Pool Scene Pitch Perfect

I realized my period was two weeks late after going on a trip to the swimming pool with my best friend, Gianna Lowe. Gianna insisted that I take a pregnancy test. I was stunned when I saw the two red lines on the pregnancy stick test. I had a boyfriend, Mitchell Gray, but I was a conservative person, so I still hadn't slept with Mitchell. I couldn't help but wonder whose baby this was. I planned to just terminate the mystery pregnancy, but Mitchell pretended to be worried about my health, offering to marry me and raise the child. It was finally my delivery date. I was lying weakly in the delivery room when Mitchell shoved a pillow over my face and smothered me, roaring, "You slut! Did you think I'd raise another man's child? I'll make you and this illegitimate child pay for everything!" I was too weak to resist since I had just given birth, so Mitchell successfully killed me. I suddenly open my eyes and realize that I have returned to the day I found out about my pregnancy. I am completely determined this time—I have to find out who the father really is!

The new reporter intern deliberately falsified the situation at the fire scene to secure a full-time position and create a headline. Because of her, firefighters who rushed in to fight the fire and nearly a thousand company employees were killed in an explosion. There were no bodies left to salvage. My husband, who was also my superior, gave false testimony for her sake and claimed I was the one who had made the decision. I lost my job, and everyone cursed me, telling me to die. On the day of the trial, a grieving family member of one of the victims threw a bottle of acid at me. I died in unbearable pain as the acid ate me alive. Meanwhile, my husband was busy comforting the intern. "Don't be afraid. She deserved this." When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day she made that false coverage.

During a critical heart transplant, my doctor husband insisted his intern assist despite her garish nail art compromising the sterile field. When I called her out, he abandoned the patient mid-surgery to comfort her. I begged him to return, but he snapped, "Giselle is upset. Can't you wait? This is nothing compared to her feelings." 40 minutes later, the patient bled out and died. Later, they discovered that he was our highly respected mayor and placed the blame on me. "If it weren't for you causing a scene and kicking us out of the operating room, the mayor wouldn't have bled to death. This is all your fault!" Defenseless, I was sentenced to life in prison, tortured, and died in agony. My husband and his intern walked down the aisle, enjoying their happy life. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of that fateful surgery.

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 blowing through 15 million, which was my wedding gift from the Masons, I turned myself in for marriage fraud. That was when the housekeeper's daughter, Hannah Castillo, panicked. On May 5th, Castillo Enterprise and Mason Group were set to unite through marriage. I was meant to be the bride, but instead, I was locked away in a dark storage room. By the time I fought my way to the ceremony, Hannah had already finished the wedding using my identity. I went onstage and said I was the Castillos' real daughter, only to be questioned by everyone in the company. The reason was simple: Hannah had been using my name and status openly inside the company for the past six months. Hannah kicked me to the ground and sneered, "You're the housekeeper's kid! How dare you make a scene!" Before I could pull out any proof, the bodyguards Hannah hired dragged me out and dumped me on the road. A car ran into me, and I died on the spot. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day before the wedding.

In my previous life, my sister thought that since my husband and I had high-paying jobs, she could swap her son with my child without anyone noticing. But twenty-five years later, the tables turned. My son had grown into a street thug, while her son—raised under my care—rose smoothly through life. Young as he was, he had already become a CEO. He was dutiful, bought me a villa, and even sent me traveling around the world. My sister barged into his company, waving a DNA test report, kicking up a scene, only to be thrown out by security. "Mr. Kieran said that even if you are his biological mother, you never gave him a single day of care," they told her. "So he refuses to acknowledge you." Breaking down completely, she drove her car into me and ended my life. When I opened my eyes again, we had returned to the very day she switched our babies. This time, my sister clutched her own child tightly, a wild, triumphant grin on her face. "From now on, you can be the mother of a street thug," she sneered. "The villa and all those riches—they're mine!"

My ex-fiancé made me do a blood test the night before our wedding. The next day, he threw the genetic report on my face and dumped me over defective genes. The reason was that the Zimmer family only wanted perfect heirs, and he said that I was not worthy. He broke off the engagement, and instantly married the girl-next-door with perfect genes. Five years later, he reappeared in the hospital, clutching his ill son. He saw my daughter who had similar rashes, and he thought I had given birth to his daughter in secrecy. Little did he know that my daughter had nothing to do with him and only had a mild seafood allergy. I would not be defined by the so-called defective genes again, while me and my daughter live happily and healthily, it was their turn to be destroyed.

My name is Greta Ellsworth. In my past life, my best friend, Poppy McKellen, and I both married into the Lockwood family. They are a prestigious household with a long-standing legacy in alternative medicine. Poppy marries the eldest son, Bruce Lockwood, while I marry the younger son, Owen Lockwood. Poppy gives birth to three children with Bruce. They each grow up to be prodigies in medicine. Meanwhile, I have only one daughter with Owen—Wendy Lockwood. Sadly, Wendy struggles with even the most basic math and isn't very bright. Owen's pride takes over, and he is left feeling utterly embarrassed. Years later, I take Wendy to a medical symposium. When she shyly whispers, "Dad," the crowd erupts in laughter. Enraged and humiliated, Owen stabs Wendy to death. Before I can react, he turns my way and strikes me down as well. When I open my eyes again, I realize that both Owen and I have been reborn. I take in the scene of our families' matchmaking event once more. This time, Owen reaches for Poppy's hand and says, "I like you. Will you marry me?"

My husband, Frank Myer, ruined himself by taking random medication and coming to me for treatment. I simply sneered at him and deliberately stalled for time, letting him end up disabled for life! In my previous life, my husband had purposely ruined himself to help his childhood sweetheart, Karen White, get promoted. I anxiously asked if he had taken anything harmful, but he swore he had not. When I asked him to do a full checkup, he accused me of having no ethics and claimed that I would even scam my own husband for a promotion. His childhood sweetheart insisted on a conservative treatment instead. I kicked out his unqualified sweetheart and performed the surgery myself. It was a total success, but she made a huge scene about it after feeling humiliated by being thrown out. She even threatened suicide. My husband was furious and lied that the surgery had failed, even reporting me for forcing him into surgery against medical advice, getting me blacklisted from the medical field. His sweetheart, however, simply dabbed some disinfectant on him, and he announced that she had cured him, instantly making her famous and earning her a promotion. When I confronted him, my husband said that if it weren't for me, he wouldn't have had to go to such lengths for her, and that I am the reason he was suffering. Then, he suffocated me with a pillow. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back to the very day he ruined himself.

The night before Grandma's surgery, I pulled my adoptive father, Robert Shaw, into the office and made him stay up with me, going through the medical plans in detail until dawn. All this was because, in my previous life, when Grandma's heart condition suddenly worsened, the "real daughter", my younger sister, Jill Shaw, insisted on taking my position as Grandma's attending physician so she could personally perform Grandma's heart transplant. I knew she had only attended a three-year vocational nursing school, so I refused. However, Jill thought that I was humiliating her. To prove herself, she impersonated me and secretly performed the surgery on Grandma. The next day, Grandma died on the spot from a rejection reaction. Her blood vessels ruptured. When Robert arrived at the scene, Jill immediately threw herself in his arms, sobbing, "Dad, I never thought that Janice would be so afraid of me taking her spot as the attending physician that she'd break hospital rules and operate on Grandma in the middle of the night!" Before I could explain myself, my adoptive mother, Molly Walton, jumped in to accuse me, "Janice, you're a murderer! Grandma trusted Jill to operate on her, so you tampered with the surgery and killed her!" Robert, blinded by rage, shoved me straight off the 36th floor. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the very day Jill planned to operate on Grandma.