I was once adored by many as the epitome of the perfect teacher, someone idealized like Eleanor. But the very student I was determined to help drugged me, and while I was drifting in and out of consciousness, calling out for my husband, he slipped his hand under my shirt. Afterwards, he shamelessly bragged about it, spreading our intimate video far and wide. “What’s so special about Eleanor? I’ve already had her, and she’s just average.” I fell from grace, from being praised by everyone to being dragged through the mud. Later, my husband divorced me, my parents endured the scorn of others, and I was fired from Jefferson High School. Unable to bear the online harassment, I jumped off the rooftop of the school. When I came back to life, it was the day that boy transferred into our class. 1 Once again, I stood on the podium in my senior year class, wearing a familiar Bohemian dress, my feet in white sandals, exuding grace. I was still that young, beautiful literature teacher. A new transfer student, who was economically disadvantaged, was assigned to our class today, his first day. The moment he walked in, everyone turned to look at him curiously, whispering. “Holy crap, how could someone be so ugly? My excitement just got doused.” “I’m not trying to bully the new guy, but he’s making me physically nauseous. Sorry, not sorry.” He hobbled in, with a noticeable limp on his left foot, his tanned face covered in acne scars, and a large, black mole the size of a nickel beneath his bulbous nose. “Hello everyone, I’m the new transfer student. Please take care of me.” At that moment, he greeted the class with a shy smile, but his gaze was fixed on me. I suddenly stopped breathing. Samuel Brooks—no matter how many lifetimes pass, I can never forget that name, the hatred simmering alongside my memories. In my previous life, I pitied him for being a low-income student, stood up to those who bullied him, bought him new clothes, and taught him how to carry himself with dignity. But on one stormy night, Samuel followed me as I walked home alone. I kindly let him in to escape the rain, only for him to secretly drug my water. I lay on the sofa to rest, groggily calling out for my husband as his trembling hands unbuttoned my shirt. But I lost consciousness, powerless to resist. The next day, I woke up covered in red and purple marks, panic-stricken. I reported it to the police immediately, but he had vanished without a trace. During the days Samuel was missing, I lived in constant fear. Until I saw the high-definition video circulating in every group chat, captioned: “Isn’t she Eleanor? I’ve already had her, and she’s just average.” The woman in the video, being violated, gasping and sobbing for mercy, was me. The internet exploded with discussions, as earlier candid photos of me had gone viral, with netizens praising my “prom queen face,” my “Eleanor aura.” #Prom Queen Teacher Fakes Drunkenness To Seduce Student, unfit to be a teacher. He didn’t step forward to admit what he had done. Instead, he hid in the shadows, sending me an anonymous text: “Mrs. Anderson, now you and I are both in the mud. Be with me, and I’ll treat you well.” In the end, unable to endure the online harassment, I jumped off the Jefferson rooftop, desperate. I was three months pregnant at the time. I had fallen from being revered as Eleanor to plunging into endless torment. But now, as I stood on this three-foot podium again, looking down at the students, I knew the gears of fate were turning. This was my chance to save myself. He lifted his head, speaking in broken English: “The spring flows silently, the tree’s shade reflects the calm. Mrs. Hale, my name is Samuel Brooks, from the spring.” The class erupted in whispers. “Did you say that on purpose or by accident? Do you know our teacher’s name is Shades Hale?” He paused, then looked up at me with a bashful smile. 2 Our eyes met, and I shivered all over, forcing myself to calm down. After all, in this life, he knew nothing, and I could still stop everything from happening. “The new student is here. Who would like to sit with him?” Since he started school late, he was older than his peers, already twenty, and still looked unattractive. The class fell silent; no one wanted to be his desk partner. Just then, Clara Mitchell, the class president, volunteered. “Mrs. Hale, I’m the class president. It’s my duty to unite our classmates. I’ll sit with the new student.” Looking at Clara’s kind and righteous face, so much like my past self, I coldly said, “I heard you had a poor academic foundation before transferring. I’m worried you might hold Clara back. It’s better if you sit alone in the last row.” There were plenty of empty seats without partners in the classroom, but I chose the most biased approach. He was puzzled, seemingly not expecting me to be so cold and even intentionally difficult. Samuel’s lips twitched slightly, murmuring to himself. “How could it be… Mrs. Hale looks so gentle. How could she discriminate against me too?” Every word he spoke sent chills down my spine. After finishing the lesson, I practically fled to the office, my back drenched in cold sweat. I drank a gulp of scalding tea, but felt nothing. My mind raced—should I resign now and avoid all this? Getting this teaching position hadn’t been easy; it took countless nights of studying late into the night. Senior year teachers weren’t allowed to switch classes, and I was responsible for students preparing for college entrance exams. Why should I give everything up because of him? I sat in a daze, my thoughts drifting until it was time to leave. Christopher Lane arrived to pick me up, waiting at the school entrance for half an hour. Seeing me come downstairs, he hurriedly opened the car door, pulling me into his arms. “Sweetheart, you’re not feeling well. Did something happen?” Smelling his warm, familiar scent, I couldn’t hold back my emotions any longer and broke down in tears. My husband and I had a great relationship. In my past life, he divorced me temporarily to protect me from the online harassment, and we moved to another city under new identities. Later, seeing how much pain I was in, he even took a knife to find Samuel, only to have his grandmother shield him. Christopher was then outwitted and fell, never to rise again, in a pool of blood. Facing Christopher’s still-handsome face, I wiped away my tears and managed a smile. “It’s nothing, just not feeling well. Let’s go home.” Christopher, however, was deeply concerned, insisting on taking me to the hospital for a checkup. I couldn’t resist him. An hour later, the rushed blood test results came back—I was pregnant. It was at this moment that I realized I was already carrying Christopher’s child. When he discovered I was pregnant, Christopher joyfully picked me up and spun me around. “Sweetheart, this is amazing! We’re going to have our little baby!” “If it’s a girl, that would be perfect. I’ve always wanted a little Shades, just as beautiful and lovely as you.” I smiled through my tears, silently vowing. This time, I would protect this hard-won happiness. The next day, I went to teach as usual, though my voice was hoarse from the previous day, so I brought a voice amplifier. The sound was loud, drowning out all chaotic emotions. I didn’t look toward that corner but instead focused on teaching peacefully. A few days passed, and everything was calm. Until Thursday afternoon, after I had finished my last class and was heading back to the office, a few female students were supporting Samuel Brooks, blocking my path. He was evidently bullied, reeking of the bathroom, covered in bruises, and his limp even more pronounced. But I knew that this pitiful appearance was just a mask hiding his twisted nature. He was strong, yet never fought back, letting the bullies have their way with him. His fingernails were long, filled with grime, and his left hand was a bloody mess, with a chunk of skin missing from his index finger. The wound was terrifying. “Mrs. Hale, Samuel’s been bullied. His finger got smashed, and a piece of skin came off. What should we do?” The girls in my class were full of righteousness, standing up for him. Samuel looked at me pitifully, his nose scrunching up in pain, making his oily face even more disgusting. “Please help me, Mrs. Hale…” I didn’t want to care and asked the students to take him to the nurse’s office, turning to leave. But the class representative, Emma Parker, urgently called out to me. “Mrs. Hale, I remember you have a first-aid kit in your office. The nurse’s office is too far. Could you bandage him up first?” I stopped, looking at his pleading eyes and the blood still flowing from his finger. Just then, the class bell rang urgently. I suddenly nodded. “Alright, come with me. The rest of you go back to class.” Samuel’s lips curled into a barely noticeable, cunning smile. He followed me to the office, which was empty during class time. I casually opened the first-aid kit, taking out alcohol, tweezers, and gauze. “Sit down. I’ll bandage you up.” At that moment, the wind blew the curtains, causing the seashell wind chime by the window to sway gently. I carefully and gently stopped the bleeding for him. As I looked at him, his face suddenly turned red. “What’s the matter?” I asked. “Mrs. Hale, you… you’re so beautiful.” Samuel’s face flushed as he blurted out the compliment, his eyes suddenly fixated on my collarbone. Taking advantage of his distraction, I smiled and plunged his entire finger into the alcohol bottle. The exposed flesh of his finger, raw and deep enough to see the bone, was firmly submerged in the nearly full medical alcohol. “You need to be good and cooperate with the disinfection, okay?” He was terrified, trying to pull away, his face contorting in pain. “It hurts, Mrs. Hale, it really hurts!” But I continued smiling, gripping his wrist tightly, refusing to let go. The narrow bottle neck almost suctioned his finger inside. Until the alcohol turned red with blood. He bit his lip until it bled, his eyes bulging, staring at me in utter shock. For the first time, I saw clear hatred in his eyes. 3 But what he didn’t know was that in this life, I would be kind and gentle to everyone, but an absolute monster to him. Due to the severity of his injury, the school nurse sent him to the hospital. In the following days, Samuel attended class with his hand wrapped in bandages. He worked hard in literature class, always raising his hand to answer questions, but I ignored him every time. Even when he won first place in the school coding competition, bringing honor to our class, I didn’t say a word. His eyes, once full of hope, gradually grew dim. He finally came to me, asking: “Mrs. Hale, why can’t I earn your approval, no matter how hard I try?” I slowly swiveled in my chair, not even looking at him. If pity and compassion had brought betrayal in the past, then in this life, I didn’t mind being the villain. As long as I could protect myself. “Because you’re not worthy. Some things can’t be changed by effort alone, just like your disgusting heart, which is far uglier than your appearance.” Even now, I felt justified in saying these words. Just a few days ago, on my way home from work, I had caught him torturing a stray cat. When I found the poor kitten, it had already been scalded to death with boiling water. He smiled and said, “That little white cat was so arrogant. It scratched me. How can a cat be more valuable than a person?” At that moment, Samuel looked at me with hatred, his hand clenched tightly under his sleeve. I didn’t care and continued to treat him coldly. Even the head of teaching, Mr. Thompson, noticed and frowned, reminding me: “Mrs. Hale, as a teacher, you must treat all students equally. You shouldn’t be too harsh on any one student, especially those who need more care.” But I didn’t hold back, and right in front of Samuel, I said: “What’s so special about him? He has two hands and two feet and is mentally sound. If I give him special treatment, how is that fair to the other students?” He began to hate me, spreading rumors about my private life, claiming I was having an affair with the principal. But when he saw me in person, he still forced a smile and greeted me. As fall turned to winter, Samuel donned a shabby coat and ripped jeans, standing out from everyone else. I heard that his parents died when he was young, and he was raised by his grandmother, who spoiled him like a treasure. On my twenty-fifth birthday, I received the Outstanding Teacher Award at the city level, a double blessing. I had a great relationship with my students; this was a job I truly loved. Several students pooled their money to buy me a grand bouquet of vibrant flowers, which I accepted with a smile. “Clara, Emma, you two made it into the top ten in the whole grade on the midterms. You’ve always wanted to sit together, right? I didn’t allow it before because I was worried you’d talk too much and neglect your studies. But now, I’m okay with it.” “Lucas, you did well in literature this time. Why not spend a little less time on math and science and memorize more poems? Extra points are nice, aren’t they?” As I was chatting with the students, I noticed an uninvited guest in the crowd. Samuel had also come to give me flowers. Whether by accident or on purpose, he handed me a mangled white rose, the petals bruised and oozing sap. “Mrs. Hale, I saved my allowance for a week to buy this for you. Please don’t dislike it.” He handed the flower to me with hope in his eyes. But I dropped my smile, and in front of all the teachers and students in the office, I pulled out a tissue, picked up the flower, and threw it on the floor, wrinkling my nose in disgust. “Dirty.” Samuel’s lips trembled, but he silently bent down to pick up the flower and walked away. The gloomy look in his eyes sent chills down my spine. But I didn’t turn back because I wasn’t afraid of his hatred. He was used to targeting those weaker than himself while fearing those who were stronger. 4 Christopher Lane had earned a black belt in Taekwondo in his spare time. I had also learned a few moves for self-defense. When I got home, my husband was waiting for me with a large bouquet of blooming roses, his voice soft and tender. “Happy birthday, my dear, my exceptional Mrs. Hale!” Even though I was happy, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of melancholy. Sure enough, during our candlelit dinner, Christopher mentioned that he had an opportunity to study abroad. “This is an important chance for my career, honey. It’s crucial for my promotion. But it means I won’t be able to take care of you for the next two months,” he sighed. My firm refusal caught him off guard. I knew he wouldn’t believe in something like reincarnation, so I said: “Honey, I had a dream the other day. In it, you left, and someone broke into our home and tortured me. You tried to avenge me with a knife, but were killed instead.” “We lost everything, our family shattered, and the culprit walked away free.” “How could that happen? We live in a society governed by law. Are you feeling a bit off lately?” he asked, worriedly taking my hand. In the end, with my persistent persuasion, Christopher reluctantly decided to stay, giving up the study opportunity out of concern for me. I didn’t want to hold him back from his career, but that stormy night was approaching. The night when Samuel would break into our home, leading to tragedy. Even though I had treated him differently this time, I couldn’t prevent fate’s cruel joke. I clearly remembered it was a Friday. Samuel followed me after school, begging me to let him in to escape the rain. But tonight, Christopher was delayed by traffic and couldn’t get home in time. After several unanswered calls, I grew irritated. Soon, Christopher texted me. “Sweetheart, there’s been an accident due to the rain. The highway is blocked, and I can’t get back. They won’t let us use our phones. Just go to bed without me.” By 10:30 PM, there was no knock on the door. The rain grew heavier, drowning out my troubled thoughts. My previously tense nerves finally relaxed, and I felt a wave of drowsiness, my body sticky with cold sweat. I decided to take a shower and go to bed. The hot water felt soothing against my skin. In the bathroom, my slender figure was reflected in the mirror, my lips pink, my nose delicate, my almond-shaped eyes wide and bright, with long, curled lashes that gave me a touch of allure. I gently stroked my still-flat belly. Christopher always said I was beautiful, and he wasn’t bad-looking either. Our child would surely be a little gem. Lost in thought, I picked up a towel to dry off the water. Suddenly, through the foggy mirror, a shadowy face appeared, hobbling toward me. It was Samuel Brooks! A wave of terror washed over me—how could this be? This wasn’t a hallucination. He had somehow cracked the code to my door. In the past life, when I let him in to escape the rain, he had seen my home’s password. This time, to avoid bad luck, I had changed the lock and even installed a reinforced security door. Only Christopher and I could open it with our fingerprints. Had all my precautions failed to escape the grip of fate? A cold, muddy hand reached out. I gasped, my waist suddenly grabbed tightly, another hand sliding up. “Mrs. Hale, it’s raining outside, and I’m so cold. Could you… hold me?”
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