I'm eight months pregnant when I suddenly faint on the train. My husband panics and cries for help as he kneels beside me.

An interning doctor hurries to me. She doesn't bother checking my condition before saying, "The patient needs to undergo a C-section! We have to get the baby out now, or it might die of suffocation!"

Then, she slices me open with a fruit knife—she doesn't take any precautionary measures before doing so. She takes my child out.

I'm in so much pain that I don't even have the strength to scream. My blood flows everywhere.

Yet, a photo of her holding my baby while standing in a pool of blood goes viral. People call her the prettiest doctor alive.

My husband and his family are eternally grateful to her. They don't go after her for causing my death; they even make her my child's godmother!

Meanwhile, I'm given a simple cremation. No one cares about me.

After my death, all my assets go to my husband and his family. Only then do I hear my husband and the doctor talking to each other, sounding smug.

"This plan killed two birds with one stone. We got rid of that woman and made ourselves out to be heroes!"

That's when I learn the interning doctor is my husband's junior from high school. They got together when he accompanied me to my prenatal checkups!

She failed her internship, so my husband came up with this idea—he wanted to use my death to boost her reputation and help her!

Even my child eventually died under their "care".

When I open my eyes again, I'm taken back to the day we get on the train.

I just regained my senses when I saw my husband, Kyle Cromer, sitting beside me with a bottle of water in his hand.

"You've been asleep for a while, Sylvia. Here, have some water," he said, unscrewing the cap before offering it to me.

In the past, I might have been touched by his thoughtfulness. But now that I experienced death and just got a second chance at life, I questioned everything.

When I was eight months pregnant in my past life, Kyle abruptly insisted on taking me back to his hometown to give birth. He claimed his mother could take care of me and forced me onto a high-speed train that would take seven to eight hours.

I refused at first, but he punished me with a week of silent treatment. Heavily pregnant and left alone without anyone to rely on, I eventually caved.

Yet not long after we boarded the train, I suddenly lost consciousness and didn't wake up no matter how hard Kyle tried to rouse me. Instead of asking the train attendant for help, he yelled for assistance at the top of his lungs.

It just so happened that Stella Gibson was sitting a few rows ahead. The moment she heard the commotion, she stood up.

Without a proper examination, she glanced at me and declared, "I'm an OB-GYN! We have to perform an emergency C-section immediately, or the baby could suffocate!"

With no disinfection or sterilization, she took a paring knife and sliced open my belly. Blood gushed out, drenching everything around me.

Even though my eyes were closed and my body was unresponsive, I was fully conscious—I felt every bit of the pain. I felt her hands digging around inside my abdomen. I wanted to scream, but no sound came out.

The air around us was thick with tension as everyone held their breath.

Finally, Stella pulled the baby out. The umbilical cord still connected us, but she barely spared it a glance before cutting it carelessly and raising the baby high above her head.

Standing in a pool of blood, wreathed in light, she looked like an angel who descended to earth.

The baby's cries were filled with pain, but the bystanders mistook them for the strong, healthy wails of a newborn and were moved to tears.

Voices of admiration rang out from all directions.

"She's an angel in white! She just saved a young life!"

"Oh my goodness, this is so moving! I need to film this!"

"Listen to that cry! It's the sound of life itself!"

Kyle stood beside her, holding onto her hands, thanking her endlessly. Not a single person spared me a glance as I lay sprawled on the ground, my belly split open. I bled until death finally claimed me.

Later, the photo of Stella lifting the baby high above her head went viral. She earned the title of "the most beautiful doctor" and was offered the position of a guest physician at a top hospital.

The Cromer family expressed their endless gratitude to Stella, assuring her she bore no blame for my death. They even dedicated a commemorative plaque to her and had my child acknowledge her as his godmother!

Meanwhile, my body was rushed through cremation, going unnoticed and unmourned. Every asset I owned ended up in the Cromers' hands.

That was when I learned that Stella was Kyle's high school junior and his first love. They found their way back to each other during my prenatal checkups.

Stella was set to start working at a hospital, but she failed her intern evaluation. That was when Kyle came up with this plan. He turned my death into her stepping stone to fame.

I loathed them so much that I could practically feel my teeth grinding to dust. I never thought I would come back to life at this exact moment.

Kyle urged me to drink some water again when I remained quiet, his impatience creeping into his voice. "Come on, Sylvia, drink up. Your lips are so chapped. Even if you don't feel like it, think about the baby. At least have a few sips for the baby's sake."

The way I suddenly lost consciousness in my past life was so suspicious that I couldn't help but suspect Kyle's involvement. And now, with him practically forcing the bottle against my lips, warning bells blared in my mind.

I pressed my lips together, turned my face, and muttered through clenched teeth, "I'm not drinking that!"

Kyle didn't expect such a sudden show of defiance from me. His frown deepened as if he wanted to insist, but I shut my eyes before he could.

"I'm exhausted. I'm going back to sleep," I said.

I figured there wasn't much he could do to me if I pretended to sleep for the rest of the trip.

But I never expected Kyle to suddenly get to his feet and raise his voice for everyone to hear. "How can you be such an irresponsible mother? Do you not see what kind of condition you're in? The baby needs nutrition! How can you refuse to eat or drink?"

The other passengers were unaware of what was happening and turned to look. All they saw was a heavily pregnant woman with an impatient expression while Kyle played the part of the concerned husband.

Naturally, they assumed I was being difficult and began to criticize me.

"The baby comes first during pregnancy! You can't just be so reckless as a mother!"

"Exactly! You're carrying a life inside you. It's not about what you want. It's about what the baby needs!"

"Look at your husband, being so considerate that he even opened the water for you. Just drink a little, won't you?"

"You're a mom now. Your baby should be your top priority! If you're not going to care for your baby, then why did you have one in the first place?"

The barrage of scolding made my ears ring.

Kyle quickly brought the water bottle to my lips again. His voice was gentle, but his eyes gleamed with excitement. "Do you hear them, Sylvia? Everyone's calling you out. Just drink the water!"

The moment the bottle nearly touched my lips, I shot up, clutching my belly. "My stomach hurts. I have to use the restroom!"

I dashed into the train's toilet and locked the door behind me, leaving Kyle seething.

It wasn't until I was inside that I noticed my face and body were drenched in cold sweat. Maybe if I stayed there until the train reached its stop, I could avoid the disaster from my past life.

But I was barely inside for five minutes when Kyle's voice rang out, accompanied by loud knocks on the door.

"What's taking so long, Sylvia? You've been in there forever! You're pregnant—you shouldn't be in there for so long. Come on out!"

I remained silent, and he only pounded harder. Soon, he began ramming his shoulder against the door, each heavy thud making my chest lurch as if the door might give way at any time.

Suddenly, the banging stopped.

I thought he finally gave up, but his voice rang out outside, sharp with alarm. "Attendant! Over here! My wife's inside this restroom, and she's not responding! She's eight months pregnant. I'm afraid she might have passed out!"

The train attendant rushed over and knocked on the door. "Ma'am, are you alright? Please open up if everything's fine. We'll force the door open in one minute for your safety!"

I had no choice but to step out.

The moment I did, Kyle grabbed my arm and pulled me aside, his voice tight with frustration. "Why didn't you say something if you were fine, Sylvia? You nearly scared me to death!"

He was helping me back to my seat when a child suddenly bolted down the carriage. I felt Kyle's grip loosen intentionally.

The child slammed into me, sending me crashing to the floor. A sharp pain tore through my lower abdomen. My water broke, and my mind went blank.

I clung to Kyle's sleeve, gritting my teeth as I said, "I'm fine. Just help me get back to my seat."

But Kyle feigned panic and shouted, "Help! Someone help! Is there a doctor on board? My wife is about to give birth!"

Across the carriage, a man sprang to his feet and rushed over. "I'm a doctor! I'm coming!"

Relief washed over me—until, out of nowhere, the child suddenly collapsed.

A woman's wail tore through the air, her voice twice as loud as Kyle's. "Billy! What's wrong, Billy? Don't scare me!"

The train erupted into chaos.

The woman latched onto the doctor, sobbing. "Please check on Billy, doctor! What's happening to him?"

Fighting through the pain, I forced out the words. "My water broke, doctor. Can you please check on me first?"

I barely finished speaking when the woman wailed even louder. "Billy has a history of heart disease! What if that bump made it worse? You have to check on Billy first, doctor. His lips are turning blue!"

The other passengers hesitated, their eyes darting between Billy and me. I was pale, but at least I was still conscious. Billy was completely out, and his breathing was growing weaker.

They wasted no time dragging the doctor over to check on him.

"Why are you fighting a kid for the doctor?"

"You're about to be a mother. How can you be this coldhearted?"

I was still fighting it when Stella came over and exchanged a glance with Kyle. She made a quick decision, just like she did in my past life.

"I'm an OB-GYN! We have to perform an emergency C-section immediately, or the baby could suffocate!" she declared.

I refused immediately. "You can't operate on a moving train! I could get a serious infection if you perform a C-section—"

Stella cut me off sharply. "Who's the doctor here, you or me? It doesn't matter where we are. We have to save lives! Do you want to risk both your life and your baby's? This is your child. Are you going to stand by and let the baby die inside you?"

Kyle jumped in. "This is our first child, Sylvia. Trust the doctor. No matter what happens, I'll be right here with you!"

He and Stella were clearly in this together. There was no way I could trust him.

I turned to Stella and said, "You claim to be a doctor—prove it then. Where's your medical license? How can we be sure you're not lying if you won't even show it?"

A passenger who saw my repeated refusals stepped forward in support. "Yeah, that other doctor showed us his medical license before treating Billy. Show us yours if you want us to trust you to deliver this baby."

Stella's expression flickered, but she held her ground. "I-I'm on vacation! I don't have it with me. Who carries their medical license everywhere? But you can look me up. I'm a real medical school graduate. You shouldn't doubt me."