I stared at the pregnancy test report in my hands,rooted to the spot.
My heart raced wildly, refusing to settle.
Passersby assumed I was just overjoyed at the news of my pregnancy.Little did they know I was reeling from the fact that I’d been reborn.

Not long ago,Steven Carter had shoved me off the tenth-floor balcony,leaving me broken and battered.
Yet here I was,miraculously uninjured.
Steven was my husband Daniel Harris’s best friend,but after Daniel’s death,I discovered their relationship wasn’t what it seemed.
They were lovers.
Daniel married me for one simple reason:his parents insisted he produce an heir,or they’d never accept his relationship with Steven.
I was merely their means to an end.

Daniel died in an accident when I was seven months pregnant.At the time,my in-laws got down on their knees and begged me to keep the baby.They promised to raise it, sparing me any concerns.
Drowning in grief over Daniel’s passing,I didn’t think too deeply about their sudden plea.I assumed they were influenced by stories of widows aborting after losing their husbands.I reassured them I’d definitely give birth.
I never imagined their true motive:once the baby was born,they planned to take the child and cut me out of their lives.
Later,I overheard Steven talking with Daniel’s parents.They presseured Steven to marry me and have another child with me.That way,even though he and Daniel couldn’t have a child together,their children would be related by blood,fulfilling their long-standing bond in a perverse way.

Steven flatly refused.He claimed Daniel’s child was his own,and he would take care of Daniel’s parents as if they were his own,but he didn’t want anything to do with me.My existence,he claimed,sullied his love with Daniel.
Fearing they resort to underhanded tactics to keep my son,I packed my things to flee the city.But as I was leaving,Steven caught up with me.
He snatched my body from my arms and,to eliminate any future threats,pushed me off the tenth-floor balcony,making it look like a suicide caused by postpartum depression.
Thankfully,I was given a second chance.This time,I wouldn’t let him get away with it.
Daniel called,eager to know the test results.
I could hardly believe this seemingly gentle and caring man was a fraud.If his parents hadn’t confirmed Steven’s involvement,I might’ve thought it was all Steven’s crazy idea.
“Emily,what’s wrong?Say something,”Daniel’s worried voice came through the phone.
If I didn’t know he was gay,I’d think he was genuinely concerned about me.But now I knew he only cared if I was pregnant—the sole reason he married me.
I quickly composed myself.
I wasn’t reborn to endure the same suffering.I needed time to plot my revenge.