Accompanying my four-month pregnant sister-in-law for her prenatal checkup, we were devastated to find out that the fetus was no longer viable. I strongly urged my sister-in-law to opt for induced labor. She followed my advice and terminated the pregnancy immediately. However, upon learning that the fetus was male, she was filled with regret. When her husband Ethan confronted her, she absolved herself entirely, blaming an erroneous diagnosis by the doctor and claiming I had pressured her into it. Ethan believed her and, accusing me of ending his family line, pushed me off the balcony to my death. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day of the prenatal checkup with my sister-in-law. Smiling, I said, “Olivia, as you mentioned, it could very well be a misdiagnosis. You might want to consider keeping the baby!” …… Olivia, holding the report indicating fetal demise, challenged me: “Look at these tiny letters. Isn’t this my name? How could they say there’s no heartbeat? Did the doctor make a mistake?” “I’m talking to you! Why are you spacing out?” Looking up, I saw my sister-in-law’s worried expression. When I looked down, she thrust the report at me. Seeing the bustling crowd and doctors in white coats around me, the scene felt eerily familiar. Before I could respond, my sister-in-law waved the report in my face, confronting me again: “Sophia, are you even listening? Can’t you just take this?” Instinctively, I took the report from her and glanced at my phone. It hit me—I had been given another chance, back to the day of the prenatal checkup with my sister-in-law. In my previous life, when the doctor discovered the fetal demise, they recommended induced labor. Wanting to protect my sister-in-law, I explained the medical risks of keeping a non-viable fetus and urged her to proceed with induced labor. She looked at the report and, trusting my advice, decided to terminate the pregnancy. But upon seeing the fully formed male fetus, she was stricken with fear and regret. When Ethan arrived at the hospital and learned the fetus was male, he lost control, attacking my sister-in-law and accusing Olivia of ending his son’s life, demanding revenge. Terrified of losing her life and her status as Mrs. Ethan, she pushed all the blame onto me, claiming I had frightened her with a quack doctor’s false diagnosis and pressured her into ending the pregnancy. Ethan directed his fury at me, convinced I intended to wipe out his lineage. He attacked me, choking me hard. I struggled desperately, pleading for mercy. Even my mother-in-law didn’t intervene, taking pleasure in my suffering, saying, “How could you not want my daughter to be well and even harm my precious grandson? You deserve the punishment!” My sister-in-law stood by, allowing me to take the fall, adding fuel to the fire: “Honey, it’s all Sophia’s fault. She pushed me into this. It’s all her doing. Punish her to avenge our son.” Blinded by rage, Ethan only desired my death to avenge his son, choking me and pushing me off the hospital room balcony, leading to my immediate demise. Yet, heaven granted me another chance at life. This time, I wanted to see what would happen if I didn’t persuade her to terminate. Suppressing my inner rage, I calmly told my sister-in-law: “Olivia, the report isn’t mistaken. It really is your name.” Upon hearing the report was hers, my sister-in-law roared in disbelief: “How can this be? Just a few days ago, I could still feel him moving in my belly. This must be a misdiagnosis.” I knew that, regardless of this life or the last, she wanted to keep the child. After all, the child was her bargaining chip, a means to elevate her status. In my previous life, I persuaded her for the sake of her health to agree to induced labor to save her life, but she ended up resenting me for meddling, costing me my life. So in this life, I’ll let her do as she pleases. I followed her train of thought and comforted her: “Right, right, it’s probably a misdiagnosis. You don’t always have to listen to the doctor’s advice for induced labor.” “If there’s a problem with the child in my belly, how could I not know?” “Exactly, that’s why I said it’s probably a misdiagnosis. Doctors make mistakes all the time. You should consider keeping the child.” In this life, I won’t persuade her to abort. If she ends up with a massive hemorrhage, that’s her problem. Let her do as she pleases. Olivia snatched the report from my hand, muttering to herself: “It must be a misdiagnosis. Those quack doctors.” At this point, I naturally fueled the fire, making it burn even brighter so that Olivia would cause a scene at the hospital, scaring the doctors away from treating her. I said to Olivia: “These doctors are unscrupulous. They want you to undergo induced labor, which is practically a death sentence! It’s despicable; they’ll do anything for money. You can’t let this go. You must hold the doctors accountable.” Olivia stormed into the doctor’s office, slamming the test results on the desk. “You heartless quacks! I felt fetal movement just a few days ago, and now you’re telling me the fetus is dead? You must not have checked properly. You want me to abort my child? No way.” The doctor explained: “Based on your results, we’ve confirmed it multiple times. The results are accurate; the fetus has indeed died. That’s why we recommend induced labor.” Olivia grew more agitated, throwing a fit: “What confirmation? You just did a slapdash job! You didn’t check carefully. You’re just after our money. Who knows how accurate this result is?” The doctor remained calm and continued: “We’re a legitimate facility, and our results are based on thorough examinations. We recommend induced labor because carrying a dead fetus poses high risks. A massive hemorrhage could endanger your life. But ultimately, your life is your own, and how you choose to proceed is up to you.” Olivia was fuming, taking a few steps back. Luckily, she sat down on a chair; otherwise, if she had accidentally sat on the floor, who knows whom she would blame next. Not long after, my profit-driven mother-in-law showed up at the hospital. It seems Olivia had already contacted her. She arrived and slapped me twice: “Sophia, why are you so useless, standing there like an idiot? You’re supposed to be taking care of Olivia, but you can’t even help her, letting her be bullied by those unscrupulous doctors. You’re so worthless.” I cried, covering my face, explaining: “Mom, it’s all my fault for being tongue-tied.” “Crying? All you know is how to cry. No wonder the doctors can manipulate you to take your money. You’re useless.” After hitting me, she started causing a scene at the doctor’s office entrance. “Come and see, everyone, look at this heartless hospital, these heartless doctors. They told my daughter the fetus is dead and to induce labor. This is practically murder for money. They’ll do anything for dirty money. I’ve had two kids, all healthy. How could there be so many problems?” My mother-in-law made an unreasonable scene, refusing to listen to the doctor’s explanations and causing a huge ruckus in the doctor’s office. The doctor, overwhelmed by the disruption, finally said: “Just go home. You don’t have to go through with the induced labor. Just don’t make a scene here. I won’t treat you anymore. Do as you please.” With that, we were kicked out of the office. My mother-in-law, not satisfied with her rant, continued muttering curses. As we left, I overheard the doctor muttering: “Ignorant mother and daughter. You’ll pay for the decisions you make today.” After all the ruckus, Olivia seemed exhausted, asking me and my mother-in-law to send her home. Seeing her so fatigued, more so than a typical four-month pregnant woman, I suspected the dead fetus was deteriorating inside her. If not dealt with promptly, I couldn’t imagine what would happen next. However, I’m quite curious to see how she’ll fare living with a dead fetus and what fate awaits her. As soon as we entered Ethan’s Family home, we ran into Ethan, who was about to head out. Seeing us come in, Ethan, as usual, was cold, accusing: “You’re pregnant and still running around outside. If anything happens to the child, I’ll have your head.” Looking at the man before me, I felt an inexplicable fear. In my last life, it was him who, without distinguishing right from wrong, firmly believed I was responsible for the loss of his son, accusing me of wanting to end his lineage. Yet he didn’t know that I advised Olivia to terminate the pregnancy for her health, planning to have children after recovering. He cruelly pushed me off the balcony, ending my life. Before I could gather my thoughts, Olivia, with a smile, approached him: “No, honey. This morning, my mom and the others accompanied me to the prenatal checkup.” Ethan, still in his cold tone, asked: “What did the doctor say?” Facing Ethan, Olivia’s fatigue vanished as she playfully said: “Honey, the doctor said the baby is very healthy and developing well. It’s just that I’m a bit weak as a pregnant woman, and my nutrition isn’t keeping up.” Olivia could lie without batting an eye. My mother-in-law chimed in: I was shoved off the balcony, my life taken away in a cruel twist of fate. Before I could fully grasp what was happening, Olivia flashed a smile and said, “No, sweetie, my mom went with me for a prenatal checkup this morning.” Ethan, maintaining his cold demeanor, questioned, “What did the doctor say?” Olivia, shedding her earlier fatigue, replied sweetly, “Darling, the doctor said the baby is doing well, developing perfectly. It’s just that I’m feeling a bit weak and undernourished.” Olivia was so smooth with her lies that she didn’t even blink. My mother-in-law chimed in, “Son-in-law, you have no idea how much Olivia struggled this morning, waddling around with that belly. Pregnancy is truly exhausting. You mustn’t mistreat her in the future!” Ethan glanced at Olivia’s belly and remarked, “Five million for a son, two million for a daughter. Just focus on your pregnancy.” With that, he left. My mother-in-law was overjoyed, exclaiming, “Oh my, my dear daughter, you’re carrying my grandchild, and that’s five million!” She then turned to me, boasting, “Did you hear that? That’s five million. Why are you just standing there? Can’t you see you should help?” I silently cursed in my heart, “Ha, why drag me into this? Five million, my foot! Dream on; you need a living baby for that.” I deliberately moved slowly towards Olivia, reaching out but not touching her hand. She suddenly collapsed, clutching her belly and crying out, “It hurts, it hurts.” My mother-in-law shoved me aside, causing me to fall heavily to the ground. “Sophia, if anything happens to my grandchild, I’ll hold you responsible, you useless thing.” She even tried to slap me, but Olivia was wailing on the floor. Blood flowed from her thighs, staining her pants. The driver quickly rushed her to the hospital. On the way, Olivia insisted that the previous hospital was trying to exploit her and refused to go back, opting for a different one. “As if switching hospitals would revive the lifeless fetus inside her.” At the hospital, she was rushed into the emergency room. My mother-in-law anxiously paced outside, muttering, “My grandchild, my grandchild, please be okay.” She blamed me, “It’s all your fault. If you had helped Olivia sooner, this wouldn’t have happened. If anything happens to her, see how I deal with you.” A nurse came out with a troubled expression, “The fetus has stopped developing. We need to induce labor.” My mother-in-law panicked, realizing this meant losing her five million. “No, you can’t induce labor. My son-in-law promised five million.” The nurse scolded, “What are you thinking? If the mother hemorrhages, her life is at risk. The fetus has already stopped developing.” “No, no!” “Auntie, is a life or five million more important? When a life is lost, where will the five million come from? Preserving life is crucial.” Both hospitals confirmed the diagnosis, and my mother-in-law had to accept reality. The nurse’s words made her realize she could have many more five-million grandchildren in the future. She quickly agreed to sign. In this new life, I couldn’t let Olivia easily abort the baby. I swiftly took the pen from my mother-in-law’s hand. Pretending to care for Olivia, I said, “Mom, you can’t sign. How can you abort Olivia’s baby? She cares so much about this child. You’re risking her life!” My mother-in-law slapped me again, “Get lost. It’s not your place to decide for my daughter. Let go. I can’t harm my daughter. First, save Olivia. Abort the baby.” “Mom, you must reconsider!” My mother-in-law got the pen back, about to sign, when Olivia’s voice came from the emergency room, “I decide what happens with my child!”
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