Chapter 1

When I opened my eyes again, the doctor was telling me that I was pregnant, exactly three months along.

Before I could even process the reality of it, a bowl of piping-hot beef broth was set down right in front of me.

"Being pregnant is tough work, Jessie," my best friend, Clara Wilder, said.

Clara was a wealthy, high-society housewife who had married into an affluent family and lived a life of absolute luxury.

"I knew there was a reason your appetite has been so off lately. Here. I made this beef broth just for you.

"It smells amazing. Hurry up and try some."

I looked up into her eyes, frowned tightly, and didn't reach for the bowl.

A second later, my mother-in-law, Martha Flint, rolled her eyes at me.

"Drink up, Jessie Carter! What are you just sitting there for?

"You don't know how lucky you are, do you? Clara treats you so well, and she's always thinking of you."

The nurses standing nearby immediately chimed in with a chorus of praise.

"Exactly! If I married into that kind of wealth, I wouldn't even waste my time on regular people anymore. Clara is just so down-to-earth and kind."

"I heard she even baked that apple pie herself. Having a friendship like this is so enviable."

"Clara is beautiful and sweet. Her future children are bound to be just as amazing as she is."

Smiling, Clara nodded at the nurses to acknowledge their compliments. Then, she ladled out a fresh bowl of beef broth and tried to feed me.

"Drink it while it's warm. I got up at 4:00 am this morning to start prepping it and let it simmer for a full eight hours. If you don't like it, shall I make you some chicken bone broth instead?"

Suddenly, I was reminded of scenes from my past life.

Back then, I had just learned that I was pregnant, but before I even had time to celebrate, I drank the beef broth Clara offered.

That night, my stomach started hurting after I returned home, and I lost my baby, just like that.

My husband, Wyatt Houston, took me to the hospital for a comprehensive panel of tests, but the results showed that my body was completely healthy. The doctors couldn't find a single explanation for the miscarriage.

But that was just the beginning.

After that, I got pregnant three times and ended up losing each baby. Still, the doctors insisted I had zero gynecological issues or underlying factors that could cause the miscarriages.

In my past life, I racked my brain to understand why and never got my answer. Why couldn't I keep my poor babies?

While I drowned in grief and confusion, Martha discovered a strange security footage scene from home. In the video, I intentionally jumped and thrashed about, even pressing hard on my stomach as if I were desperately trying to kill my baby.

But I never did that!

I had always been extra careful at home, taking every precaution to ensure my safety with every move I made and paying close attention to my diet. How could I possibly have done something like that?

I desperately tried to explain and protest my innocence, but my in-laws and Wyatt were convinced that I was mentally ill and forcibly sent me to a psychiatric hospital. Even the doctors diagnosed me with schizophrenia.

To make things worse, a stranger suddenly appeared and claimed to have an affair with me. According to him, I had murdered my four unborn babies because I refused to have children with Wyatt and only loved him.

As a result, my in-laws threw me out, and Wyatt divorced me without hesitation. They even stripped me of all my money and legal identification, so I ended up starving to death under a highway overpass.

It was only when my soul drifted up into the sky that I finally saw the truth.

Everything had happened because Clara was bound to the "Fertility Transfer System".

…

As the thought crossed my mind, I turned my head away and gently pushed the bowl of beef broth aside.

For some reason, just the sight of the glistening broth filled me with revulsion. A sharp wave of nausea hit the back of my throat.

"I think I'll pass."

Maybe my rejection stung her pride, because Clara's expression immediately darkened. She was about to say something when Martha glared at me with a look of contempt.

"Clara spent her morning stewing this beef broth for you, Jessie, so you'd better not be ungrateful!

"You used to talk about how much you loved the soup all the time, and now that she's made it for you, what are you acting so high and mighty for?"