In my past life, I toiled away at the Lincoln family and treated my in-laws like they were a king and a queen. I also gave my stepson the best education possible and helped him get into a renowned college.

Yet, I later ended up dead on the street. My stepson said, "You're not my mother. You'll never be her!"

He breaks my legs, kicks me out of the house, and watches as I starve to death. It's only after my death that I find out he's the illegitimate son of my husband and his true love!

When I open my eyes again, I'm back to the day my husband, Simon Lincoln, brings my stepson home.

"Eunice, I've completed all the paperwork and brought him home," Simon Lincoln said as he guided a boy who appeared to be around ten years old toward me.

"Come on, this is your mom from now on," he encouraged the child.

The word 'mom' hit me like a bolt of lightning. My whole body shuddered, and I nearly dropped the water glass in my hand. I quickly looked up toward the source of the voice and met a pair of eyes as dark as night.

Simon was holding Owen Lincoln's hand while giving me a warm, affectionate smile. A wave of nausea suddenly washed over me, and I gulped down several mouthfuls of cold water until my stomach began to cramp uncomfortably before I finally set the glass down.

"Eunice, are you alright?" Simon's voice was filled with concern, his eyes brimming with worry.

Every gesture he made was thoughtful, as if I were his entire world. Since our marriage, he had always put me first and accommodated my every need.

Even when I could not bear children, he took the blame and told everyone it was his problem. Yet, this seemingly perfect husband would eventually conspire with his stepson to take my life.

"Dad, does Mom not like me?" Owen's words jolted me back to reality—it was just like my previous life.

At first, I truly believed Simon could not have children. However, I accidentally discovered my medical reports in his drawer—I was the one who could not bear children.

I looked at Simon, feeling guilty for letting him shoulder the blame and criticism from others all these years.

Having witnessed everything, Owen claimed I was deliberately ignoring him and did not like him. This resentment persisted until the day he drove me out of the house.

"No, she doesn't dislike you. She's just overwhelmed with joy," Simon quickly responded.

I walked over to Owen and crouched beside him, fighting my disgust as I gently patted his head. "Yes, your dad is right. I don't dislike you at all. I love you very much," I said, assuring him.

Owen looked at me skeptically before asking, "Really?"

I nodded firmly. "Of course it's true."

Simon smiled contentedly. "This is perfect. We finally have a son, and my parents will be relieved too. Eunice, why don't we invite them to stay with us?"

I agreed without hesitation. After all, family should stay together. Or suffer together.

Simon's parents arrived incredibly fast the next morning. His mother, Irene Truman, made herself comfortable on the couch and beckoned Owen over. "Come here, my precious grandson. Oh, aren't you just adorable?"

Owen snuggled into Irene's embrace, appearing perfectly well-behaved. However, no one knew that Owen had developed a pretty nasty personality under the influence of Simon's former flame, Yuna Grover.

I had given Owen the best of everything in my previous life because I did not want him to feel burdened. However, what I thought was care and love became chains of restraint in his eyes.

His gaze toward me gradually shifted from genuine gratitude to indifference, and eventually to hatred. Of course, Simon's parents and Simon himself played their part in fostering that transformation.

I decided to step back in this life. Whatever Owen became would have nothing to do with me, Eunice Campbell.

During dinner time, Simon guided me to the kitchen, urging me to start preparing the meal. I turned to look at Owen and said, "What's the rush? We haven't even asked Owen what he'd like to eat yet."

Simon smacked his forehead as realization hit him. "You're right! I completely forgot about that. Owen, what would you like to eat? Tell us, and we'll make it for you."

A knowing smile played on my lips. What did he like to eat? Of course, I knew exactly what he wanted.

Sure enough, Owen spoke up timidly the next second. "Dad, can I have some fried chicken and a burger?"

"That's just junk food," Irene chimed in, her tone firm yet caring. "Why don't you let your mom make you some homemade pot roast instead?"

I immediately removed my apron and said, "Mom, let Owen eat what he wants. Besides, how can you say they aren't nutritious? The chicken patty is still made with real chicken, after all."

As soon as I finished speaking, Owen ran over to me. He exclaimed, "Mom, you're the best!"

Jack Lincoln's face darkened instantly as he spoke with bitter sarcasm, "Simon, I don't think you invited us to the city to enjoy family time—you just wanted to upset your mother and me!

"You've been married for so many years without any kids, and now that you've finally adopted one, you're not even raising him properly. What exactly are you trying to do?"

Irene quickly chimed in, "Exactly! I guess you just can't truly love a child who isn't your own blood."

Simon furrowed his brow and retorted, "Mom, Dad, how many times do I have to tell you? Our inability to have children isn't Eunice's fault—it's mine!"

He stormed into the bedroom and returned moments later with a hospital diagnosis report. His parents glanced at it briefly before quickly turning away, unwilling to look at it again. Then, they mumbled incoherently, unable to form a proper response.

In my previous life, Simon's act had completely fooled me. It was also why I spent 30 years slaving away for his family like a devoted servant.

I let out a cold snort and ignored the three of them. Instead, I handed my phone to Owen. "Don't listen to your grandparents' nonsense, Owen. Order whatever you want. I have money, and I'll pay for it."

Owen was still young and could not distinguish right from wrong. He only knew to bond with whoever showed him kindness. Since he yearned for this kind of affection, I would give it to him.

After placing his order, Owen thoughtfully asked his grandparents if they wanted anything. Irene shook her head with a sour expression and said, "I wouldn't eat that unhealthy junk. If you want to eat it, that's your choice."

She added sternly, "This food has no nutritional value. You can only have it this once, understood?"

Owen pressed his lips together and remained silent as he looked at Irene. I observed their interaction, noting that they did not behave like people meeting for the first time.

Perhaps they had met several times behind my back. Then again, I would not be surprised. In my previous life, I had been deceived by Simon for far too long, which was why I had missed even these small but telling signs.