Mom Mind Control

My name is Daniella Limebear. In my past life, my long-lost younger sister, Heidi Limebear, returns home. On her very first day back, I hear the faint whispers of her heart: "At the riverside, I saw the other kids learning to swim with their dads… I wish I could join them." The next day, I drive Heidi to the clearest stretch of river in the countryside. I teach her to float and paddle, guiding her hands with mine. Without warning, she lets out a scream and disappears beneath the water. I plunge into the river, fighting against the current to reach her. Suddenly, she clutches my arm and pulls me under. With the last of my strength, I push her toward the shore. Water fills my lungs, and darkness swallows me. Amid the piercing wail of the ambulance siren, Heidi curls into our mother's arms, tears streaking her cheeks. Mom slaps me across the face. In Dad's eyes, there is only utter disappointment. "Heidi has already endured so much while she was gone for ten years! I can't believe you would try to drown her the moment she comes home!" he snaps. I stand frozen, unable to defend myself. Shortly after the incident, a group of troublemakers just outside the school gates corners Heidi. Once again, I "hear" her cries of despair echoing in my mind: "He said if I don't meet him tonight, he'll set our home on fire! Daniella, please save me! You're the only one who can." The moment I arrive at the scene, I'm immediately surrounded by a group of thugs. With cruel, mocking smiles, they close in from all sides. "Don't blame us. Your precious younger sister paid us five thousand dollars to kill you." "She claimed that once you're out of the picture, the billion‑dollar inheritance goes straight to her." Just as I begin to suffocate, I notice Heidi standing not far away. Her face remains perfectly calm and composed. When I open my eyes again, I realize I've returned to the day she was found and brought home. Once more, her inner voice echoes in my ears: "I really want to swim… I wish Daniella would take me."

My name is Margaret Turner. After my daughter, Sarah McDowell, becomes pregnant, I am shocked to find that I can hear the thoughts of the baby in her womb. "Grandma, please don't let Mommy get the prenatal checkup! If they learn I'm a girl, Dad will make her get rid of me. I don't want to die!" I can't believe what I'm hearing. Knowing that my son‑in‑law, Jeremy O'Brien, works at a hospital and can use his connections to learn the baby's gender, I do everything in my power to keep Sarah from being examined. But three months later, doctors confirm that Sarah's baby has a congenital deformity and is fated to be born disabled. Sarah is devastated, and guilt consumes me. Suddenly, I hear my granddaughter's voice again. "It's all because of Dad. He cheated with that nurse and returned home soaked in her cheap perfume. As soon as Mommy breathed it in, I was fated to come into the world deformed. Poor Mommy…" Rage explodes inside me. Without a second thought, I storm into Jeremy's workplace, determined to catch him in the act. I don't expect to walk in on a critical heart surgery he is performing. My intrusion throws the room into chaos, and the patient dies on the operating table. The patient's family loses control, and they cause a violent scene in the hospital. In the mayhem, Jeremy is killed on the spot. When Sarah learns what I've done, she is consumed by rage and declares she wants nothing more to do with me. At that moment, my granddaughter's voice echoes in my mind once more. "Mommy is heartbroken and needs time to heal. Grandma, please don't make things worse. Mommy will be okay after she rests." Hearing this, I force myself to stay calm. But that very night, word arrives that Sarah has thrown herself into a river and ended her life. Shattered by grief, I eventually make the same tragic choice. As my final breath fades, my granddaughter's chilling laugh echoes in my ears. When I open my eyes again, I find myself back on the day her voice first crept into my mind.

At 16 years old, I travel with my sister, Sarah Barnes, to the remote mountains of Nectar Valley to participate in a program. While herding cattle in the mountains, I fall asleep. In my drowsy state, I hear strange panting and gasps. Thick fog has somehow risen throughout the forest by the time I wake up. Suddenly, Sarah's anxious voice calls out from within the fog. I'm about to respond when someone suddenly covers my mouth with their hand. A voice whispers in my ear, "Don't answer. That's not your sister. It's the Temptress!"

In my past life, I was trafficked and gave birth to a son. When Noah Barrett turns six, I plan to take him and escape from the mountains. On my first attempt, I map out the route in advance and prepare to flee with him. But in the morning, my mother-in-law, Ruth Whitaker, blocks me at the door. She ties me up and locks me inside the shed. Then, she starves me for three days. On my second try, I secretly buy sleeping pills from an unlicensed village doctor and slip them into dinner. At the table, Ruth flips the table without hesitation and beats me until I am half dead. The third time, I take advantage of a village meeting and escape with Noah again. We hide in a concealed mountain cave. Neither of us makes a sound, yet Ruth finds us with ease. I am dragged back and locked away in the pigpen. Ruth takes a shovel and strikes me with it again and again. "You filthy bitch. You dare run off with my precious grandson!" Her eyes are bloodshot. With the final blow, she uses all her strength and smashes the shovel into my head. I collapse to the ground. My consciousness fades. My blood drains away, and I die. When I open my eyes again, I am back on the day I plan to escape the mountains with Noah. Suddenly, I can hear Noah's thoughts, his voice clear and dripping with viciousness. "Mom can't be allowed to run. Grandma says Mom is our family's slave. She's supposed to serve us for her whole life."

Because I was a cheapskate, I rented a cheap apartment. The catch? Someone had died in it. The soundproofing of the house was bad, and I could hear my neighbor’s wife moaning every night. But my other neighbor told me that there was no one living in the apartment next to mine.

I was reborn on the very day my sister, Leena Fox, and I were choosing our mates. That was also when my mind-reading ability awakened. I heard her thoughts clearly. [I'm taking Collin! Ella can get Ethan, that emotionally abusive lunatic.] She lunged forward and claimed the so-called kind, gentle man I had married in my last life, while I was left with the Alpha heir who held real power but was rumored to be ruthless and cold. I let out a quiet laugh. Did she really think she had won some kind of prize?

My husband and I have been married for a decade. When I finally conceive for the first time in ten years, I realize my worst enemies are my family, who all want me dead. I've made a promise to return to the fertility shrine on the mountain and fulfill my vow if things work out, but my mother-in-law deliberately messes up the cable car tickets. In the process of hiking up the mountain for two hours, I lose my baby. In the hospital, I cry to my husband about all the vicious things his mother has done to me, but he kicks me in the stomach. "I had a vasectomy a long time ago. There's no way that bastard inside you is mine!" When he hands me the proof, I'm completely speechless. I break down in tears and run back to my parents' place. Not only do my parents hire a nanny to help take care of me, but they even move out of the house so I can rest in tranquility. When I'm eight months pregnant, I overhear them whispering in the bathroom. "We can never let Gina have the baby. I don't care if it kills her—we're all screwed if the child is born!" "Relax. The doctor already told me that Gina's got leukemia from all the formaldehyde in our new house. Even the baby's deformed!" Shocked, I burst into the bathroom to confront them, but the slippery floor causes me to fall hard. Instantly, blood snakes across the tiles. As I lie there in pain, I look up and see the cold, twisted smiles on my parents' faces before taking my last breath. I cannot fathom why my family wants me dead. I thought they'd been looking forward to his baby for a decade. When I open my eyes again, I return to the very day my mother-in-law insists on taking me to the mountain.

My wife had risen through the ranks of the Confidential Bureau, becoming its youngest team leader—all thanks to the "voice" of the baby boy in her womb, who could somehow identify traitors from within. When the holidays came, I went to visit her. But the moment I arrived, I heard the voice of that unborn child in her belly. "Ah, it's Bad Daddy! He's the one who's been secretly selling off the core technology!" I froze, stunned. Before I could even speak, my wife raised her gun and fired. The bullet tore through my shoulder. "Who did you sell the technology to? Talk!" Through the searing pain, I struggled to explain. "I don't even know what technology you're talking about. How could I possibly—" Her expression turned glacial. Without a word, she lifted the gun again and pulled the trigger, blowing my head apart. "Mommy is amazing! Bad Daddy is finally gone. The stolen data is all hidden on that USB drive." Even as I died, I couldn't understand how I had become a traitor. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day of the visit. This time, I took the initiative. I pulled out the USB drive and handed it to my wife. "If this is the evidence you want," I said, "go ahead, shoot me."

The buzzing of my phone in the middle of the night jolted me awake. On the other end of the line came a voice I could never forget. It was my daughter! However, she died three years ago!

On the day I received my prenatal test results, I heard a voice from inside my belly—my unborn child speaking to me. 'Mom, Dad will divorce you as soon as you give birth to me. His true love can't have children. That's why he married you. You're just a tool to give birth. Once I'm born, he'll divorce you, take me away, and go live happily ever after with her.' I believed every word. Without hesitation, I chose divorce. For nine months, I focused on carrying the pregnancy, planning to raise the child on my own. But on the day I went into labor, something went terribly wrong. The doctor said the baby was premature, and the position was dangerously abnormal. "The baby keeps flipping around inside you," she said. "It's like it's deliberately putting you through hell." Eight hours of emergency treatment accomplished nothing. In the end, it was a difficult labor—both mother and child died. As my consciousness faded, I heard that voice again. 'Haha. Dad never cheated at all. I lied to you.' Why would a child lie? I couldn't understand it, not even at the moment of death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day I first received the prenatal test report.