The Final Judgment
On the day I was diagnosed with uremia, my husband asked me to donate a kidney to his one true love.
I turned him down, claiming I wasn’t feeling well.
I didn’t expect him, my own husband, who was a doctor, to drag me to trial. The charge? Ingratitude.
If found guilty, I would be executed on the spot, my kidney forcibly harvested, my soul condemned for eternity.
But if the charges were dismissed, my husband would face immediate execution. His love would fall into ruin, plagued by illness and poverty.
Everyone pressured me to confess.
After all, when I nearly died in a car crash years ago, it was her blood transfusion that had pulled me back from the brink of death.
But what they didn’t know was… I had been reborn.
In my past life, I died never knowing my husband and his lover had orchestrated the car crash that nearly killed me.
Now that I had returned, I would tear off their masks and expose their malice for all to see.