Chapter 2

My five-year-old caught sight of me and cried "Mommy" in that sweet little voice, then threw himself into my arms.

He blinked up at me with those big, innocent eyes.

"Mommy, Sabina's puppy is so cute. Why can't we keep it?"

Looking at him, healthy and full of life, my eyes stung.

In my last life, I stood there and watched them call him "the animal's son, not even human."

That soft little face, pinched black and blue by his classmates.

I went to the daycare teacher for justice, and she told me he "had it coming."

Little by little, he started hating school. Then he stopped talking altogether.

Those big, guileless eyes clouded over with something heavy.

But he was only five.

I stroked his hair, my heart aching, and explained gently,

"When we help someone, we have to take on the responsibility too. We're not sure we can take good care of a puppy, so we can't just say yes to whatever people ask."

He nodded, not quite understanding.

Looking into those bewildered eyes, I swore to myself: this time, I would protect my family, no matter what.

I was afraid Sabina Taylor had more in store.

That night, I installed tiny cameras inside the apartment and above the front door.

Two quiet weeks passed like that. Then the homeowners' association group chat blew up.

I opened it to dozens of messages, all tagging me.

【Animal abuser! Rotten to the core!】

【Dog-torturing scum! Get out of this neighborhood!】

【We seriously need animal protection laws! Thugs like this belong in jail!】

Before I could even process it, a frantic pounding started at my door.

The moment I opened it, a bucket of pig's blood hit me full in the face.

Some of them held cameras. Some held up their phones.

"Sadist!"

"Get on your knees and apologize to the dog!"

In the middle of the chaos, Sabina stood there cradling a dog soaked in blood, her eyes red.

"Martha, I understand you didn't want to board my dog. That's fine. But how could you take out your grudge against me on an innocent life?"

I was shaking all over.

That scene from my last life had come to pass after all.

Last time, she claimed the dog had been boarded at my place and accused me of abusing it.

This time, I refused to keep her dog, so she framed me for taking deliberate revenge.

I wiped my face and made myself calm down.

"Gathering a crowd to cause trouble is against the law!"

The words were barely out when a hand cracked hard across my face.

An extreme animal-rights activist lunged out of the crowd.

She was all flailing hands and bloodshot eyes, screaming,

"You worthless bitch! Torturing a pet to death, you deserve to rot!"

"You killed a living thing. You should be buried with it!"

Sabina held the dead puppy up to the cameras, sobbing and gasping.

"Martha, my dog was like my own child. You have a child too. If someone tortured your child to death, wouldn't your heart break?"

The noise outside woke my son. He came into the living room clutching his toy to look, and when he saw all those people, he shrank back into a corner, terrified.

Something whipped across my heart.

It had been the same in my last life.

My son, cornered by a pack of vicious kids at daycare.

They'd written "murderer's son" on his face in marker.

By the time I got to the school, he was curled up, trembling.

I shut the door, walked over to my son, and held him.

He lifted his tear-streaked face and asked me, "Mommy, why are they saying you're a sadist?"

His small body trembled in my arms.

I patted his back, over and over, soothing him. "They're bad people. Don't worry, baby. This time Mommy is going to keep you and Daddy safe."

I carried him to his room and had just gotten him to sleep.

Then my husband called.