In my previous life, after adopting a seemingly innocent black cat, my Daughter’s behavior changed drastically, becoming excessively obedient. But soon after, our family business collapsed, and my Husband died in an accident. As I tried to uncover the truth, I was pushed off the twentieth floor. On my deathbed, my Daughter, who was always so well-behaved, pulled out my oxygen tube and laughed maniacally, “This body is mine now!” I died there, only to discover that my Daughter’s life had been exchanged with the cat’s. When I opened my eyes again, I was faced with those familiar, greedy black cat eyes. “Mom, it’s so pitiful. Can we keep it?” my Daughter asked. I shook my head firmly and pushed it away, “This treacherous cat is not welcome in our home.” “You can’t be serious! This cat is blind and injured, and you still kicked it?” My neighbor rolled her eyes at me and called to the black cat, “Mimi, come here, I’ve got a treat for you.” But the cat ignored her, meowing pitifully at my Daughter. My Daughter paused and looked back at me, confused. She couldn’t understand why her usually supportive mother was saying “no” today. The black cat stared at me with its piercing eyes, tugging at my Daughter’s skirt. I could almost see the longing and jealousy in its eyes. “This cat is so smart, it’s like it can understand human speech,” someone passing by commented. My Daughter Phoebe heard this and became even more attached to the Little Black Cat. She crouched down to shake hands with it. “Wow, it really seems to understand human speech! I said shake, and it shook. I said sit, and it sat.” “Mom, it only listens to me. This must mean we’re meant to be together! Please let me adopt it,” she pleaded. “Anyway, one more cat in the shelter won’t make a difference…” But I remembered the last life, that grotesque mix of viscera and bones. Rage boiled up inside me. Being cooked alive—how painful must that have been? I didn’t dare to imagine. With red-rimmed eyes, I pushed the cat away and held my Daughter tightly. “Sweetheart, in our home, you’re the only little darling we cherish.” “Those cats, you can only care for them in your spare time…” But never at the cost of your life! My Daughter took my serious tone seriously. She tilted her head, pondering. I shooed away the onlookers. The black cat cried woefully outside the door, refusing to be taken by anyone else. My Daughter felt sympathy, “But it’s so small; what if it starves outside?” Phoebe, sharing my last name, was always more empathetic than other kids. Even with that gambling ex-husband of mine, despite the domestic violence, she thought he might have his reasons. She had the potential to be a saint. Thankfully, there was one thing she couldn’t figure out on her own, but she listened to me enough. “Mom can’t fully explain yet why we can’t keep that Little Black Cat.” “But look at it, with just a few meows, it charmed everyone else, making it seem like only we two are the heartless villains!” “And since it can meow so coyly, surely someone will adopt it. You don’t need to worry unnecessarily.” My Daughter was temporarily convinced. After dinner, she sneaked out to check, and seeing no cat, she breathed a sigh of relief and slipped back inside. I pretended not to notice. But I thought to myself, it seems I still need to teach her about the darker sides of human and cat nature. Two days later, my Daughter couldn’t bear it anymore and begged for understanding. “Mom, where do all these bad people and bad cats come from? And Little Black is so amazing, it even caught fish for me to eat!” She blurted out excitedly, and when she saw my face darken, she belatedly covered her mouth. “Oops, Phoebe accidentally let it slip…” I was filled with anxiety when suddenly, I heard persistent meowing outside the door. So, I hadn’t been imagining things at night. Despite all my precautions, it still got close to my Daughter. What would it do next? Was it going to swap my Daughter’s life again?! I quickly called the Stray Cat Rescue Center and sent it out of the province. Half a month later, while taking out the trash, I stumbled upon something. “Oh dear, poor thing. Even if you don’t want to keep it, don’t abuse it! Look at all its wounds, it’s still bleeding,” a neighbor returning with groceries saw the scene and immediately scolded. My Daughter was doing her homework inside, but upon hearing this, she immediately dropped her pen and rushed out. Seeing the red on the tip of my shoe, she couldn’t believe it. “Mom, didn’t you always say you hate violence the most? How could you be so harsh on a small animal?” Her disappointment pierced my heart. Even the meowing behind me seemed to mock my helplessness against it. How can one argue with a cat? Especially when everyone around sides with the “weak Kitty.” I couldn’t defend myself, even if I checked the surveillance; it was just one intentional or unintentional kick. In the end, I had to pay for its care and repeatedly warned the vet at the clinic, “It has a rage disorder. All its injuries are from family members of the people it’s harmed. Make sure to lock it up tightly to prevent it from escaping and hurting others again!” “Or find it a mate; maybe if it gets pregnant, it’ll become gentle.” My Daughter looked at me with a strange expression, “Mom, you…” I covered her mouth. “Sweetheart, I’ll explain everything once we’re home.” It seemed impossible not to talk it out. She didn’t understand the seriousness of the situation! Amidst the cat’s miserable cries, my Daughter kept looking back. I felt like the evil Queen Mother tearing apart the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl, judged by everyone’s eyes along the way. At the Cat Shelter’s entrance, even the neighbor across the street eyed me suspiciously. “Stop lying. I’ve checked the surveillance. You deliberately pretended not to see, aggravating the poor little cat’s injuries…” “Maybe you’re the Heartless Widow who’s been abusing the neighborhood’s cats and dogs!” “I’ll keep watching you, never letting you harm them again!” Neighbors surrounded me, pointing fingers. My Daughter felt utterly ashamed. She stomped her foot and ran inside. “That’s not true!” In the end, she still believed in me, her birth mother. I felt somewhat comforted and went to the community security to get a copy of the surveillance footage to clear my name. After all, they couldn’t just say black was white, right? My Daughter still had to attend elementary school in the community. “Ms. Harper, the surveillance backup has encountered some issues and has been overwritten. Maybe you could ask the neighbors if they happened to have recorded anything?” I didn’t expect things to become so difficult. Normally, most people would ignore a stray cat. Handling it should be simple. Yet now, I’ve got fur all over me, and my reputation’s tarnished. Right, after all, that’s an unknown evil thing… At my doorstep, a volunteer from the Animal Protection Society reached out to stop me. “Hello, we’ve received a report that you are suspected of privately abusing stray cats, Ms. Harper. Please cooperate with our investigation. ” I laughed out of anger, pointing at the yard full of well-kept, glossy cats. “Fine, investigate! If there’s one injury, I’ll accept the penalty!” The final investigation concluded with no issues. But the Mommy Neighbor couldn’t stand my composure, showing an edited surveillance video as evidence. A piercing “meow” sealed my fate. My Daughter watched as her Kitty friends were taken away, her heart breaking. “Waa… Mom, I hate you!” She ran away in a panic. I searched all night, not daring to close my eyes, fearing nightmares about my Daughter’s countless tragic deaths. The next day, a nightmare came true. My Daughter brought the cat back, refusing to speak to me out of spite. “Sweetheart, can we not keep cats for now?” I tried to negotiate, noticing a bit of Snowy tucked inside her jacket, feeling slightly relieved. But my Daughter held the Kitty tighter, “No, right now, I only have Little Black… Little White, and I can’t lose it again! Otherwise, everyone will think I made up having cat friends…” She rarely had her own opinion, but she was stubborn about the Kitty. I sighed, using my advantage as an adult to snatch up the white cat with the scent of disinfectant. I pulled her into the master bedroom. “Phoebe, I can’t hide it from you any longer.” Worried, I looked into my Daughter’s innocent eyes and chose my words carefully. “Actually, that Little Black Cat from yesterday, I’ve seen it somewhere else before…” I claimed I saw a cat with the same injuries and sweet meowing on a business trip. “…Later, the family that adopted it all died horribly, not a single one left!” “Mom, is this a story?” My Daughter blinked, glancing outside, “But it’s not night yet. And I’m grown up now, I’m not afraid of ghost stories.” I held back my fear, torn between telling her everything from my past life and fearing it would scare her young mind. Seeing her hand on the door handle, clearly thinking about the pure white cat in the living room, I panicked. I squatted down, hugging her tightly, whispering, “Anyway, what Mom said is all true. I’m really scared that you’ll be harmed by the cat…” “Sweetheart, please listen to Mom, don’t think about that Little Black Cat anymore. Let it leave with someone who can care for it better, okay?” Phoebe, with her back to me, tangled her little fingers in confusion. I only heard a muffled nod. “Okay…” I wanted to share everything about my past life with her, but I feared it might overwhelm her young heart. I watched as my Daughter reached for the doorknob, obviously thinking about the pure white cat in the living room. I became anxious. I knelt down and hugged her tightly, whispering softly. “Everything Mommy tells you is true. I’m genuinely afraid the cat might harm you…” “Sweetheart, please listen to Mommy. Let’s not think about that Little Black Cat anymore. Let it go to someone who can take better care of it, okay?” Phoebe had her back to me, and I couldn’t see her fidgeting fingers. I only heard her quietly nod. “Mm…” She blinked repeatedly, her gaze wandering aimlessly. I prepared breakfast for my Daughter and only felt relieved after watching her enter kindergarten. “Huh?” I thought I saw a black-and-white tail retract near the zipper of her backpack. It confused me. Upon closer inspection, it was just a new fluffy accessory she had. I rubbed my eyes, realizing maybe I was just tired from not sleeping all night. I turned and headed to work. At noon, I called the Vet Clinic I’d been in touch with earlier, sending a client with a signed certificate over. “That cat is dark with green eyes. Just keep it locked inside your house.” “If it can’t catch mice, I’ll send you another one!” Thinking of their family’s excellent skills, I figured there wouldn’t be any major issues. After all, even creatures respect strength. But at 5 PM, I checked messages on my Phone. “This Little Black Cat seems clueless, not as clever as you described…” The client who went on this errand wasn’t satisfied, as mentioned in Instant Messaging. I opened the photo she sent. The eyes of the black cat in the picture looked completely unfamiliar. It was a feeling I couldn’t describe. My heart raced with anxiety. In the parent group of my Daughter’s class, other parents and the Homeroom Teacher were repeatedly tagging me. “Ms. Harper, are you being responsible?” “Why did you let your daughter bring a stray cat to school? It’s scratched my Daughter. What are you going to do about it?” I rushed to the Community Elementary School. I grabbed the Homeroom Teacher, asking, “What’s happening? Where is my Daughter now?!” The Homeroom Teacher was also at a loss. “Well… I saw her in the first two classes, but after free activities, um, don’t worry, I’ll check the surveillance and ask the security at the front and back gates.” I was anxious, surrounded by a group of parents demanding an explanation. I was on the verge of breaking down and suddenly shouted. “Enough, stop it! If anyone needs to go to the hospital, just go. We’ll discuss any issues later. I don’t have time for this right now!!” Maybe it’s because I’ve managed the Taylor Group alone for the past few years, making me more assertive. Or maybe I did have a point—the priority, after all, is the children. The parents with kids scratched by the cat quickly left to get vaccines. Others still wanted to argue with me. I redirected them all to my nearly all-capable Assistant. I questioned the kids one by one. I asked if they noticed anything unusual about my Daughter this afternoon. They couldn’t say for sure, only mentioning that the cat had a strong, pungent smell. “Yeah, like the smell Mommy sometimes brings back from the salon!” “And the little cat had a bandage on its hind legs.” “By the way, the Little Black and White Cat’s scratches really hurt. It’s fierce, not gentle like it sounds.” “But it can count, super impressive!” I spotted a cat hair on one child’s clothes. Seeing the black and white pattern, and hearing familiar praises for the Kitty, I suddenly broke down. “Damn it, could it really be it?!” “Why?! Why won’t it leave our family alone?!” The Phone slipped from my hand as my Assistant continued to report. “It turns out… last night the young lady went to the Dry Cleaner. The bleaching agent on the coat matches the one on your sofa. Also, the Little Black Cat was switched…” The Homeroom Teacher rushed over with her Phone, looking relieved. “Don’t worry, someone saw your Daughter with Snowy, and she called a man Daddy.” “It’s only been an hour, she should be safe.” But I felt even more hopeless, collapsing to the ground in despair. “But he killed my Mom and Dad seven years ago!” With my Daughter now with two murderers, can she really come back safe and sound?! 5 In the hospital, everyone was struck silent. Anyone with even a basic understanding of criminal psychology knows that a murderer’s second crime is often more brutal than the first. Many have heard of that Gambler Arson Case from back then.
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