Pregnant With Baby No. 2, and All Our Pets Want Me Dead

"Harper, get out here! Mommy's pregnant! You're getting a little brother in a few months!"

The moment we got home, my husband, Adam Steele, called out toward our daughter's bedroom. Seconds later, our five-year-old came barreling out, squealing as she threw her arms around me.

"Mommy, there's really a baby in your belly? When he comes out, I'll finally have someone to play with?"

I was about to respond when I felt two hostile pairs of eyes fixed on me. The cat and dog, curled up in their beds, stared intently at my belly.

The memory of being torn apart in my previous life hit me all at once, the pain so vivid that I could barely breathe. Driven by sheer survival instinct, I grabbed Adam's hand, my voice trembling.

"Honey, we need to get rid of all the pets in this house."

The tabby cat, Whiskers, and the terrier, Sunny, had been with me for ten whole years. I'd long since considered them family. Even when I first got pregnant and my mother-in-law made a huge fuss demanding we get rid of them, I refused.

So this time, when Adam and Harper heard what I said, both of them looked utterly confused.

Of course they wouldn't understand. If I hadn't died once already, I never would have believed that the pets I considered family would kill me. Though even in my previous life, I died without ever knowing why they hated me so much.

But I'd been given a second chance, and there was no way I would let them hurt me or the child in my belly again.

I forced myself to calm down before offering an explanation.

"The doctor said this pregnancy is delicate, and Sunny and Whiskers are too rough. Let's send them to my mom's place first, and once the baby's safely born, we can bring them back home, okay?"

Adam had no objections. As for Harper, after I patiently reasoned with her, she eventually agreed as well. To avoid any complications, I had Adam load Whiskers and Sunny into the car right away.

Before they left, I placed the birdcage containing the parrot, Kiwi, in the trunk as well. "Take her too."

"Leanne, aren't you being a bit dramatic?"

I ignored his bewildered expression. After all, that parrot was one of the culprits too.

At my urging, the car slowly pulled away, and the three "little ones" in the trunk began howling frantically.

I even heard Kiwi screech, "Die, Leanne Foster!"