My Unborn Baby and the Floating Comments Told Different Stories

I lifted my eyes to the tightly closed bedroom door.

My steps halted, and my fingertips hovered in midair, refusing to reach for the handle.

At that exact moment, lines of floating comments appeared before my eyes.

[Don't touch the doorknob. There's no surprise waiting inside!]

[Your husband, Herman Cooper, and your best friend, Emily Clarke, were all over each other in there just moments ago!]

[Emily's hiding behind the door right now with a knife in her hand, waiting for you to walk straight into her trap!]

I didn't even need to think back.

The memories of my second life surfaced on their own.

The dull agony of a blade sinking into my chest.

Herman sitting on the bed, quietly watching me.

The cruel smile lingering at the corner of his mouth had never truly faded from my memory.

My whole body trembled. The muscles in my legs tightened as I instinctively took half a step back.

But at the same moment, a childish voice echoed from deep within my abdomen—the thoughts of the baby growing inside me.

[Mommy, don't believe those comments. Daddy was preparing a surprise for you when his low blood sugar acted up and he passed out!]

[He sent you a message before he collapsed. Check your phone and go help him! Otherwise, Grandma and Grandpa will blame you for everything!]

My chest tightened abruptly.

Of course, I remembered the message.

The text Herman sent:

"Honey, come home early. Go take a look in the bedroom. I prepared a surprise for you."

In my first life, I saw the message but didn't dare enter the room.

Only later did I learn that he really collapsed from low blood sugar on a floor covered with rose petals. No one found him, and he lay there all night in the cold.

My in-laws broke down while holding his body, calling me heartless and cruel.

In the end, in the midst of their madness, they pushed me off a balcony.

In my second life, I believed the baby and pushed open the door.

There was no unconscious husband, only a knife, and Herman's cold, indifferent face as he watched me die.

In one life, I died burdened by guilt. In the next, I died betrayed.

In this life, I pretended I never saw that message and buried every clue that might lure me into that room deep inside my heart.

"Cindy, you’re home!" my mother-in-law greeted warmly, her voice light and carrying a barely concealed excitement.

"We've been waiting forever for you to get back. You must be exhausted from the trip."

My father-in-law nodded along.

His gaze instinctively flicked toward the bedroom before quickly pulling away again.

"Go rest in your room for a while. Everything's been tidied up for you," he said casually.

I responded with a quiet acknowledgment.

My eyes remained fixed on the door.

I didn't move.

The more natural they acted, the more certain I became that Herman was inside.

They knew nothing.

They simply believed their son was preparing a romantic surprise for his wife and were eagerly waiting for me to walk in and bring the whole scene to a perfect conclusion.

"I'll put my luggage away first."

My voice remained calm.

I dragged my suitcase forward a step, but stopped again when I was only two steps away from the bedroom door.

I took a deep breath and forced myself to sound composed.

"Mom, Dad, where's Herman? I called him, but he didn't answer. I texted him too, but he never replied."

The moment the words left my mouth, the baby's anxious thoughts rang out from inside my womb.

[Mommy, you're lying! You clearly saw Daddy's message telling you to come home and go to your room! Why won't you believe me?]

The floating comments immediately flooded across my vision.

[Smart! Don't go in there! The second you step inside, you're dead!]