Emotional Rollercoaster

After a full week of night shifts, I make a fatal mistake—injecting my son, Ricky Lambert, with phenobarbital, mistaking it for an antibiotic. The injection stops his breathing instantly, and the hospital soon declares him brain-dead. My husband, Terence Lambert, completely falls apart when he hears the news. The only thing that calms him is holding his nephew, Ryan Lambert, who looks so much like Ricky. So, I give up my transfer to Harborstone to Wendy Larson, my brother-in-law's wife. I even agree to adopt her son. Because of that mistake, I work hard and endure Terence's coldness day after day without a word of complaint. Ten years later, when Wendy returns home a success, that's when I accidentally overhear her speaking with Terence. "Back then, to help me get residency at Harborstone, you swapped the medicine and killed your own son. Do you really not regret it?" Terence sneers. "Of course not. I promised I'd help you rise above the rest. And I know Rosalie too well. If she knows there is a chance to go back to Harborstone, she'll fight you for it to the bitter end. "I have to use Ricky's death to trap her for good. It also gives me the perfect excuse to make her raise our son, so you can focus on your career without any burden." I can't believe what I'm hearing. I run out the door and accidentally fall into a raging river. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the very day the hospital declares Ricky dead.

I brought home eighty dollars’ worth of durian. When my sister-in-law, Lily Ward, saw me, she clutched her stomach and screamed from the couch. “Ugh, my stomach! Summer, you know I can’t stand that smell. Are you trying to suffocate my baby?” Before I could even steady myself, my mother, Rosemary Ward, slapped me across the face. It made me see how much my mother favored my younger brother, Jasper Ward. When we were children, she always reminded me that he was younger and told me to give him a pass. I thought things might change after he grew up and got married. Instead, her favoritism only got worse. “Summer, you jinx! Hurry up and sign over your apartment to Jas to make up for this!” Watching Jasper pull out a property transfer agreement, I covered my swollen cheek and smiled. So, this whole act was just to get the apartment I had bought. “Sure.” They were delighted to see me agree readily. However, they failed to consider one thing. I might have willingly given it away, but I wondered if any of them had the nerve to take it.

My in-laws accidentally fall off a cliff in the middle of a mountain hike. But my wife, Stella Covington, who's also the leader of the search and rescue team in charge of that area, refuses to accept the rescue mission. Instead, she sets off fireworks with her junior, Noah Reid, to celebrate her birthday. By the time my in-laws are found, they've already died. Their corpses are left broken and battered. Only then does Stella call me on the phone casually. "Have your parents' bodies delivered to my team. Noah needs to dissect two more bodies in order to receive his license as a forensic doctor." It turns out that Stella thought my parents were the ones who died. I just chuckle in return. After that, I have the mangled and unrecognizable bodies delivered to Stella's team.

After years of living abroad without children, I decided to return home to handle my inheritance matters. However, before I could step into my house, I was stopped by a group of people at the entrance. The woman leading the group pointed at me and started screaming. "I can't believe someone as young as you is seducing a man old enough to be your father! How disgusting can you be?" I watched her, noticing how much she resembled my older brother, and I was shaking with rage. They pulled out my fingernails, broke my ribs, and slashed my face, dragging me around the neighborhood as I begged for mercy. Yet, they remained indifferent to my pleas. Just as I was on the verge of losing hope, my brother, Edward Grange rushed over.  Through a mouthful of blood, I managed to choke out, "Ed, I’d rather die than let her inherit my inheritance…”

I went on a graduation trip with my boyfriend, Marcus Hale, only to have my shameless roommate, Vanessa Quinn, tag along. On the way to Rybia, our plane was caught in violent turbulence and plunged toward the Egete Ocean. Because of a malfunction, only half the oxygen masks dropped. The spiteful Vanessa snatched the oxygen mask meant for a Rybian socialite, Layla Al-Farouq. Unable to stand by, I shared mine with the woman, saving her life. After the emergency landing, her powerful oil tycoon husband, Khalid Al-Farouq, adopted me as his goddaughter out of gratitude, while throwing the vicious Vanessa into the Kibera Slums. Later, I married Marcus, but on the day we went skydiving, he suddenly unbuckled my parachute and shoved me from ten thousand meters above, leaving me to crash into nothing but broken flesh. "If you hadn’t meddled and saved that old woman, my darling Vivi would still be alive!" Only then did I realize the two of them had been betraying me all along. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the exact moment the plane first took off.

On the day I receive my Distinguished Service Medal, I also receive word that my grandma has passed away. My superior grants me special leave to return to my hometown to mourn her death, so I rush to my ancestral home at once. But when I reach the ancestral graveyard behind the hill, I witness something that makes my blood boil. The graves of my deceased family members have been razed to the ground. Even my parents' graves have been brutally dug up. Their urns are now placed under flower pots filled with blooming red roses. Grandma's coffin has been pried open as well.Her body now lies strewn on the ground and has started to rot. I also see Lucy Stewart, my autistic younger sister. Melissa Abbott, my wife's assistant, orders Lucy around like a maid, forcing her to move heavy construction materials around. Enraged, I grab Melissa by the throat and throw her to the ground. "How dare you destroy my family's ancestral cemetery and make my sister do hard labor! Do you want to end up buried here too?" Melissa coughs up blood before crawling back onto her feet, her expression vicious and scornful. "I'm simply carrying out Ms. Fuller's instructions. She says that your ancestral cemetery is located in a good spot. It's also the perfect size to be turned into a private horse ranch and a garden for her future husband. "Ms. Fuller calls the shots here in Joverton City. Who the hell do you think you are, huh?" Resisting the urge to put an end to her life, I call up Eva Fuller, my wife. "I heard you call the shots here in Joverton City. Well, I shall put that to the test today!"

My wife made me get a vasectomy. Not once, but ninety-nine times. Right before the hundredth operation, the doctor looked at me with pity in his eyes as the anesthesia failed to fully kick in. "Ms. Gibson really knows how to destroy a man," he murmured. "She's put him through ninety-nine vasectomies, then had them reversed—again and again. However, his body's long since broken. There's no chance of children now." "It's probably for her ex. Word is, it's his own brother. The scandals in these wealthy families—unbelievable." Because of a hospital mix-up at birth, my and Jeff Cunningham's fates were exchanged. He grew up with the Cunningham family, while I lived a poor life. Years later, my parents found the truth, taking me in and sending Jeff away. To make things worse, I became Wynnie Gibson's new fiancé. I once asked her, barely able to speak through the pain, why she would marry someone she did not love. She looked at me calmly. "To get revenge," she said. "You came home and stole Jeff's place. He was the one I love. He drank himself to death after you returned." Even my biological parents knew she was poisoning me. However, they turned a blind eye. They did nothing to stop her. They knew Wynnie had got pregnant with Jeff's child through IVF—planning to raise the child and let him inherit the family fortune. I coughed up blood and threw myself into the sea. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day I was first reunited with them. This time, when I saw the sorrow in their eyes—sorrow not for me, but for the son they lost— I chose to let them go.

Because of a last-minute business trip, my husband missed the Thanksgiving family dinner. I spent the entire day helping out at my in-laws' place in the countryside with our five-year-old son, only to receive a complaint from the downstairs neighbor just before dinner. "Ari, could you please close your kitchen window when you're cooking? I can smell the hot sauce from all the way here. My husband has a lung condition—he can't handle it." My neighbor's words shocked me, and I immediately called my husband, who was allergic to chili peppers. "Honey, did someone break into the house? The neighbor said there was smoke coming from the kitchen." His breathing hitched for a second before he let out a casual laugh. "No break-in. My flight got canceled, so I was home alone cooking. When are you two coming back? I really miss you." I smiled and told him we'd stay a couple more days, but in the middle of the night, I packed up our son and drove straight home.

The ER receives a patient in the middle of the night. Despite being the doctor on duty, I use the excuse of suffering from a stomachache to duck into the washroom. Instead, the new pretentious doctor, Scarlett York, is the one taking the lead in saving the patient's life. In my previous life, I put in all of my effort to save the patient's life. That was how I managed to revive him. But when the patient woke up, he claimed that I had broken four of his ribs, so he demanded compensation from me. The hospital also suspended me from my position and made me reflect on my actions just because I drank a bottle of glucose that I paid for. At the same time, Scarlett accused me of selling the medical equipment, which led to me getting fired by the hospital. To make things worse, the patient's family decided to get revenge on me by stabbing me with a blade. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day the patient is sent to the ER.

My son is severely allergic to pollen, and because of his rare blood type, he must receive a specific desensitization injection at a bigger hospital in a different state. To make that happen, I deliberately booked the same flight as my wife just so our son could get help as soon as possible. But she insists on waiting for her late-arriving first love, refusing to let the plane take off. When I confront her, she says, "All passengers are equal. If the plane can wait for you, why can't it wait for him? Cam still needs to celebrate Josie's birthday. It's just ten minutes. Nothing will happen!" However, by the time we arrive at the hospital, the doctor tells us we missed the critical window for treatment. We were just ten minutes too late. Our son has now become a vegetable.