In my first life, I died because I tried to keep the peace. My sister-in-law, Molly, had moved into our apartment under the banner of extreme ahimsa—the belief that every living thing, no matter how parasitic, had an equal right to exist. I was in my third trimester, exhausted and heavy, but she wouldn’t let me keep meat in the house. When flies and mosquitoes invaded, she forbade me from swatting them. She even began secretly leaving food out for the mice and cockroaches in the kitchen. When my due date drew near, I finally tried to gently ask her to leave for the sake of the baby’s health. She exploded. She ran to the internet, sobbing on live streams about how heartless I was for throwing her onto the street. The online mob doxed me, leaving me too terrified to step outside. Eventually, a rat she had been feeding bit my ankle. I contracted rat-bite fever, miscarried, and died in a sterile hospital room. Molly’s only response to my death was that it was cosmic karma for my lack of compassion toward animals. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day she started feeding the cockroaches. … “Todd, can you talk to your sister? Ask her to go back to her own place for a while?” I gripped my phone, my heart hammering against my ribs. In my last life, I had approached Molly directly. I had been polite and soft, but she had still turned it into a war. This time, I was putting Todd in the middle. They were siblings; let them handle the friction. Over the line, Todd’s voice was instantly defensive. “Rachel, she’s only been here a week. You’re already trying to kick her out? Don’t you think that’s a bit much?” A familiar tightness squeezed my chest. I forced myself to take a slow, steady breath. “She’s refusing to let me eat meat, Todd. I’m in my third trimester. The baby needs nutrition.” “She’s just soft-hearted, Rachel. She’s been like that since we were kids,” Todd sighed, his tone dismissive. “Just eat some tofu. Get some plant protein. It’s basically the same thing.” A dull ache began to throb behind my eyes. “This isn’t just my baby. It’s yours too. Do you even care?” “She’s family. How am I supposed to just bring that up?” Todd muttered. “So you’d rather your child be born malnourished?” “Fine, fine,” he snapped, exasperated. “I’ll call her.” Within five minutes, Molly burst into the kitchen, tears already streaming down her face. “Rachel! Why are you trying to throw me out?” she wailed, waving her phone. Todd was still on the line, listening silently on speaker. Molly didn’t give me a chance to answer. “What is so wrong with going vegetarian? Women back in the day survived on basic grains, and their babies were fine! I’m doing this for you. I’m trying to build good karma for you and my nephew!” My mother-in-law, Helen, stepped out from the guest room, nodding in agreement. “She’s right, Rachel. When I was pregnant with Todd, we barely had eggs, let alone steak. I did just fine.” From the speaker, Todd’s voice chimed in. “Look, Rachel, let’s just drop it. It’s embarrassing to fight over a piece of chicken. Let’s not make a scene.” I stared at the three of them, the sheer absurdity of the moment washing over me. “Fine. If Molly is staying, I’ll go. I’m checking into a hotel.” Molly let out a dramatic sob. “If you do that, everyone will think I drove you out! Why do you have to be so manipulative?” Todd’s voice hardened. “Rachel, stop being so dramatic!” Without a word, I pulled out my phone, turned on the camera, and recorded a quick ten-second video of the kitchen. The footage was horrifying: a mouse darting behind the trash can, a cluster of roaches scattered near the baseboard, and flies buzzing over the counter. I sent it directly to Todd. “I can buy my own meals outside,” I said. “But look at this. How am I supposed to live in these conditions?” There was a brief silence on the line. Todd sounded genuinely taken aback. “Molly… is it really that bad?” But Molly was ready. “They’re living souls, Todd! Who are we to decide they don’t deserve to live? Rachel is pregnant. Bringing chemical pesticides into this house will only hurt the baby. Besides, having little creatures around just proves our environment is clean and toxin-free!” I waited for Todd to snap some sense into her. Instead, there was a long pause before he said, “Rachel, she does have a point about the chemicals. Don’t be so sensitive. Just bear with it for a little while.” A cold, hollow disappointment settled in my chest. They were cut from the exact same cloth. I turned around and walked to the bedroom to pack. Helen grabbed my wrist, her grip surprisingly tight. “Rachel, don’t do this. If you walk out, what will the neighbors think of us?” “I’m not risking my baby’s health for your reputation,” I said, pulling away. “Todd gets back from his business trip tomorrow morning,” she pleaded, her voice rising. “Just stay one more night. We’ll figure it out then.” “I can’t stay here another second.” Suddenly, Helen scrambled over to the open window, stepping onto the sill of our second-floor apartment. “Rachel! If you walk out that door, I’ll jump! You want to make us the laughingstock of the building? I’d rather be dead!” I looked at her, my voice flat. “Go ahead.” In my previous life, this exact threat had broken me. I had stayed, only to end up infected and dying in a hospital bed, losing my baby. I wouldn’t play this game again. I grabbed my suitcase and opened the front door, only to find the hallway crowded with neighbors. They had heard the screaming and were gathered around, whispering. Seeing her audience, Helen quickly stepped down from the window, rushing over to tear into me. Molly joined in, sobbing loudly, painting herself as the victim. “Rachel, this is shameful,” Mrs. Jeffrey, our next-door neighbor, said, shaking her head. “How can you try to kick your husband’s family out? At the end of the day, you married into this family. You’re the one who should show some respect.” “Who said I was kicking anyone out?” I asked coldly. Helen slapped her thighs, wailing. “You said it yourself! Either Molly leaves, or you do! Isn’t that just a passive-aggressive way of forcing my daughter onto the street?” I stepped aside, gesturing to the open doorway behind me. “Molly refuses to let us use pest control. She is actively feeding the mice and roaches. I am eight months pregnant. Am I supposed to raise my child in a disease-ridden nest?” The neighbors shifted, their expressions turning from judgment to disgust as they peered inside. “Wait, feeding mice?” Mr. Harriet from down the hall wrinkled his nose. “Molly, that’s disgusting.” “Yeah, that’s a serious health hazard for a pregnant woman,” another neighbor muttered. “If I were Rachel, I would have thrown her out days ago.” Molly’s tears redoubled. “I only did it because pesticides are toxic! I was trying to protect the baby! Why does no one understand that I’m just trying to build good karma for my nephew?” Her fragile, tearful act worked. The neighbors’ skepticism began to soften into pity. Mr. Harriet cleared his throat. “Well… her intentions were good, Rachel. You have to give her credit for that.” Mrs. Jeffrey added, “You’ve made it this far, Rachel. What’s another day or two? Just stay and talk it out.” I frowned. “So whoever cries loudest is right? Please step aside. I’m leaving.” Their pity turned back into indignation. An elderly woman stepped forward, blocking my path. “You are incredibly disrespectful, young lady. We are trying to help you, and you’re just ignoring us? I’m seventy years old, and you won’t even listen to me?” Before I could react, she snatched my wallet out of my hand, pulling out my ID card and handing it to Helen. “Keep her ID. Let’s see how she checks into a hotel now. Why throw away good money on a hotel when you have a perfectly good home? Back in my day, we gave birth in much worse conditions.” Helen and Molly lunged forward, grabbing my arms and dragging me back into the apartment. I wanted to fight them off, but I had to protect my stomach. Just then, the front door opened, and Todd walked in, suitcase in hand. “Todd,” I gasped, “tell them to give me my ID. I need to go to a hotel.” Todd looked at the chaos, his forehead creasing with irritation. “Can you stop making a scene? I just got back from an exhausting business trip. Let me rest.” He slumped into a dining chair. “Is there any food?” Helen hurriedly set a plate of leftovers and a glass of water in front of him. Todd picked up the glass, but froze. A dead fly was floating on the surface. He turned to the plate, only to see several roaches scuttling away from the rice. He gagged, pushing the plate away in disgust. “What the hell? This place is a dump! Is this how humans live?” Helen, scratching at a fresh cluster of mosquito bites on her arm, muttered, “It’s just a few bugs, Todd. It’s not going to kill you.” Molly sniffled. “It’s for the baby’s karma, Todd. It’s so he can have a blessed life.” Todd glared at me. “Look at what you’ve done. You’ve dragged the whole family into this mess. Are you happy now?” I stared at him, my last shred of hope evaporating. I had thought his return might change things, but they were all the same. “Give me my ID,” I said, my voice dead. “I’m checking into a hotel. And then, we’re getting a divorce.” Todd froze. He pulled Helen and Molly into the corner, whispering frantically. After a tense exchange, Helen walked over, scowling, and threw my ID onto the floor. Being heavily pregnant, bending down to pick it up was a struggle, but I managed. I went to the bedroom, packed a bag, and walked out. As I opened the door, Helen’s wails echoed down the hall. “My son married a monster! We came all this way to help her, and she treats us like garbage!” The neighbors gathered again, glaring at me. Mrs. Jeffrey stood in my way. “Rachel, you can’t just leave like this. It’s wrong.” I pushed past her without a word, got into a cab, and drove straight to a clean, quiet hotel. The relief of stepping into a sterile, fresh hotel room was overwhelming. I took a hot shower and lay down on the crisp white sheets, finally able to breathe. Once I was settled, I opened the security app on my phone to check the live feed from our apartment. Things were not going well for them. Without me there to act as their buffer, the tension was boiling over. Todd was pacing the living room, swatting frantically at flies. Helen was scratching herself raw, complaining bitterly about the mosquitoes. They had expected me to bear it, but they couldn’t survive an hour of their own making. Suddenly, Helen let out a piercing shriek. She had stepped on a mouse, and the startled creature had bitten her foot. She collapsed onto the floor, clutching her ankle in agony. In my past life, I had been bitten by that very mouse. Helen had forbidden me from going to the hospital, claiming the vaccines would harm the baby. She had patched me up with cigarette ash and some tissue paper. A few days later, I was dead. This time, Helen was the one screaming for a doctor. “Todd! Take me to the ER!” she wailed. “Is that really necessary?” Todd snapped, not looking up from his phone. “Stop being so dramatic. I’m trying to order food. I’m starving.” She turned to Molly. “Molly, help me!” Molly covered her phone screen. “Mom, shut up, I’m streaming live!” Left with no choice, Helen hobbled to the cabinet, found some ash, and pressed it onto her bleeding wound. Curious, I searched for Molly’s stream. It didn’t take long to find her live broadcast. She was sitting in front of her camera, weeping crocodile tears for her viewers. “My sister-in-law is so cold-hearted,” she sobbed. “My mother and I came all this way to care for her, and she treated us like servants. She looked down on us because we’re from a small town. She literally went to a luxury hotel just to get away from us.” The chat was flooded with sympathy for Molly and vitriol for me. Molly wiped a tear, a sly glint in her eye. “But you know what? I don’t hold grudges. Before she left, I snuck a little gift into her suitcase. When people throw dirt at me, I use it to grow lotuses. Hotels are full of toxic formaldehyde, but my gift will keep her safe.” I frowned. “A gift?” Then, a cold dread seized me. I remembered seeing a strange drawstring bag at the bottom of my suitcase when I was unpacking. I rushed over to the luggage. My heart nearly stopped.
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