My husband's foster sister was a walking disaster.

Every time she wreaked havoc, my husband brushed it off with the same tired excuse: "She's still a child."

When she saw that I worked as a school doctor, she clamored to be my assistant. Reluctantly, I agreed.

On her very first day, the chaos began.

A student came in with indigestion. I instructed her to fetch digestive aids; instead, she handed the poor child potent laxatives.

When caught, she blinked up at me with wide, innocent eyes.

"Well, if their stomach is emptied out completely, isn't that digestion?"

Later, with exams approaching, a stressed student sought help for insomnia. She gave them heavy-duty sleeping pills. The student slept until noon the next day, missing the exam entirely.

I pleaded with my husband to transfer her elsewhere.

He refused, shielding her as always.

"She's just a kid, Katherine. Be patient. Teach her, and she'll learn."

Then came Christmas.

She swapped the school's prepared mushroom soup ingredients for a batch of wild, unidentified mushrooms she'd found.

Luckily, I caught it in time. I dumped the soup before it could be served, averting a mass poisoning.

But word of her incompetence spread. Students and staff mocked her, whispering whenever she passed.

Unable to handle the gossip, the fragile "child" left a suicide note for my husband and jumped off a building.

My husband, Dominic Henson, read the note in silence. He handled her funeral without shedding a tear or speaking a word.

I thought he was grieving in his own way.

I was wrong.

On the seventh day after her death—the day her spirit was said to return—he tied me to a chair.

He cooked a pot of mushroom soup large enough for ten people and forced it down my throat.

He didn't stop until my stomach ruptured.

I was stuffed to death, drowning in agony.

Dominic cradled her urn in one arm and downed a bottle of poison with the other.

"Mushrooms don't kill people," he sneered, his eyes cold and dead. "If you hadn't been so nosy, Caroline wouldn't have died."

He stroked the urn. "She was pregnant with my child. My flesh and blood. Because of you, I have nothing left. I'm going down there to find her."

My vision blackened. Consciousness slipped away. His low, hateful murmur was the last thing I heard.

"Katherine Fox, if there is a next life, let's never meet again. Next time, I will have the courage to be with Caroline properly..."

When I opened my eyes, I was back.

——

The school corridor stretched before me. Christmas decorations hung from the ceiling. The sterile smell of antiseptic clung to the air.

This was the day Caroline tampered with the menu.

In the distance, she glanced around furtively before slipping into the kitchen. My body went rigid.

A thought struck like lightning.

I didn't hesitate. I spun on my heel and jogged straight to the surveillance room.

On the monitor, black-and-white footage showed Caroline Henson pulling a box of wild mushrooms from beneath her coat. She dumped them into the boiling soup pot.

My breath caught.

I really was reborn.

In my previous life, I had followed her into the kitchen. I had caught her in the act, scolded her, and dumped the soup.

I had saved everyone.

And in return? Dominic demanded I apologize to her because her feelings were hurt when people called her stupid.

She had been at the school less than a month.

First, she nearly dehydrated a student with laxatives.

Then, she caused another to fail a crucial exam with sleeping pills.

And finally, she tried to poison the entire student body.

If I intervened now, if I continued to clean up her messes, the cycle would only repeat.

In the last timeline, Caroline—spoiled rotten by Dominic—couldn't handle the mockery resulting from her own stupidity. She killed herself, and Dominic tortured me to death for it.

Phantom pain ripped through my abdomen. My stomach bursting. Soup flooding my lungs. The chair legs scraping against the floor as I convulsed.

A violent shudder wracked my body.

On the screen, Caroline hid the empty jar and sneaked out of the back exit.

I stared at the simmering pot of mushroom soup.

In my last life, Dominic claimed mushrooms couldn't kill people. He called me nosy.

This time, I wouldn't be nosy.

My hand reached out.

I turned off the monitor.

*Mushrooms can't kill people.*

Dominic's last words echoed in my skull.

Fine.

This time, I would grant his wish. I wouldn't interfere.

I wanted to see if Dominic Henson would still stand by those words when disaster truly struck.

I quietly backed up the surveillance footage to a secure drive and returned to the infirmary.

Less than ten minutes later, a frantic knock rattled the door.

Daisy Finch, a teacher, burst in and grabbed my arm. Her face was chalk-white.

"Dr. Fox! It's the cafeteria. The students—they're vomiting, having seizures. You need to come now!"

I let her pull me along.

The cafeteria was a scene from a nightmare.

Teachers had cleared the unaffected students, but a dozen children lay scattered across the floor. They clutched their stomachs. Groaned. Retched. One boy's legs twitched uncontrollably, his eyes rolling back.

Caroline stood frozen in the corner, her face drained of color, wringing her hands.

I assessed the room in seconds. Food poisoning. Severe.

"Call 911," I ordered Daisy. "We need ambulances. Now."

"No!" Caroline shrieked.

She jumped in front of Daisy, blocking her path.

"Don't call! They just... they just ate too fast! It's just an upset stomach. Sister-in-law, just give them some medicine, right?"

I looked at her as if she were a cockroach.

"Caroline, are you brain-dead? Look at them. Over a dozen students are in critical condition. Even a miracle worker couldn't fix this with a pill."

"Why are you making it sound so serious?" Her voice pitched higher, trembling. "It's a stomachache! If you can't treat a simple stomachache, Katherine, maybe you bought your medical license!"

A bitter laugh nearly escaped me.

You'd have to be clinically insane to suggest something so moronic while children foamed at the mouth three feet away.

Ignoring her, I signaled Daisy. "Make the call."

Heavy footsteps thundered down the hall.

The double doors flew open. Dominic Henson stormed in, chest heaving.

He swept the room with a predator's gaze—and his eyes skipped right over the writhing children.

They locked onto Caroline.

"Caroline!"

He strode past the sick students without a second glance and pulled her into a tight embrace.

The teachers froze. Confused looks passed between them. Why was the CEO hugging the assistant instead of checking on the victims?

"Brother..." Caroline sobbed into his chest. "What's wrong?"

He held her for a long moment before reluctantly pulling back. His hand stayed wrapped around hers, possessive, unwilling to let go.

My left eyelid twitched.

Dominic finally seemed to register the chaos around him. His body stiffened. Then his glare swung toward me.

"Katherine! What the hell is wrong with you? Why didn't you stop them from drinking the soup?!"

The accusation hit me like a slap.

*He knows.*

The realization struck instantly. Dominic Henson was reborn too.

I kept my face neutral, my voice confused. "I was in the infirmary working. How was I supposed to stop them?"

Dominic's eyes narrowed. He studied me, searching for a crack in my composure.

He wouldn't find one.

Sirens wailed in the distance.

Caroline went pale. She shrank back, burying herself deeper into Dominic's arms.

"Brother..."

Dominic knew exactly what she had done. In the previous life, this was the catalyst for everything. He rubbed her back, his voice dropping to a soothing whisper—intimate, tender.

It made my skin crawl.

"Don't be afraid, Caroline. I'm here. I won't let anything happen to you."

The natural intimacy between them. The way her body fit against his. The ease of his hands on her waist.

His confession before he killed me echoed in my mind.

*She was already pregnant with my flesh and blood.*

My gaze dropped to Caroline's flat stomach.

So they were already sleeping together.

Bile rose in my throat. The disgust was physical, violent. I turned away and gagged.

"Dr. Fox?" A colleague stepped forward, concern etched across her face.

"I'm fine," I choked out, waving her off. "Just... something I ate."

I focused on the paramedics rushing in, helping them load the children onto stretchers. The weight of their small bodies. The terror in their eyes.

Throughout the chaos, Dominic's gaze burned into my back.

He suspected me.

Let him suspect.

In this life, Dominic Henson's opinion was the least of my concerns.

I climbed into the back of an ambulance, desperate to put distance between myself and the monsters in that cafeteria.

At the hospital, chaos reigned.

Parents flooded the emergency waiting room—faces twisted with fear, with rage.

After I briefed them on the situation—poisonous mushrooms in the school lunch—the atmosphere shifted. Worry curdled into something violent.

One father, a burly man with tattoos crawling up both arms, spotted Caroline arriving with Dominic.

He roared and lunged.

"You! You're the kitchen assistant!"

Caroline shrieked and darted behind Dominic. Her trembling finger shot toward me.

"It was her! Dr. Fox made me do it! She said she wanted to demonstrate her medical skills to the board, so she forced me to poison the soup so she could save them!"

The parents turned on me. Murder in their eyes.

Dominic stepped in front of Caroline, adjusting his torn suit, his expression shifting into righteous indignation.

"That's correct," he lied smoothly. "My sister doesn't know the difference between salt and sugar; she's never stepped foot in a kitchen. How would she know which mushrooms are poisonous?"

He fixed me with a look of mock disappointment. "Katherine, I know the school is looking to replace staff. But poisoning children to secure your job? That is a new low, even for you."

Mob mentality took hold. The parents advanced on me.

"Is this true?"

"You monster!"

I stood my ground.

The urge to laugh nearly overwhelmed me.

"That's a fascinating story," I said, my voice cutting through the noise. "But let's look at the facts. I was hired by the principal personally because of my qualifications. I don't need to stage 'rescues' to keep my job. I could walk into any hospital in this city and be hired tomorrow."

My gaze locked onto Dominic's.

"I'm the head of the Christmas committee. I organized the event. If something goes wrong, I'm the first person investigated. Why would I sabotage my own event?"

I turned to Caroline, who was peeking out from behind Dominic's arm.

"And you. If you wanted to frame me, you should have covered your tracks better."

"What do you mean?" Caroline snapped.

But her eyes darted nervously.

I pulled out my phone, connected it to the waiting room TV via Bluetooth, and hit play.

"I have the surveillance footage."

The screen flickered to life.

The room went silent.

Everyone watched as Caroline Henson—clear as day—checked to make sure the coast was clear. Pulled the box of mushrooms from her coat. Dumped them into the pot.

She even stirred it.

Undeniable.

The silence shattered.

"You lying little witch!"

The tattooed father didn't hesitate. He bypassed me and launched himself at Caroline. Other parents joined the frenzy—slapping, pulling hair, screaming.

"Dominic! Help me!" Caroline screeched.

Dominic threw himself into the chaos, shielding her with his own body.

"Stop! Get back!" he shouted.

A punch meant for Caroline caught him square on the jaw.

I watched him defend her with such desperation.

Nothing stirred inside me but cold revulsion.

"Police! Nobody move!"

Officers swarmed the room, pulling the enraged parents off the battered couple.

Caroline was a mess—hair a bird's nest, face swollen and streaked with mascara and tears.

Dominic looked worse. The dignified CEO of the Henson Group was in tatters. Bespoke suit ripped. Face bruised. Muddy footprints stamped across his white shirt.

The lead officer scowled. "Brawling in a hospital? All of you, down to the station. Now."

Dominic whispered something to Caroline, then grabbed my arm and dragged me into a quiet corner while his assistant brought them coats.

His eyes were dark. Dangerous pits.

"I'm going to settle with these parents financially," he hissed. "You will delete that video. It never sees the light of day again. Do you understand?"

I yanked my arm free.

"Are you delusional? They just watched it on a sixty-inch screen. The police have it. What exactly do you think deleting my copy will do?"

Dominic stepped closer. His voice dropped to a menacing growl.

"If you hadn't stood by and watched, none of this would have happened. You knew. You let her do it."

He jabbed a finger in my face.

"Katherine Fox, Caroline is humiliated, and the company's reputation is at risk. And it is entirely your fault."