After being reborn, the first thing I did was switch my newborn daughter.

In my previous life, soon after she was born, a blood test showed her type was AB. But mine was B, and my husband's was O—there was absolutely no way we could have an AB-type child.

My husband flew into a rage and demanded a paternity test on the spot. To everyone's shock, the results proved she was biologically related to me, but not to him.

He slapped me hard across the face, his voice trembling with disappointment. "I've always treated you well. I only ever loved you—and this is how you repay me?"

My mother-in-law wailed and cursed me for cheating, accusing me of bearing another man's child to steal their family fortune.

I was completely stunned. I knew better than anyone who the father of my child was—how could she possibly not be my husband's?

In no time, everyone turned against me. They called me a cheater, a tramp. My husband divorced me and went online to play the victim, stirring up a storm of hate and harassment that never seemed to end.

With nowhere to go and no one left to believe me, I took my baby in my arms and jumped from a building. Even in death, I couldn't make sense of it all.

And when I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my daughter was born.

The Day I Was Reborn

"Roxy, you did great. I'll take our daughter for her checkup later."

Jensen Highmore's voice rang gently beside me as he held our baby in his arms, his expression soft and tender.

A sudden chill ran through me as I jolted awake to the realization—I had been reborn. There was no time to think about how or why. I quickly spoke up to stop him. "No need. I'll take her myself. Didn't you say you had to work overtime? You don't have to stay here."

Jensen froze, glancing at me uncertainly. "That's not really a good idea, is it? You just gave birth…"

The more he hesitated, the more anxious I became. I reached out toward him. "I've rested for a day already. I'm fine. It's better if I take her myself."

In my past life, it was right after that checkup that our daughter's blood type came back as AB. Jensen had stormed into the room, furious, and demanded an explanation. Then came the paternity test, the accusations, the slander. When the results showed she wasn't his child, he'd thrown me out of the house with nothing, calling me a cheater and destroying my life. Even now, just remembering the lies he spread about me sent a cold shiver down my spine.

Before Jensen could hand over the baby, his mother let out a sharp, mocking snort beside him. "Some people think giving birth makes them royalty. My son's been breaking his back taking care of the baby, and she still wants to order him off to work overtime. Lazy good-for-nothing. If you can't even give us a son, you might as well admit you're a curse!"

Ever since I'd married Jensen, my mother-in-law had treated me like dirt—never a kind word, never a pleasant face. Jensen was devoted and dutiful, so for his sake, I'd endured everything in silence. But the more I tolerated, the more arrogant she became. She acted as though the hospital ward were her own living room, spitting venom without a shred of shame. Even the other women in the room began to frown.

"That's out of line. A father taking care of his baby is the least he can do."

"You've had children yourself—you know how hard it is. How can you speak to your daughter-in-law like that?"

"Exactly. It's the modern age. Stop clinging to that old-fashioned preference for boys over girls."

My mother-in-law was used to having things her way, so to be criticized instantly made her blood boil.

Jensen quickly jumped in. "Mom, Roxy's my wife. Taking care of her and our daughter is my responsibility. Honey, I'll take Mom home to make you some chicken soup. I'll be right back."

He wore that same strained, peacemaking expression—trying to please everyone at once. Sure enough, the sympathetic looks from those around us began to fade.

I simply watched in silence, cold and distant, and took my daughter back into my arms. The tiny mole on her finger confirmed what I already knew—this was my biological child.

Jensen hadn't switched our baby yet. He hadn't insisted on taking her for the checkup himself. But then, how had she ended up with an AB blood type? And what about that paternity test?

With suspicion twisting inside me, I called my parents and asked them to take care of my daughter for a while. Coincidentally, the hospital had an abandoned infant in the nursery—an O-type baby girl. I took her in temporarily, slipped my daughter's hospital tag onto her wrist, and sent her for the checkup instead.

This time, I was going to find out exactly how Jensen planned to frame me.

The Trap Replays

After the checkup, I carried the baby back to the ward. Not long after, Jensen arrived with his mother, carrying dinner. "Roxy, I made you some chicken soup. Come—drink it while it's hot."

As soon as he opened the thermos, the rich aroma of chicken soup filled the room. Jensen handed me a bowl with a smile. "If you like it, I'll bring it every day. Don't ever feel bad about asking for anything. My salary card's with you—buy whatever you want."

He looked at me tenderly, his gaze full of affection and concern. The other mothers in the ward couldn't help but glance over in envy.

"A man who dotes on his wife like that is rare these days. He earns money and takes care of his family."

"So lucky. With a husband like that, life must be easy. She can just stay home and raise the baby."

"Unlike my husband—he insists we split every expense down to the last dollar."

I glanced at Jensen, who met my eyes with that same sincere, glowing look—the perfect picture of a devoted husband. In my past life, he had fooled everyone with this same act, painting himself as the innocent, loving man while destroying me behind the scenes. Everyone had believed him.

This time, I wasn't going to play along. I set down my spoon and let out a cold laugh. "Give it a rest. You didn't even make this soup—it's takeout you ordered with my family card. You pretend to be generous by handing over your salary card, but every single thing I buy gets questioned like an interrogation. Even if I spend two dollars on bread, you demand an explanation. And when your mother bullies me, all you ever say is to 'let it go.' Don't kid yourself—you've never really cared about me."

The women who had been praising him now turned their suspicious eyes toward Jensen.

He hadn't expected my outburst and stared at me in shock, pretending to look hurt. "Honey, what are you talking about?"

Before I could answer, a nurse came in holding several medical forms. Jensen seized the opportunity like a lifeline and hurried over. "Let me see the baby's test results."

His mother crowded in behind him, while I was subtly left standing aside. Watching the two of them huddled together, an uneasy feeling twisted in my gut.

A moment later, Jensen's eyes went wide. "Why is the baby's blood type AB? That's impossible!"

His mother let out a shriek. "My son's blood type is O! How could he have an AB-type daughter?"

Then she turned her fury on me, her voice sharp enough to pierce glass. "Roxanne, what did you do? This child isn't a Highmore!"

The commotion drew a doctor over, who frowned and scolded, "Ma'am, please don't shout in public."

However, that only emboldened her. She grabbed the doctor's coat and began wailing, "Doctor, tell us what's going on! The mother's blood type is A, the father's is O, but the baby's came out AB—how is that possible?!"

The doctor frowned deeper. "Normally, A and O blood types can't produce an AB-type child, but—"

She slapped her thigh and cut him off. "I knew it! It's that shameless woman, Roxanne!"

Jensen continued his performance, lowering his head with a heavy sigh. "That can't be, Mom. I believe Roxy. Maybe the babies got switched."

But the nurse quickly interjected, "That's impossible. Our procedures are extremely strict. Every newborn wears an identification band right after birth—there's no way they were switched."

In just a few exchanges, the narrative was set—and I was the villain once again.

Jensen's mother glared at me with hatred, crying out dramatically, "Heavens, how could we have let a woman like her into our home?! She'd fooled around with another man and brought his bastard into our family! What a disgrace!"

The ward filled with murmurs and pitying sighs. Jensen turned to me, his face dark with fury. "Roxanne Wenner, what have I ever done to you? Why would you betray me like this?"

The Proof He Wanted

I stared at Jensen, unable to find any words. After so many years of marriage, I'd longed for this child with all my heart. But Jensen had torn those dreams apart with his own hands, showing me that all along, it was nothing more than my own wishful thinking.

When I didn't respond, a flash of triumph glimmered in his eyes. His mother, emboldened, pointed at me and began to curse, spitting venom with every word. "I knew you were trouble from the start—always swaying your hips around the house, trying to seduce someone. Even when you gave birth, the delivery room was full of men! Shameless woman, flashing yourself for everyone to see! Don't think you can steal our family's fortune. I'll make sure the truth comes out!"

Her voice was sharp enough to cut glass, stabbing into everyone's ears. I turned to Jensen with a cold gaze. "You think the same too?"

He straightened, feigning righteous indignation. "Even if you're my wife, I can't accept something like this. I've always treated you well, given you everything you wanted since you got pregnant—and this is how you repay me? I won't be anyone's fool!" He sounded so wounded, so noble, as though he were the victim of some great betrayal.

I put on a look of hurt, covering my face as I said, "So you've decided I cheated, just because of a blood test? Jensen, I really misjudged you. How could you slander me like this?"

The other mothers and family members in the ward, who had already seen how cruel his mother was, began to frown. Whatever image Jensen had built as a loving husband was crumbling fast.

"A different blood type isn't proof of anything. Accusing her of cheating over that? That's ridiculous."

"Yeah, this kind of thing should be double-checked. What if it's a mistake?"

"I thought you really loved your wife, but I guess you're just another mama's boy—no trust at all."

Jensen didn't get angry. In fact, there was a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes. He seized the moment and said smoothly, "Let's do a paternity test then. If the blood type can't prove it, the test will. Once the results are out, if this child isn't mine, you leave with nothing. Do you dare?"

I gave a short, cold laugh. "Why wouldn't I dare? But if it turns out you've accused me wrongly, you'll walk out with nothing."

Jensen's face lit with smug excitement—he thought victory was already his.

We went straight to the DNA testing center and gave our blood samples on the spot. Along the way, Jensen made sure everyone knew what was happening. He posted multiple videos online, the story spreading like wildfire. Calls from relatives poured in, and even reporters followed us from the hospital to the testing center. Jensen, ever the actor, welcomed the attention—eyes red, voice trembling as he told his sob story of love and betrayal.

I watched him coldly, my mind racing. I had double-checked before the exam—the baby's blood type had been O. So how had it come back AB? The only explanation was that something had gone wrong during the checkup. But Jensen's confidence was unsettling. Why was he so sure?

Then it hit me. A spark of realization flashed through my mind, and I quickly lowered my head to text my parents.

When we stepped out of the testing center, Jensen looked utterly certain of his victory. "Roxanne, you'll pay for what you've done. You brought this on yourself!"

I remained calm. He had no idea that no matter what the results said this time, things wouldn't go the way he expected.