My husband's sister was pregnant when she leapt from the building.

Her final phone call wasn't to him. It was to me.

When the police asked for clues, I said nothing.

When my in-laws knelt and begged, I watched them coldly.

Yet my husband never divorced me. If anything, he treated me even better than before.

Then, after I became pregnant, my nightmare truly began.

He tied me to the bed and summoned a group of vagrants, ordering them to take turns violating me. He said he wanted me to taste despair.

I became pregnant again and again, only to miscarry every time.

In less than a year, I lost my ability to bear children. Half my body was paralyzed.

My husband, Chris Macken, spent a fortune hiring a foreign research team capable of extracting memories from the human brain. I became an experiment.

"Jenny, the day you let my sister die with injustice hanging over her head, you should've known this day would come!

"She treated you like family. And you repaid her by working with her killer to destroy her. This is your retribution!"

I lay bound to the bed like a corpse, listening to Chris's hysterical curses. Every word cut like a blade.

"No… that's not how it was!"

"Then how was it?" he roared. "Say it!"

He grabbed my collar, eyes bloodshot as he demanded the truth.

The words reached my lips—only to be swallowed back down. Despair crept into my voice as I begged.

"I can't say it. Please don't force me."

His expression stiffened, then twisted into something monstrous.

"Put the device on her. Extract her memories now. I don't care if she lives or dies—I want the truth!"

His hatred for me had reached its peak.

He locked me inside a glass chamber and had it transported to the city's central plaza. Hundreds of media outlets were invited to witness what he called the unveiling of the truth—what was, in reality, a public execution.

Two years ago, countless people had seen Lisa Macken—five months pregnant—jump to her death. The case drew enormous attention, especially since the police had never solved it. Over time, the incident only continued to fester.

The moment news broke that the case would be reopened, the plaza flooded with people. Shouts rose like waves.

In the audience, my father-in-law supported my mother-in-law, who refused to sit down.

My silence back then had dealt them a devastating blow. They'd urged Chris to divorce me—only to be refused. The resentment had never faded.

Now, realizing Chris's painstaking intentions, my mother-in-law wept uncontrollably.

"Do you know how I've lived these past two years?" she screamed. "You venom-hearted animal! I wish I could tear open your chest and see whether your heart is black!"

My father-in-law patted her back, his eyes hollow with grief.

Lisa had been entrusted to them by a close friend. There was no blood relation, yet she had been closer to them than a biological daughter.

I watched everything through the glass, choking on sobs that made no sound.

At Chris's signal, a helmet-like device lowered over my head. Hundreds of fine silver needles sprang out and pierced directly into my scalp.

In an instant, it felt as though hundreds of leeches were sucking at my flesh. The tearing pain forced screams from my throat.

Chris listened to my shrill cries, excitement flickering in his eyes.

"Sir," one of the technicians said nervously, "her body is too weak. If we don't administer nutrients first, this could be fatal."

"Absolutely not!" Chris snapped, eyes blazing with malice. "Inject adrenaline. Let her die after the memories are extracted!"

The technicians hesitated, but under his authority, they could only comply. A syringe of adrenaline was pushed into my body.

As the liquid surged through me, my entire being jolted into an unnatural state of stimulation.

The memories buried deep inside began to churn.

…

At Lisa's grave, Chris had already been kneeling for two hours.

I approached with flowers in my arms. Looking at Lisa's smiling face in the photo, my eyes reddened.

Just two days before her death, we'd gone shopping together.

As I bent to place the flowers down, Chris suddenly snatched them from my hands and smashed them into my face.

"Don't stain my sister's grave!"

I trembled, bitterness lodged in my throat.

"Chris… about Lisa's death, I'm hurting more than anyone…"

The words only enraged him.

Without warning, he dragged me to the ground. My head slammed hard against the gravestone, blood instantly staining the engraved letters.

Yet, he showed no mercy. He pressed me against the icy stone, roaring in my face.

"Jenny, my sister died because of you! And you dare cry here like this?

"She was on the phone with you for ten minutes before she died. What did she say? Who was the killer? Speak!"

Faced with his relentless accusations, I stopped struggling. My gaze went empty as I stared at Lisa's photograph.

The projected memory fell briefly into darkness.

But the crowd in the plaza erupted.

"What kind of act is this? Crocodile tears—do you think we're fools?"

"A vicious woman like you should die to atone!"

Their fury blurred into noise as agony tore through my head again.

After Lisa's death, I thought Chris would abandon me.

Instead, he treated me with even more care.

He defied my in-laws and close friends alike, willing to turn against everyone for my sake.

True or not, that trust felt like warmth in the dead of winter. I was deeply moved.

So when Chris said he wanted a child, I agreed without hesitation.

Those days became the happiest period of my marriage.

But the moment I was told I was pregnant, the illusion shattered.

I took the water Chris handed me and drifted into unconsciousness.

When I woke, I was bound to a cold metal bed.

I struggled wildly, screaming his name.

Blinding lights flared on. Chris opened the iron door and walked in. The gentleness he once wore was gone—his eyes were as cold as if he were looking at a corpse.

"What did my sister say to you on that phone call?"

In that moment, he tore away his final mask.

I smiled bitterly. I'd anticipated this, yet my heart still clenched painfully, leaving me almost unable to breathe.

"Fine," he said coldly. "If you won't talk, we'll see whether your mouth is tougher—or my methods are."

As he spoke, he lifted my shirt, his fingers tracing my abdomen while a chilling smile spread across his face.

"Chris, what are you trying to do? That's our baby!"

My cry did not awaken even a shred of conscience in him. He suddenly clenched his fist and slammed it into my abdomen.

I screamed as a violent spasm seized my belly, a piercing pain tearing through me.

Yet, more than the pain, it was fear that overwhelmed me. That was his flesh and blood—how could he be so cruel?

As that memory resurfaced, it felt as if I were lying on that iron bed once again. The despair came rushing back, so vivid that I suddenly retched uncontrollably.

The vicious curses rang in my ears. Beside me, Chris watched with a cold, mocking smile. In that instant, a single thought took hold of me.

I wanted to die.

When blood spilled from the corner of my mouth, the technicians panicked.

"She bit her tongue—stop her, now!"

At once, Chris tore the helmet off my head and clamped my jaw in his grip, fury blazing in his eyes.

"Bitch! Without my permission, you don't get to die!"

Medical staff rushed to treat my wound and stuffed cotton into my mouth to prevent me from killing myself.

Once even death was denied to me, I simply gave up.

The sudden incident earned no pity from the crowd. If anything, their shouts grew more frenzied.

"She's trying to kill herself to escape punishment! I bet the real killer is her lover!"

"Trash like her deserves to be cut into a thousand pieces!"

The machine was connected again, and new images surfaced in my memory.

It was a spring outing—the three of us together.

Lisa suddenly shoved me into Chris's arms, laughing as she teased, "I accept you as my sister-in-law. Take this chance to get closer to Chris!"

Blushing furiously, I pulled away from his embrace and chased after Lisa in embarrassment.

The lawn was filled with our laughter.

When Lisa appeared on the screen again, my mother-in-law shot to her feet, trembling all over.

"Lisa, my daughter! You died so miserably! I never should've listened to you and let this ungrateful wretch live in our home! Why wasn't it this bitch who died instead…?"

Her grief struck the crowd deeply. Many eyes reddened, and some extremists even climbed onto the glass chamber, trying to drag me out for judgment.

The scene shifted. I stood before an apartment building.

Someone quickly recognized it—it was the place where Lisa had jumped.

After her death, most residents had moved away. Only a handful remained.

Why Lisa had chosen this place was still a mystery.

Seeing it again seemed to pull Chris back into that bleak day. His hands began to tremble uncontrollably.

"Lisa… I was careless. I didn't even realize you were pregnant. If only I'd spent more time with you…"

Suppressing the sob in his throat, he gripped my shoulders tightly, pouring all his resentment onto me.

"Speak! Are you mute? My sister treated you so well—do you have any conscience at all?"

I shook my head in despair. The pain wracking my body was nothing compared to the agony crushing my heart.

"Chris… let this go…"

"Let it go?" he exploded. "She was a living, breathing person! And you want me to forget? How the hell can you even say that? I want to kill you!"

In an instant, Chris snapped. His grip tightened violently, and I could faintly hear the sound of bones cracking.

As pain spread through my limbs, the gentle, tender face I knew so well surfaced in my mind. Hot tears streamed down my cheeks.

Suddenly, the projected memories began to shake violently.

Alarmed, a technician shouted, "Sir, there's a memory buried in the deepest layer of her brain. If we force it out, she may become a vegetable!"

Chris's pupils quivered.

"You're still resisting?" he demanded coldly. "Is that person really worth it?"

When I remained silent, his fury erupted.

"Push the device deeper! I want to see how long she can keep hiding the truth!"

The technicians dared not defy him. They advanced the instrument.

I felt the needle pierce into my brainstem. Pain exploded like a tidal wave, and darkness crept into my vision.

"Her vital signs are dropping rapidly—"

Before the doctor could finish, Chris grabbed two syringes of adrenaline and injected them into me without hesitation.

The next second, I gasped like a drowning person, my body jerking violently as my heart rate slowly climbed back up.

Watching this, Chris let out a savage laugh.

"Jenny, this is what you deserve. Once I know the truth, I'll give you a clean end."

I had no strength left to answer him. Chaotic memories crashed wildly through my mind.

In a dimly lit room, Chris tore my nightgown apart, exposing my naked body.

He clapped his hands.

From the darkness emerged several unkempt men, their eyes gleaming as they ogled me eagerly.

"Chris, what are you trying to do?"

"What am I trying to do? Isn't it obvious? I want the truth. If you won't talk, then I'll let these vagrants take good care of you…"

Chris gently stroked my cheek, yet his touch sent a chill through my entire body.

"Chris, I'm hiding the truth for your sake. Please believe me!"

"For my sake?" Chris let out a mocking laugh. "Jenny, have you no shame? Even now, you refuse to repent. You're rotten to the bone! I'll pry that mouth of yours open!"

With a casual wave of his hand, several vagrants surged forward, their leering gazes so ravenous it was as if they wanted to devour me alive.

"Chris, don't… I'm carrying our child…"

I cried out, my voice breaking.

Chris glanced at my slightly swollen belly, disgust written plainly on his face.

"You think you deserve to carry my child? Then you can experience the pain of losing one too!"

Laughter spilled from his lips.

The vagrants could no longer restrain their lust. They piled onto me all at once.

Like beasts, they tore at me, biting and pawing at my body with savage hunger.

I screamed and begged, pleading with them to spare me—spare the child in my womb.

But my suffering only excited them further. They violated me in increasingly twisted ways.

I watched helplessly as the iron bed was stained red with blood, crying out to Chris through unbearable agony.

Yet, he remained utterly unmoved.

In that moment, I finally understood.

Chris's patience—his restraint—had all been for this revenge.

For revenge, he was willing to use even his own child as a bargaining chip.

I was consumed by despair and completely gave up resisting.

Hours passed. I lay there like a piece of rotting flesh, yet Chris still did not let me go. What awaited me was endless torment, with no light in sight.

As the shocking images played out, the plaza fell into a brief silence.

Some women condemned Chris, accusing him of humiliating women and crossing a moral line.

But far more people watched with malicious delight.

"Chris really treats us like insiders! I wonder if he'd let us join in next time?"

"A life for a life—what Chris did is perfectly justified!"

At the bedside, Chris looked at me with a mocking smile.

"What? Starting to reminisce about those days again?

"You didn't really think I'd have a child with you, did you? A vicious woman like you—worthy of carrying my bloodline? Dream on!

"I just want you to experience the despair my sister felt back then. This is the price you pay for hiding the truth!"

His words were like a demon's whisper, carving a deeper wound into my already shattered body.

Pain, hatred, and profound helplessness swirled in my eyes.

"I didn't say anything—for your sake!"

"Stubborn to the end!" Chris shouted furiously. "This is no longer up to you!"

The device continued to burrow deeper and deeper. I had completely lost control of my body. Involuntary reactions wracked me, blood spilling continuously from my mouth.

Lisa's image began flickering across the projection.

Overcome with excitement, Chris urged impatiently, "Deeper! Keep going—don't stop!"

The technicians hesitated.

"Sir, the device has never gone this deep into a human body. This could kill her!"

"What are you afraid of?" Chris snarled. "If someone dies, I'll take responsibility. If you don't want the job, get out—now!"

By this point, Chris had completely lost his sanity. He shoved the technician toward the controls, forcing him to continue.

As the button was pressed, the images dissolved into chaos… then suddenly froze on a single moment.

It was the instant I pushed open the door to the apartment balcony.