Chapter 1

On the day I was supposed to give birth, I got into a serious car accident on my way to the hospital. My husband, Henry Cantrell, an emergency room doctor, rushed off to save his wrist-slitting first love. I didn't call him. Instead, I chose to watch as the wrecked car exploded into flames. That was because, in my past life, Henry had left the bleeding Madeline Boone alone to come save me because of my phone call. Although my unborn child and I survived, Madeline died from blood loss at home. Her body wasn't discovered by my husband until three days later. Henry said he didn't blame me for her death, that it had been his choice to come to me. He even insisted on organizing a wedding ceremony to make up for the last one. But the night before the wedding, he knocked me out and dragged me to Madeline's house. In the bathtub where she had slit her wrist, Henry tortured me with countless cuts, even cutting the baby out of my womb. He stared at my bloodied, mangled body with bloodshot eyes. "Wasn't it a mere car accident? You weren't even going to die from that! But Maddie died because of your car accident. I'll make you feel all the pain she went through that day!" When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day of the accident. With a loud crash, the car flipped over and over. Pregnant and helpless, I lay in a pool of blood. As the electric vehicle had been struck hard, thick white smoke poured out from it. I never expected to come back to this moment. Realizing what was happening, I used all my strength to crawl halfway out of the driver's seat. Unfortunately, my lower body was completely stuck and couldn't be moved. Afraid of being caught in an explosion, the pedestrians around kept their distance. My cries for help were drowned out by the noise all around. Seeing that shouting wouldn't help, I shakily called emergency services. The cramping in my abdomen intensified, cold sweat beading on my forehead. On the other end of the line was one of Henry's colleagues, Clara Jennings, whom I'd met a few times. Hearing my voice, she coldly said, "Rachel, Dr. Cantrell is busy today. Before he left, he told us that you might try the office if you couldn't reach him. "Look, I know what you're going to ask, but I really can't tell you where he went. This line is for emergencies. You can't just waste emergency resources. I'm hanging up now." The moment I heard she was about to hang up, panic overtook me. In my struggle, a pile of Madeline's makeup products, which she had left in the side pocket of the passenger side door, came tumbling down onto me. Without even caring what was falling on me, I hurriedly yelled, "Wait! Don't hang up! You misunderstood—I'm not calling to ask for Henry. "I've been in a car accident at the intersection right in front of your hospital. The car could explode at any moment. Can you please get someone—" Clara cut me off impatiently, "Rachel, can you stop your act? Dr. Cantrell isn't here. Even if an ambulance goes to you, you still won't be able to see him, so stop it already. "This line is for saving lives. Now stop hogging public resources. I'm begging you. Dr. Cantrell doesn't mean to ignore your calls. What he's handling really is a life-or-death matter. "You're pregnant. Just focus on your delivery, and stop overthinking. He'll explain everything when he's free." Then she hung up. Tears of despair fell from the corners of my eyes, dripping onto the ground. I didn't think Henry would be heartless enough to cut off every path I had to survive. In the past, when Madeline had summoned him with various excuses, I had indeed called his office a few times. But I had never lied, let alone wasted emergency resources. We had been together for seven years, yet in the end, this was how he saw me. No wonder he had been so cold and merciless as to cut me up for Madeline in my past life. There was no time to think as I was on the verge of death. The temperature in the car kept rising. It was clear the vehicle was going to explode soon. Taking a few deep breaths, I looked down at the bulge of my stomach. With all my strength, I tried to crawl out through the shattered window. Shards of glass slashed my palms, embedding deep into the wounds. I managed to drag myself a few more inches out of the car. Exhausted, I collapsed on the ground, gasping for breath. The scorching heat inside the vehicle was intense against my skin. Within two short minutes, smoke had completely engulfed the car. More and more people gathered. A few good-hearted bystanders cried out for help, frantically asking if any doctors were nearby. Soon, hurried footsteps approached. To my shock, the head of Henry's department, Dr. Benjamin Weber, appeared before me.