an episode! She's getting out of control!"

When the doctors and nurses rushed in, they saw the feral Mildred trying to scramble off the bed to attack me, while I huddled against the wall with a perfect mask of terror and helplessness on my face. My eyes immediately reddened as they entered.

"Quick! Get the restraints!" a doctor barked.

Mildred probably forgot that she was supposed to be "mentally unstable" and violently struggled as she screamed at the nurses, "Get off me! I'm not crazy; he is!"

I wiped my eyes and grabbed her restrained hand. "Don't worry, honey. Even if you've lost your mind, I'll never divorce you."

My voice was choked up and loud enough for everyone in the ward to hear.

Mildred's face turned from a furious red to a sickly pale. When she glared at me, the venom and hatred in her eyes threatened to spill over.

The surrounding patients and their families looked at me with sympathy and admiration.

"He is such an amazing man for not leaving his wife's side, even if she's terribly sick."

"Exactly. I can't imagine how much the poor guy has to suffer to deal with such a mess."

I met their gazes before turning to the doctor with a tone full of heavy grief. "Doctor, for her safety and mine, please contact the best psychiatric hospital at once. I want her transferred."

"What?"

Mildred's eyes flew so wide they nearly bulged out of their sockets. As she frantically thrashed, the restraints dug so hard into her skin that it reddened. "Victor, don't you dare!

"You evil bastard! I'm not sick or crazy!"

I ignored her roaring and gave the attending doctor a look of pity and resignation. "Look, doctor. She's already spouting nonsense and thinks I'm trying to harm her. I'm her husband, but she can't even recognize me anymore.

"Please speed up the process. I must get her into the best psychiatric hospital to get her cured."

The doctor helplessly stepped back and sympathetically reassured me, "Don't worry, Mr. Crane. The psychiatric team is on its way."

The moment the words left his mouth, I saw pure horror on Mildred's face. Every frantic defense she made seemed to serve as evidence of how serious her condition was.

"Victor, you bitch! How dare you set me up! I'll kill you!"

Furious, she tried to lunge at me again, but the doctor's sedative kicked in.

As she slowly went still, her eyes were full of murderous rage, yet she was too powerless to do anything.

I smirked. "Don't worry, honey. I'll make sure they get you cured, once and for all."

The transfer to the psychiatric hospital went through surprisingly smoothly.

I chose Serenity Psychiatric Recovery Center for Mildred, which was the most secure facility in the city. I even upgraded her to a VIP plan, which placed her in a ward equipped with surveillance 24/7, zero blind spots, and double security doors. She would receive sedative treatment twice a day.

Just as I finished signing the paperwork and was about to leave, Hank rushed over. He grabbed my arm with anxiety and disbelief written all over his face.

"Victor, I heard about the accident, but I didn't imagine it would be this serious! How could you send Midred to a place like this?"

I wrenched my arm free and took a subtle step back to put some distance between us. "I don't have a choice either. The doctor said she has strong violent tendencies, so it's too dangerous to keep her at home."

I sighed, then shifted gears and gave him a curious look. "But how did you even find us here? I don't think I've told anyone yet."

Hank's expression stiffened briefly before he stammered and explained, "I-I was just worried about Mildred, so I called every single one of her old friends until I finally tracked her down."

That was such a perfect excuse.

"I see. That's really thoughtful of you." I nodded and gave him a grateful smile.

"Oh, and I was searching for a specialist whom I can consult. You mentioned that you have a friend who's a top psychiatrist, didn't you?"

His eyes immediately lit up. "Yes, he is. He's one of the best in the field, so don't worry, Victor. I'll make sure he comes up with the best treatment plan for Mildred."

"That's wonderful news!" I exclaimed in a voice full of mock relief. Then, right in front of the lead psychiatrist, Samuel Miller, I fired a barrage of questions at him.

"Thank you for being so kind, Mr. Weaver. Which hospital does this specialist friend of yours practice at? Would you mind showing me his medical license and board certifications? After all, I wouldn't dare leave Mildred in the hands of some unlicensed quack, given how serious her condition is."

Hank's face flushed deep red. He sputtered for a long time, yet failed to get a single word out.

I didn't give him a second to respond and apologetically turned back to Samuel. "I'm so sorry, Dr. Miller. My friend is just too eager to help.

"From now on, I'll place Mildred's case entirely in your hands. And to avoid unnecessary trouble, please make sure that anyone who comes to visit has their identity verified with me first. Unless it's me, no one gets in, even if they claim to be a friend, relative, or specialist.

"I'm sure you understand that none of us can afford the consequences if a medical mishap happens."

Samuel nodded solemnly. "Don't worry, Mr. Crane. We have strict visitation protocols to make sure that there won't be any accidents."

Hank stood off to the side, looking pale and defeated. I had shut down his plan to collude with the insiders and save Mildred before he could even take the first step.

After returning home, I gathered all of Mildred's bank cards and dialed customer service.

"Hello, I'd like to report all bank cards under my name and my wife, Mildred Dale's, as lost. Yes, all of them right now.

"The reason? She's mentally unstable, and I suspect she may have disclosed her cards and PINs to outsiders, so please freeze all accounts right now for security reasons."

In my past life, Mildred and Hank used the money they got from the cards to live like royalty. In this life, I was looking forward to seeing how they'd manage without my funding.

Sure enough, the couple started panicking after just three days. Through the microscopic bug I'd planted in Mildred's car, I picked up their frantic conversation.

While brewing a cup of tea, I leisurely listened in. "...That bastard! Victor's a total jerk!"

Hank's voice was shrill and grating. "He froze all the cards! When I tried to withdraw cash, the screen stated that the accounts were frozen!"

On the other end of the line, Mildred's voice came through. It was thick with suppressed rage and a trace of barely detectable panic.

"We can't wait any longer, Hank. If I stay here another day, the doctors and nurses will actually drive me insane. They're giving me injections every single day!"

Hank sounded like he was on the verge of tears. "What do we do then? We have no money, and we can't reach anyone. All my fair-weather friends are starting to dodge my calls!

"I've got a plan, Mildred. Just wait, and I'll find a way to get you out of there before we slowly settle scores with Victor."

Somehow, Hank managed to get his hands on a caregiver's uniform. He bribed a new janitor, so they could work together to smuggle Mildred out.

I decided to play along.

That evening, I called Samuel and told him that I'd had a nightmare about Mildred and couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. So, I requested his help to keep a close eye on her ward and do more rounds.

He brushed it off as nerves but promised to stay alert.

Around midnight, Hank slipped into Mildred's ward, disguised as a caregiver, pushing a cart piled high with dirty sheets. She was already changed and immediately hid at the bottom of the cart.

Everything went smoothly. They managed to bluff their way past the first security checkpoint and made it all the way to the back exit of the psychiatric hospital, where the bribed janitor was waiting outside.

However, just as Mildred crawled out of the cart…

"What do you think you're doing?"

The shout was followed by the blinding glare of countless flashlights, flooding them in harsh light. Samuel, along with the security team, had just happened to be doing rounds when they caught Mildred and Hank red-handed.

…

The consequences of the failed escape attempt were severe.

Mildred was classified as "extremely dangerous" and transferred to the maximum-security wing deep within the hospital. The windows were barely palm-sized, and the door had four layers of locks.

Her social range was restricted to a 100-square-foot room. She was completely confined.

To my surprise, she still found a way to call Hank. "We're out of options now, Hank."

Her voice over the bug was cold and desperate. "Victor has to die. Only then can I get out, get the money, and end everything.

"I'll find a chance to tell the doctors that my condition's improving and request to meet him. We'll do it at Timberline Lake, where it's remote and deserted at night.

"When the time comes, I'll push him into the water, hold him down, and tell everyone that he was depressed and jumped. As for me, I couldn't save him because I was having an 'episode.'"

"Sure. Let's do it!" Hank's voice was hard with a ruthless resolve. "This is our last shot, Mildred."

As I listened to the conversation through my earpiece, the smile on my lips slowly widened. I knew that when humans were backed into a corner with every exit bolted shut, their evil nature would be revealed without restraint.

The moment I'd been waiting for was here!

…

A few days later, I received a call from Samuel, who told me that Mildred had stabilized significantly. She no longer had any outbursts and could even hold simple conversations.

She strongly requested to see me at Timberline Lake, where we used to go on dates.

"Mr. Crane, we've evaluated her and believe that this could be a positive sign of a breakthrough, which might help her recovery. We'll have two caregivers present to ensure everyone's safety."

"…Alright. I'm willing to give it a try if it helps her get better." I reluctantly agreed.

…

On Friday evening, I parked my car in a small, distant grove, turned off the engine, and waited in silence. A few minutes later, a white van from the psychiatric hospital pulled up before the door opened. Mildred stepped out with two caregivers.

"Could you wait in the car? I'd like a few words alone with my husband. It won't take more than ten minutes," she said.

The caregivers exchanged a glance and nodded. It was all part of the pre-arranged plan.

Mildred took a deep breath, smoothed her clothes, and walked toward the man standing by the lake in a beige trench coat. It was my favorite coat, which I wore all the time.

With a splash, water splattered everywhere.

The man was swallowed by the freezing lake before he could even react. He gasped and sputtered, thrashing wildly in the water.

"Mildred, it's me!"

However, Mildred couldn't hear him, or rather, she didn't care. Without hesitation, she dived in after him and pinned his head down, forcing him under over and over again.

"Die! Just die, you bastard! You ruined everything!" she hysterically screamed, as if she'd completely lost her mind.

The man's struggle lessened until finally, the last string of bubbles vanished from the surface of the water.

Gasping for air, Mildred stood there with a satisfied, twisted smile.

She'd done it! She'd killed me! She could almost see freedom and fortune waving at her!

Just then, a curious voice drifted out from the darkness behind her. "Honey, what are you doing?"