On my 50th wedding anniversary, I took my worn, crumbling marriage certificate to City Hall to renew it.

The clerk glanced at it—and froze.

“This certificate is fake. Our records show you’ve never been married.”

I stared.

“Impossible. I’ve been married to Damien Slater for fifty years.”

The clerk pulled up his file.

“Well…Yes, Mr. Slater is married—but his wife’s name is Vanessa Grant.”

Vanessa.

His widowed sister-in-law. A military doctor who’d spent decades living among the troops.

My hands shook as I returned home and confronted Damien.

He didn’t even try to deny it.

“I’ve treated you well all these years. Isn’t that enough? Vanessa is my true love. I only ever wanted her—our children, our life.”

My son counseled me and said, “To spare your feelings, my parents kept it a secret their whole lives. You’re getting old now. What more do you want?”

Only then did I learn the truth. The child I had raised with my own hands was never mine by blood.

Decades ago, Vanessa and I gave birth on the same day.

To ensure her child would grow up with intellect, privilege, and a future that I could provide, Damien switched our children.

My own son?

Damien drowned him in the pond the moment he drew breath.

And I—fool that I was—raised Vanessa’s boy as my own.

I even got him all the way to Claremont University.

The truth broke me, and I collapsed.

When I opened my eyes again—I was back.

Back to the day I went into labor.

A familiar pain surged through me as I opened my eyes, and a blinding white light hung overhead.

“Look at our son, Tanya—look how adorable he is,” my husband, Damien Slater, said as he cradled a baby at the edge of the hospital bed, his smile warm and bright.

I glanced around the room, then at Damien’s youthful face, and the realization hit me: I had been reborn.

This was the very day I had given birth in my previous life—the same day my own child had been killed by this monster!

Panic ignited within me.

Ignoring the pain from childbirth, I reached for the baby.

“Give him to me!”

Damien handed him over.

I immediately unwrapped the swaddling, pulled down the baby’s pants, and saw it—a round, bluish birthmark on his bottom.

Blood roared in my veins.

This was the ungrateful child I had raised in my previous life! It was Damien and his sister-in-law, Vanessa Grant’s illegitimate son!

Damien smiled calmly as he attempted to deceive me.

“They say a birthmark on the bottom is a good luck charm. Our son will be carefree and successful.”

I sneered coldly.

Of course—because I had been the sucker raising him all these years, pouring my heart and soul into his care.

I had sent him to Claremont University, and he had told me not to mind Damien and Vanessa’s affair.

I wanted to tear this entire family apart at the thought.

But the immediate priority was finding my own son.

I forced down my rage and turned to Damien.

“How is Vanessa? And her child?”

A flicker of unease crossed his face.

“She’s doing fine. She gave birth to a son, too.”

“You take care of the baby. I’ll go check on her.”

With that, he got up and left in a hurry.

I watched coldly, then called a nurse over and whispered a few instructions.

Minutes later, I carried the baby into Vanessa’s empty hospital room. Both her and Damien were called away by the nurse.

My son lay abandoned on the bed, his breath weak.

Without hesitation, I swapped him with the imposter in my arms.

Holding the tiny bundle in my arms, tears pricked my eyes.

Even at our first meeting, I could feel it clearly—this was my son.

In my previous life, Damien had left under the pretense of going to the military base and had taken Vanessa along as a military doctor.

They had enjoyed themselves far away, returning to me only when they needed money or longed to see their child.

Meanwhile, I clung to a forged marriage certificate and raised their bastard as if he were flesh of my flesh.

I wore myself thin for them. Gave them everything. Sent their son to the prestigious Claremont University.

Not this time.

This time, I wouldn’t just reclaim what was stolen.

I would burn them alive with the truth.

I had barely returned to the room when Damien and Vanessa stepped in together.

Vanessa’s eyes locked onto my son the moment she crossed the threshold—wide, gleaming, hungry.

“Oh my, what a beautiful child,” she cooed, lips curling into a smile too bright to be real.

“So plump, so fair—look at those eyes. He’ll be brilliant, mark my words.”

She took one look at the cotton swaddling I’d wrapped him in and gasped.

“Cotton? How could you? It’ll chafe his skin.”

Before I could speak, she unrolled a bundle of silk garments—rich, new, stitched with delicate thread.

Then she leaned forward, arms outstretched, eager to take him from me.

I pulled him closer.

“He’s my son. I know how to care for him.”

She was never going to take him.

Her smile tightened as a flicker of irritation passed over her face—then vanished, replaced by something smoother, sharper.

“You’re right,” she said, voice honeyed.

“You’re well-educated. Of course, you’ll raise him well. He’ll make something of himself. I’m sure of it.”

Her gaze never left him.

There was a possessiveness about her look—a mother’s love, forged in lies.

Damien chose that moment to speak.

“We should choose a name, Tanya. What about Daniel?”

He’d prepared a list before the birth—names he’d pressed on me like gifts.

Daniel. His favorite. His one and only.

Now I had already known that Vanessa had chosen every name on that list.

I looked at him, cold as winter glass.

“No. His name is Kenneth.”

His mask cracked—just slightly.

“But we agreed. Daniel. It’s elegant. Perfect for our son.”

I held the baby out toward him.

“Then raise him yourself.”

The offer hung between us—simple, yet devastating.

He knew what it meant: if he took Kenneth, he’d have to care for him. To lie to him. To become the father he’d never wanted to be.

He shut his mouth.

Vanessa’s smile turned brittle.

“Since you named him yourself, Tanya… you must promise to give him everything. I’m counting on him to bring honor to this family. To rise above us all.”

I met her gaze.

“No need for you to worry. Take care of your own child.”

At that, her face darkened—the mask slipped.

“That little thing? A curse. A burden. Never liked him from the start.”

She glanced away.

“He died this morning. Just… stopped breathing. How unlucky.”

My blood turned to ice, and my palms slicked with sweat.

If I had been just a little late, I would have lost Kenneth forever.

And yet—they spoke of their dead child without grief, without remorse, as if speaking of a broken teacup.

I couldn’t help myself.

“Are you sure… he’s really gone?”

Damien’s eyes narrowed—not with sorrow, but contempt.

“Of course. Babies are fragile. That bastard had no father to protect him. Let him go.”

He turned to me then, voice softening into command.

“You must focus on this one, Tanya. He’s the only hope this family has left.”

Vanessa didn’t contradict Damien. In fact, she barely even reacted, her gaze fixed entirely on Kenneth.

“Exactly. That brat doesn’t even compare. Good riddance.”

I lowered my eyes, hiding my scorn.

I had once thought Vanessa’s obsession with my child came from grief over her husband and child.

Now, knowing the truth, I finally understood their twisted motives.

Suppressing my nausea, I dismissed them with a few curt words.

Then I made a trip to the morgue.

Sure enough, Vanessa’s son lay there.

I studied him carefully, confirming that this was the child they had drowned with their own hands.

On the way back to the ward, I deliberately took another way—but ran straight into Damien and Vanessa.

They clung to each other in a shadowed corner, kissing with abandon.

Vanessa panted as she pressed herself against Damien, her breath ragged.

“We’ve finally dealt with that nuisance. It was your son, after all—shouldn’t you feel bad?”

Damien’s eyes softened with affection.

“How could I? I only recognize our children. Tanya’s child was nothing but an animal.

“But she has her uses. Clever though she is, she still has to raise our son.

“And once we go to the base, no one will disturb us there. Haven’t you been waiting for this?”

Vanessa, her cheeks flushed, slapped his chest playfully.

“You tease!”

I felt my bile rise.

Taking advantage of their entanglement, I grabbed the nearest object I could reach and hurled it at them and ran.

The two of them were startled, too shocked to shout as they glanced around frantically.

I returned to the front desk, borrowed a phone from a nurse, and called my superior to request a transfer.

I had always been a top student at the university. After graduation, I married Damien, sacrificing countless opportunities for him.

Even when my superior suggested I develop my career in a more developed city, I refused because of my pregnancy.

But now, I would no longer be restrained. Even with a child in my arms, I would leave.

After being discharged and returning home, the first thing I did was retrieve the marriage certificate.

Damien, a colonel in the military, had somehow forged a seemingly authentic certificate for me while secretly registering a real marriage with Vanessa.

It was laughable—I had treasured a fake certificate for fifty years.

I tore it in half.

It was good that it was a fake.

I wouldn't have to bother with a divorce when I'd leave in a month.

Both Vanessa and I were in confinement after childbirth.

She lay in bed, waited on hand and foot, and Damien brought everything to her.

Sometimes, when he feared that overindulging her would reveal his deceit, he compensated by fussing over me.

“Her baby died, so she’s exhausted and worried. I am her only support.”

I said nothing.

He seemed blind to my struggles. Every task done alone, every hardship in solitude. Not once was there a word of concern.

Each night, when Kenneth cried, Damien would rise in irritation, saying he would sleep in another room, only to turn and go straight into Vanessa’s room.

The next morning, Vanessa smiled, covering her mouth in surprise.

“You’ve got it rough. Look at those dark circles—no sleep at all, huh?”

She gloated, basking in her small victories, unaware that I, too, had a smile on my lips as I turned away.

I began packing my belongings in secret while Damien, oblivious as ever, noticed nothing.

It wasn't until that evening when he returned holding an envelope, his expression grim.

“What’s this, Tanya?”

The envelope bore the large print of a transfer order my superior had sent.