On the screen, Maisie was happily chomping on extra-spicy barbecued beef, washing them down with a large cup of ice-cold soda. She laughed like she didn’t have a care in the world.

Meanwhile, my taste had always been on the lighter side. Now, with the pregnancy symptoms tormenting me instead of her, I was drenched in cold sweat, retching nonstop.

Furious, I called her. When she picked up, she acted like nothing was wrong, her voice fake.

“Oh, hey, Clara. Why are you up so late? I’m just out eating barbecue. If it’s nothing important, don’t bother me, okay? Oh, and please don’t tell Mom about this. You know how she nags too much.”

I couldn’t take it anymore. I shouted, “Maisie, what the hell have you done to me? Why is it that ever since you got pregnant, every single side effect has become mine?”

On the other end of the line, she ignored me and ordered even more spicy food. It made me vomit so violently that my whole body trembled.

Maisie put on her innocent act as she said, “Clara, are you paranoid? I’m just a pregnant woman. How could I possibly do anything to you? You’re just jealous that I’m carrying the baby and getting Alex’s attention. Is this your pity play?”

Then, she lowered her voice like she was giving me an ultimatum. “Tell you what. If you admit you’re faking it, I’ll stop eating.”

She ordered even greasier, spicier food. My stomach convulsed until I was crying in pain.

Finally, I broke. “Fine! Yes, I’m faking it! Just stop it already, please!”

The very next second, a man’s furious voice thundered through the phone. “Clara! You’ve disappointed me beyond words!”

It was my husband, Alex.

Maisie burst out laughing and hung up.

After another wave of vomiting hit me, my body collapsed, and with the last bit of strength I had, I dialed 911.

The ambulance came just in time before I blacked out for eight hours. When I woke, the doctor told me I had collapsed from dehydration and shock due to severe pregnancy reactions. However, after running all the tests, they still couldn’t find a medical cause.

“There’s nothing unusual here. Do you have any clue what might be going on?” the doctor asked.

I didn’t answer. Instead, I signed the discharge papers on the spot and rushed home to approach the one who conspired in this. The moment I saw Maisie, I grabbed a kitchen knife and pressed it to her throat.

“Clara, what are you doing?” she gasped.

Refusing to play along with her act, I glared at her swollen belly and growled, “Cut the act. Tell me. Why are all your pregnancy side effects showing up on me?”

Maisie widened her eyes and put on a pitiful expression. “You’re imagining things. You must really have paranoia.”

I shoved the blade closer to her stomach. “Stop the fake act. Speak!”

She shrieked. “Okay, okay! I’ll tell you!”

However, before the words left her mouth, she burst into fake tears. “Alex, help me!”

I didn’t notice Alex sneaking up behind me until he yanked the knife from my hand and kicked me hard in the chest.

“Clara! How dare you threaten Maisie? Do you have a death wish?”

Then, Susan rushed over and slapped me across the face.

“You little tramp! I thought you’d matured, but you’ve been plotting this all along! How dare you try to harm my grandson? I’ll kill you first!”

Alex and Susan immediately called the cops, insisting I needed to be punished.

When the police arrived, Alex played a recording from that night.

“Officers, my wife claims Maisie transferred her pregnancy symptoms to her, but listen carefully, she admitted that she was jealous.”

Then came my own voice in the recording, “Fine! Yes, I’m faking it!”

The officers’ faces hardened instantly, and they cuffed me on the spot.

“Throwing a jealous tantrum to this degree? This is absolutely irrational,” one of them scolded.

I struggled, desperate to explain, but then I caught sight of Maisie in the corner, smiling as she bit into a mango.

The allergic reaction hit me instantly. It felt like invisible hands clamped around my throat, choking me. My limbs convulsed, my vision went black, and I clawed for help.

Alex just sneered. “See, officers? She’s putting on another act. Now you can witness it yourselves.”

I clenched my fists tight, forcing out my last breath as I collapsed into the arms of a female officer nearby.

“I’m not faking it… Please, I beg you. Take me to the hospital.”

The officer looked at my pale face and finally realized something was wrong. She quickly tried to help me out of the door. However, Alex and Susan stood in the way, refusing to let me leave unless I apologized to Maisie first.

“If I catch you trying to hurt her again, I’ll divorce you on the spot!” Alex shouted.

Then, everything went black.

When I woke up again, I was in the hospital. The doctor was scratching his head in frustration.

All the tests came back normal, and he couldn’t explain why I suddenly went into anaphylactic shock. Unable to figure it out, he finally suggested that I should see a psychiatrist.

I let out a bitter laugh and told him to just give me sleeping pills and painkillers. With no better options, the doctor prescribed me a stack of medication and sent me on my way. The police also concluded it was just a family dispute, so they didn’t press any charges against me.

Taking advantage of the chance, I packed up some things and decided to stay with my parents for a while. Thankfully, they trusted me completely. They took me for more check-ups, and after finding nothing still, they told me to rest.

I nodded with a smile, but suddenly, a stabbing pain tore through my lower abdomen. It felt like invisible hands were ripping my uterus apart, and blood began flowing uncontrollably.

Panicked, I pulled out my phone and searched Maisie’s social media account. There she was, branding herself as a “hot single mom” while livestreaming her workout.

On screen, she bounced up and down in a waist trainer, belly nearly five months pregnant.

“Ladies, if you don’t stay slim, men won’t love you! Even pregnant, you’ve got to manage your body!”

Clutching my stomach in agony, I shook with rage. Every nerve in me wanted to tear Maisie apart.

Just then, my phone rang. A strange, unfamiliar number lit up the screen. The moment I answered, I finally understood what was really going on.

In the days that followed, Maisie skyrocketed in popularity online with her gimmick of being a pregnant fitness streamer. Even though she was already in her second trimester, her slim figure made plenty of expectant moms jealous, and her fan base grew rapidly.

Fitness influencers jumped at the chance to ride her wave of fame, joining her livestreams for workout challenges. Maisie welcomed it all, even launching her own “three-hour workout challenge” online.

In my past life, that exact challenge was what caused my uterus to collapse, and I bled out until I died. However, this time, I sat comfortably at home, eating ice cream and cradling a bowl of popcorn, waiting to watch her livestream.

When the big day arrived, Maisie’s stream instantly shot to the number one spot, with her appearing in tight shapewear, bouncing along to the music. However, after only five minutes, her expression twisted. She suddenly froze in place.

The comments exploded in concern, and Alex, along with Susan, rushed to ask if she was feeling okay. However, when she noticed viewers beginning to leave the stream, Maisie clenched her jaw, forced a smile, and prepared to keep going.

The moment she leapt again and landed, she wet herself right in front of over a hundred thousand viewers. Yellow liquid streamed down her legs uncontrollably, while she, clutching her stomach, collapsed in pain and fainted on the spot.

Watching it unfold, I laughed so hard I nearly fell off the couch.

Moments later, my phone rang. Alex’s furious voice roared through the line. “What the hell did you do?”