Perfect Adalah

At three in the morning, I stare at the unknown transaction record on my phone screen, my fingertips turning cold. The record is for a payment of 2980 dollars, made for an executive suite at the Wisteria. The time of payment was 8:00 pm last night. My husband, Tristan Griffin, is a detective. He was on the night shift last night. I clutch my phone, my knuckles turning white as I text Tristan, "I just saw your credit card bill for a hotel stay last night. What's up with that?" His reply is instant. "Our team had to work overtime at the last minute, so they put us up at the hotel. I forgot to tell you about it." I scan the text and sputter. The Wisteria is located in the western region of the city, which is on the other end from where his squad is stationed. I don't press him for more details and click on the bank app on my phone. Having found the vendor's address through the payment record, I sent it to my best friend, Rowena Sheffield, who works as a private detective. She replies instantly with an "OK" emoji and follows up with, "Give me a second. I'll find out everything you want in a jiffy!"

Valentine's Day. I was stuck on ER duty at Brighton City Hospital. Theodore Madoff, who was supposed to be working late, strolled in carrying his student—Cecilia Kuntzer. She had red marks everywhere and that smug little smirk. "Relax, Mrs. Madoff. Just stomach pain. Lucky me, Prof. Madoff rushed me here." Theo pushed me to treat her. Turns out? She was pregnant. From rough intercourse. And the dad? Theo. My husband. The same guy who'd sworn off kids with me for ten years. Felt like a punch to the gut. But I still saved her baby. Next day, she uploaded a video—ID in hand, cheesy PowerPoint, accusing me of malpractice. Claimed I killed her kid. Then Theo asked for a divorce. Priscilla—his mom—stormed the hospital, shrieking about her dead grandbaby. She brought a mob. All these "righteous" strangers who stabbed me to death. Right there in the ER. I died with my eyes wide open. Then—bam—I woke up. Valentine's Day. Again.

My sister's best friend borrowed 20 thousand from me, saying it was for her mother's medical bills. As a cop, I lent it to her. I figured if I could help, I should. When it was time to pay me back, she didn't return a cent. Instead, she showed up at my precinct holding a baby and accused me of indecent assaults. After a paternity test, the baby turned out to be mine. She went on livestreams, crying about how I broke the law despite being a police officer. She used the scandal to make herself famous. The force treated me like a disgrace and fired me. I tried to explain, but no one believed me. I went from a model officer to a criminal overnight. My parents were cyberbullied; with nowhere left to turn, they both drowned themselves. My wife was also beaten in the street. She suffered a miscarriage from the attack and died from massive blood loss. As for my sister, guilt drove her insane; she was hospitalized before vanishing from the public eye. After my family fell apart, I hanged myself one night. Then I opened my eyes again. I'd been reborn. Facing my sister's evil friend, I vowed to fight back.

I was cleaning up the house on the second day after my wife went for a business trip. I casually instructed the smart speaker. “Smart, play some music.” However, I heard a husky, strange male voice. “Sure. I’m the Sun that loves you. Plus, Lindy, I would like to remind you not to forget about your birthday surprise for Sam tonight.” I stiffened and found the music particularly annoying. Linda Clark was my wife, but I had no idea who Sam was. I immediately called my wife. “Did you use the smart speaker at home?” Linda paused for a moment before she laughed indifferently. “Oh, my friend visited me a few days ago. She might have connected her account to it. What’s wrong?” I laughed and told her it was nothing. After hanging up, I found the login record of the speaker and hailed a cab. I headed straight to the registered company associated with the unfamiliar account on the record.

I wasn’t even pregnant, yet I ended up popping abortion pills like they were candy. It was all because in my past life, the moment my widowed sister-in-law got pregnant, every single side effect of her pregnancy became mine. She strutted around happily with her big belly, consuming spicy tamales, while I was rushed to the hospital for violent nausea and stomach pain; she showed off her flawless skin in crop tops every day, while my stomach broke out in hideous stretch marks. When I told my husband what was happening, he just shoved me away impatiently. “Enough with the jealousy! My brother’s dead, and she’s carrying his only child. Of course, I should look out for her. Do you really have to put on such an act?” After that, my sister-in-law went even further. She kept testing her limits during pregnancy and even ate a mango she was allergic to. And me? I went into anaphylactic shock, landed in the hospital, and nearly died. Doctors couldn’t explain it. They just brushed it off, saying I was overly jealous and it was all psychological. Later, my sister-in-law tried to brand herself as a “hot single mom”. She went live, belly and all, to show off her weight-loss workouts. She jumped around for three straight hours. And me? My uterus literally gave out, and I hemorrhaged to death. When I opened my eyes again, it was the exact day she first announced her pregnancy.

My mother-in-law, Daisy Rothbart, gets pregnant around the same time I do. We even give birth to baby boys via cesarean sections on the same day. However, her infant dies later, and that's when she suddenly starts showering my son, Casey Dyson, with all her love and attention. After Casey officially takes over the family business one day, my husband, Jerome Dyson, and I die in an accident out at sea. However, my spirit remains close to Casey even after my death, and that's when I find out that he starts calling Daisy "Mom" while crying in relief. It is only then that I learn that the son I'd been bringing up for 20 years had been secretly switched at birth by none other than Daisy. When I open my eyes again, I realize that I'd traveled back in time to the day when Daisy and I were both scheduled to undergo cesarean sections at the hospital.

My younger brother, Owen Rivera, and I are playing in Dad's refrigerated truck. Owen wants to grab my ice cream from me, but I refuse to let him have his way. He shoves me forcefully, causing me to lose my balance and fall to the floor, knocking me out on the spot. When I finally wake up and locate him in the freezer, I find out that he's gotten reduced to a frozen statue. The security footage shows that Owen has been screaming the words "Mommy, help me!" hysterically for three hours before his death. After Mom is done watching the footage, she breaks down on the spot. Then, she yanks me by my hair before slamming me against the wall. "What were you doing? You were at the entrance, dammit! Why didn't you open the door for Owen?" With reddened eyes, Dad throws me into the freezer. "Owen was cold and frightened in the freezer! You should have a taste of the same thing too!" The thick and heavy door is slammed in my face. Darkness and a bone-chilling coldness devour me instantly. I curl into a small ball in the corner Owen has just died in. My teeth are starting to chatter, and my consciousness is starting to slip away. I'm sorry, Mom and Dad. I don't feel cold. I'm not cold at all. I will never eat ice cream ever again in my next lifetime.

My childhood friend called, saying he was trapped in a fire. He wanted to hear my voice one last time, and I rushed to the scene as fast as I could. But in that small, blazing spot, there was only a cat. Stumbling, I got the cat out, but my arms got burned. A crowd gathered, pointing at me and laughing hysterically. "She actually went for it?" "What a simp, risking her life like that!" Safe and sound, Colin Porter stepped out of the crowd with a grin. He picked up the cat from my arms and handed it to his crush. "See? I told you the cat would be fine. When have I ever lied to you?" Turning back to me, he said, "The cat got spooked and ran into the fire. We didn't know what to do, so we called you. Thank you for your help." The people around us snickered, like they were watching a trained dog. Later, on my wedding day, my husband carried me to the car. Colin, dragging his burned, bloody legs, crawled on the ground. He begged, "I'm hurt, Selena! Come help me!"

After I hand over my five-million-dollar commission to my departmental colleagues, they drag me to a hotel and celebrate with me for three days straight. But when I walk past the bathroom, I overhear a conversation between two of my colleagues that stops me cold. "Have the results of the vote been released yet?" What vote? Confused, I check my phone and find that I've been removed from the Project Department's group chat. "Who else could it be? Our hero, Zane Carter, received 11 votes. It was unanimous, and the motion was passed." "Serves him right. I've never liked him anyway." I freeze. I can't believe that my colleagues would betray me after what I've done for them. After taking a moment to calm down, I immediately decide to resign. The next thing I know, I receive a call from the company chairman, Wilson Smith. "Have you made up your mind? Quitting now would breach your contract. As a result, your five-million-dollar commission would be revoked. "You're also a key technical staff member. If you leave, your entire department would most likely be dismissed. Once that happens, your colleagues will end up unemployed. Are you sure about this?" I lower my gaze and let out a cold laugh. "Absolutely."

I'm bound to a rebound system by nature. Everyone who has come up with rumors about me will receive backlash in return. When I was in high school, a male classmate had spread rumors about me being a prostitute who had intimate relations with a few old men. That very same day, he was taken away by a dozen or so old men and was modified into a gigolo himself. When I was in college, my boyfriend's childhood friend spread rumors about me being the female lead in porno videos. That night, all of the available porno videos on the Internet featured her as the female lead. Since then, no one dares to gossip about me. That is, until I'm reunited with the wealthy Hartley family, which happens to be my biological family. The fake heiress, Claire Hartley, takes my hand while adopting a friendly expression. "Hey Amanda, I heard that you got pregnant out of wedlock and gave birth to a murderer's child. Now that you're back, why didn't you bring the baby home with you? "We're a family, after all. We won't look down on you."