My son was caught in a car accident. My husband said that without a cornea donor, he would be trapped in darkness forever.

Heartbroken, I let him sweet-talk me into signing away my corneas.

Blind, I overheard my son gloating, "Dad, the plan worked. Mom fell for it, and Rachel's got her sight back. She won't be miserable anymore."

"Yeah, now we're a real family with her," replied my husband.

The truth gutted me. They'd played me like a fool to save my husband's old flame. When I confronted them, Rachel Huffman shoved me down a staircase, and I died in agony.

But when I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of my son's car accident.

The phone blared, and my husband's voice crackled through. "Come to the hospital! Karl had an accident!"

That call hit like a sledgehammer, yanking me back to the day that shattered my life. I was reborn, thrust into the moment where it all began.

In my last life, my husband and our son had conned me into giving up my corneas, leaving me blind and broken.

I took a steadying breath and replied, "Got it."

My voice was calm, but inside, my heart pounded with purpose. I grabbed my purse, headed downstairs, and hailed a cab to the hospital.

In the ward, Tyler Finley threw his arms around me, his sobs theatrical and rehearsed. "What are we gonna do? Karl's lost his sight in a car crash."

I peeled myself from his clammy embrace and walked to the bed. Karl Finley lay there, his cheeks flushed with a healthy glow that screamed he was faking. He didn't look like someone who'd just survived a wreck.

His injured vibe was a total sham, but I'd fully trusted them in my past life, offering up my cornea without a second thought.

To ensure a clean donation, the doctors had removed my entire eyeballs, but the searing pain of losing my sight was nothing compared to the betrayal I overheard later.

It was all a twisted scheme to save Tyler's mistress, Rachel Huffman.

I let out a shaky sigh, gratitude for this second chance flooding my veins. They'd crushed me once, but this time, I'd make them pay a heavy price.

Tyler's sweaty hands clamped onto my shoulders. "Don't fall apart, honey. We gotta stay strong and save our boy."

I ripped the blanket off Karl and slapped him hard across the face. His cheek ballooned instantly, my handprint glowing red.

He didn't even blink, but a tiny twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed his act.

Tyler grabbed my wrist, his eyes wide with shock. "What are you doing? He's hurt. You think he's faking this?"

His words only stoked my fury. Still not satisfied, I grabbed my purse and swung it at him like a baseball bat, each hit fueled by years of betrayal.

Tyler, desperate to keep their charade intact, lunged to stop me.

I collapsed to the floor, covering my face and sobbing for effect. "You went racing cars like some reckless idiot! Now you're blind because you wouldn't listen to me. I begged you to stay home and study. What am I supposed to do now?"

Tyler's tense shoulders eased slightly. He thought he'd dodged a bullet. "Honey, calm down. What's done is done."

I spun and cracked him across the face. "This is on you! You pushed him to race those damn cars!"

His jaw dropped, his eyes bugging out in disbelief. Then he stammered, "It was my fault. Hit me if it makes you feel better."

Watching him choke down his pride felt like sweet, ice-cold revenge.

The door swung open, and a doctor strode in.

I recognized him. Matteo Skinner was one of Tyler's sleazy friends.

"I'm so sorry," he said, his face a mask of regret. "Karl's eyesight is likely gone for good."

He handed me a diagnosis report. In my last life, that same paper had sealed my fate. I'd swallowed their lies whole, never suspecting Tyler had roped him into forging it.

"Karl's too young to live in darkness forever," Matteo went on, piling on the fake sympathy. "A cornea transplant is his only shot."

Tyler jumped in, playing the devoted dad. "Money's no object. I'd sell the house, the cars, everything for him."

Matteo nodded gravely. "Problem is, the hospital is out of corneas. It could be a two- to five-year wait."

Right on cue, Karl burst into tears. "I don't wanna be blind, Mom. Save me."

His wails were gut-wrenching, designed to break any mother's heart. But I knew better this time.

"There is one option," Matteo said, his tone heavy. "A family member could donate."

"Mom, please," Karl pleaded desperately. "I can't live like this."

Tyler pulled me aside, his eyes glistening with fake tears. "He's just a kid with his whole life ahead. As parents, we'd take any pain to help him, right? A mother's love is the strongest force in the world."

I cut through his manipulative bullshit. "So, what exactly are you saying?"

He hesitated, then went for it. "Maybe you could donate your corneas to Karl. I swear, within a year, I will give everything to find a donor for you."

I stared at him, disgust curling in my gut. In my last life, I'd fallen for this sob story and signed the donation papers while Rachel waited in the next room, ready to take my eyes.

I gasped, playing the part. "If I do that, I'll be blind. How am I supposed to take care of you and Karl?"

"Don't worry, babe," he said, his voice smooth as silk. "I'll take care of you both."

That was a load of crap. In my last life, he'd let me die.

Karl grabbed my hand. "Mom, help me. I'll take care of you, I swear. Don't you trust me?"

I stayed silent, which pissed Tyler off. His mask slipped, and he snapped, "What kind of mom doesn't sacrifice for her kid? Where's your maternal instinct?"

When sweet-talking failed, he tried to guilt-trip me. I reached into my purse and pulled out a fake medical report I'd prepared that morning.

"It's not that I don't want to, but I've got viral hepatitis," I said. "I'm not eligible to donate."

"What?" Tyler's face crumpled like a cheap paper bag.

He shot a desperate look at Matteo, who gave a reluctant nod, confirming my statement.

I twisted the knife. "A father's love is just as strong, Tyler. Why don't you donate your corneas to Karl?"

"What? No way!" Tyler sputtered, waving his hands.

"What's the problem?" I pressed. "You said you'd do anything for Karl. Backing out already?"

He forced a stiff grin, his teeth practically grinding. "I'd do anything for him. It's just..."

I didn't let him finish. "Great. I'll find the doctor to book your surgery right away."

I took one step toward the door before he yanked me back. "If I go blind, who's gonna put food on the table? We need to think this through."

I spun to Karl. "I wanted to help, but I couldn't. Your dad is just flat-out refusing. If you're pissed, take it up with him."

"Let's go home for now," Karl muttered. "We'll deal with the surgery later."

Tyler jumped on it. "Yeah, you two handle the discharge papers. I gotta talk to Matteo."

I watched him scurry off, no doubt rushing to soothe Rachel in the next room. I slipped out after him, keeping to the shadows.

"Rachel, hang tight," Tyler whispered. "Stephanie's got some health issues. She can't donate yet."

Rachel collapsed into his arms, sobbing. "I can't take it, Tyler. I'll never see your sweet smile or Karl's goofy grin again."

"Your eyes are too gorgeous to stay dark," he cooed, stroking her hair. "I'll make sure Stephanie signs that donation form."

"But if she goes blind, won't I be the villain?" Rachel muttered.

"You're a rising star in the art world," Tyler said with a smug chuckle. "Her corneas helping you create masterpieces? That's her damn privilege."

I nearly laughed out loud at his audacity. I'd like to see what other tricks they'd pull.

Back home, Tyler dragged Karl into the study for a private chat.

I plopped onto the couch and opened the surveillance app on my phone. That morning, I'd paid a guy to install hidden cameras all over the house that morning. Now every corner was under my watch.

In the study, Karl tore off his fake bandages, his face red with frustration. "What now, Dad? I can't keep playing blind forever."

Tyler's jaw tightened. "Keep up the act. Mope around, throw tantrums, and act like your life's over. Make your mom feel sorry. She'll scramble to fix her hepatitis and donate those corneas. You'll just have to suck it up for a while."

Karl nodded. "Anything for Rachel."

His words hit like a punch. I had raised nothing but a traitor.

I'd cooked his meals, bought him clothes, and driven him to training classes, hoping he would shine one day. But now, he was plotting against me for another woman.

The next day, Karl leaned into his role. He turned sullen, barely speaking, and started smashing things. By day three, he'd locked himself in his room, screaming he'd starve himself to death.

I didn't flinch. Instead, I dialed up the fanciest hotel in town and ordered a spread fit for royalty.

I was starving, and this way, I didn't have to cook for that ungrateful brat. We'd see who could hold out longer.