After receiving the report for an STD test, I went back to the barbeque restaurant, and there I ran into a young woman who was about three months pregnant. She asked me to let her cut in line, and, feeling sorry for her, I agreed to help her out.

I quickly made arrangements for her and made sure she had a seat.

But to my shock, after she finished her meal, she had a miscarriage.

The girl posted about the incident online, and before I knew it, I was trending on social media, facing a wave of cyberbullying.

The internet users went even further, digging up my health records and finding that everything came back positive.

[She's positive for everything—she's clearly a woman with a messy private life!]

[No wonder she caused the woman's miscarriage just by being near her—she's a biological hazard!]

The cyberbullying got so bad that it pushed me into depression. Even my fiancé turned against me, accusing me of being filthy and breaking up with me.

The emotional weight became too much, and in my pain, I drove straight into a reservoir.

Meanwhile, the girl gained millions of followers online and skyrocketed to fame as a popular influencer.

It was only after I died that I learned the shocking truth—this girl was my fiancé's first love.

To boost her own popularity, she and my fiancé had come up with this entire scheme together.

When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day when she asked me to let her cut in line.

"Hi, Miss. My baby is hungry. Could you please let me cut in line? I heard your barbeque is amazing. I think my baby and I are in for a treat today."

The familiar voice reached my ears.

Without thinking, I lifted my gaze and found myself looking at a sweet, innocent face.

The suffocating feeling of being submerged in icy water still seemed to linger in my nostrils, making me instinctively gasp for air.

The cold air, mixed with the scent of barbeque, rushed into my chest. That was when I realized—I had been reborn.

I had returned to the day when the young pregnant woman, Zoey Winsor, came to my barbeque restaurant and asked to cut in line.

"I'm three months pregnant, and I can't eat anything, but I've been craving your barbeque. Please let me cut in. If something happens to my baby because it's hungry, you wouldn't want to live with that guilt, would you?"

Zoey gently rubbed her slightly rounded belly, swallowing saliva as she spoke.

The other customers, noticing her hungry and anxious state, began speaking up in her defense.

"Are you really going to let her go hungry like that?"

"With a heart like that, your restaurant's going to fail one day."

"If you don't help her, and something happens to her baby, it'll be on you."

Even my fiancé, standing beside me, joined in.

"It's just letting her cut in line. Why the sour face? They say business thrives on good relationships, but with that attitude, who will ever want to come back? Seriously, can't you just smile and let her sit down?"

In my past life, Zoey had also asked to cut in line in a similarly pitiful way.

Seeing her pale face and hearing everyone's pleading made me give in and arrange a seat for her.

What I didn't expect was that, halfway through her meal, she suddenly complained of feeling unwell, and, in front of everyone, she had a miscarriage.

The other customers immediately began accusing me of serving dirty food. Even my fiancé joined in and called me a heartless business owner, accusing me of using subpar ingredients and causing the death of an innocent child for profit.

I pulled out my purchase receipts to prove I was innocent.

But that very night, my barbeque restaurant and I became the target of online outrage.

Zoey created a post online, claiming that my food had caused her miscarriage.

[I never thought my craving for barbeque would cost me my baby. They said her restaurant was clean, so I went. I'm so sorry for my baby. The doctor said I might never be able to get pregnant again. Ladies, take it from me—don't ever eat at a place like that.]

As if that wasn't enough, some people dug up my medical records from the disease control center.

[Who even does these tests for STDs? I'm sure you all know the answer]

A so-called doctor from a major hospital posted my positive STD test results online.

The red circles around my positive results were highlighted.

[Three positives—this basically makes her a biological hazard! To all of you out there, a biological hazard means that even touching her could be dangerous. No wonder someone who was perfectly fine ended up miscarrying just by eating at her restaurant.]

My social media accounts were flooded with insults, and I eventually got banned. The barbeque restaurant was destroyed by extreme online users, who stormed and set fire to it—five years of hard work gone in an instant.

I appeared on a news show to clarify things, but my fiancé publicly accused me of having a messy private life, which had caused me to become infected. In front of the entire nation, he called off our engagement.

Unable to bear the blow, I drove into a reservoir, lost in my despair.

After my death, Zoey used my tragedy to gain millions of followers and became a top influencer.

The day after my death, my fiancé collected all of my inheritance and compensation. He married Zoey and started a business, making a fortune.

It turned out that Zoey was my fiancé's first love.

And the child she was carrying had already died in her womb before she ate at my restaurant. To get famous, she and my fiancé had carefully orchestrated this entire scheme.

The murmurs around me grew louder, and the disapproving glares of the crowd seemed to fixate on me.

When I didn't say anything, Zoey placed a hand protectively over her stomach, her eyes filled with hurt.

"We're really hungry," she said softly. "Please, let me cut in line. I'll pay double the price."

Zoey reached for her phone to pay, but I quickly stopped her and replied coldly, "You're pregnant. If anything happens, my restaurant can't bear the responsibility. Please, go eat somewhere else."

Zoey looked stunned by my bluntness, her eyes brimming with tears in an instant.

"I'm just pregnant; I haven't done anything wrong. Why won't you let me eat?"

As Zoey spoke, she swayed slightly, and the customers around her hurried to grab a chair for her to sit.

One of the customers suggested that Zoey go eat elsewhere for now, but she shook her head miserably.

"I have severe morning sickness, and I can't keep anything down. The doctor said I should eat whatever I can manage, or I'll lose the baby," she spoke while looking at me, her eyes full of accusation and pain.

"I didn't expect the owner would turn me away. I can go without eating, but my baby can't go hungry."

As Zoey's pale face turned more ashen, murmurs of outrage swept through the restaurant.

"How could you be so cruel? How could you let a pregnant woman go hungry?"

"I heard she's been engaged for two years but still hasn't married. Maybe she can't have children, and that's why she's jealous of others."

"Bah! People like her don't deserve to have kids!"

My fiancé, Laurence Ball, stood up after handing Zoey a glass of water. He turned toward me, his face filled with anger.

"So this is what you've become, being cruel to a complete stranger? Where did the person I loved go? No wonder you're still not pregnant even though we've been together for five years. If you can't have kids, you should get checked out, not make life hard for a pregnant lady!"

Laurence's words made it clear—he was accusing me of jealousy and intentionally making things difficult for Zoey.

The eyes of everyone in the room seemed to burn into me, as if trying to pierce through me.

I was shaking with rage, wanting nothing more than to slap Laurence right across his arrogant face.

I took a deep breath, forced myself to calm down, and looked at the person who had been the loudest.

"If you're so compassionate, let her share your table. If anything happens to her after she eats, you'll be fully responsible," I said.

The man's face flushed with embarrassment as he quickly backed away, retreating to the back of the crowd.

"Pregnant women are already prone to complications. If any of you are willing to take responsibility for her, I'll arrange a table right now," I said, scanning the room. When I met their eyes, they quickly looked away.

I sneered internally.

Just moments ago, they were all standing on their moral high ground. But as soon as they were asked to take responsibility, none of them dared to speak up.

Just when I thought I had managed to avoid Zoey's miscarriage in my restaurant, Laurence suddenly shoved me.

"You really have no compassion," he spat.

I didn't expect him to push me. I stumbled and fell to the ground, my keys, phone, and medical report scattering everywhere.

When Laurence saw the medical report, he quickly snatched it up.

Zoey, standing beside him, casually read the report aloud.

"Chlamydia positive, gonorrhea positive, HIV positive. Patient: Dakota Lennings."

With a loud gasp, everyone in the room took several steps back, quickly distancing themselves from me.

I was about to explain when Laurence slapped me across the face.

"You filthy woman. I can't believe you're infected with all these diseases!"

He turned to explain to the crowd, "I haven't slept with her in two years."

Instantly, the entire restaurant erupted in shocked whispers.

The crowd in the restaurant erupted into loud whispers, each person eager to voice their opinion.

"She's got all these diseases—just how much has she been messing around?"

"No wonder she can't have kids. Looks like she's been used up long ago."

The man I had called out earlier stepped forward, puffing out his chest. Without hesitation, he splashed a cup of water right across my face.

"With all these diseases, how dare you even show your face here! What if you infect us? How disgusting. I'm embarrassed for you! I feel sorry for your fiancé. He seems like a decent guy, but he ended up with someone like you."

Seeing the man's actions, others followed suit, throwing their leftover food at me and shouting for me to get out.

In less than two minutes, I was covered in a mess of drinks and food.

I turned to look at Laurence, hoping to see some sign of concern or compassion on his face.

But all I saw was disgust. His words were cold and cruel.

"What are you still doing standing here? Are you trying to infect all of us?"

Zoey, acting fragile, bit her lip and gently tugged at Laurence's sleeve.

"Don't say that. There must be some kind of misunderstanding."

She glanced at me, then quickly looked away, as if she were afraid to meet my eyes.

"We're all women here. I believe she's not like that."

Her words seemed to strike a nerve with the crowd. What had just calmed down flared up again.

Some people even pulled out their phones and started livestreaming the whole scene.

The sounds of tips and donations flooded in.

I didn't even need to look to know that the livestream was packed with viewers.

There was someone on my left livestreaming too. I caught a glimpse of the screen.

The comments were filled with praise for Zoey, calling her beautiful and kind-hearted.

Meanwhile, the insults toward me kept coming.

Zoey clutched her stomach and leaned gently against Laurence's shoulder, looking fragile.

It might appear like she was unsteady on her feet, but I knew it was all an act.

"Even though the test results say you have all these diseases, as long as you explain, I believe everyone will trust you," Zoey added.

But Laurence scoffed. "Explain what? The facts are right there in black and white. Dakota, not only did you sleep around, but you've even infected yourself with all these diseases. Good thing I haven't been with you for the past two years. If I had, I would've been infected too.

"Today, in front of everyone, I'm breaking up with you. Our engagement is over."

At those words, the entire restaurant erupted in applause.

"Good job! A filthy woman like that should've been ditched long ago. We support you!"

As the crowd cheered, Laurence stood tall, proud.

But his gaze toward me remained as sickening and full of contempt as ever.

I pulled off the engagement necklace around my neck and threw it at Laurence's face.

"I was going to break up with you anyway. With how much you're helping her make my life difficult, I would've thought you two were sleeping together."

Laurence sneered, "Dakota, stop trying to shift the blame and accuse me. There's nothing going on between Zoey and me."

I scoffed. "Just earlier, you were calling her a stranger, saying you didn't know her. Now you know her name is Zoey? And you still claim there's nothing between you two?"

Laurence instinctively glanced around the room, realizing that the way people were now looking at him and Zoey had changed. The suspicion in their eyes was unmistakable.