Chapter 2

The air was thick with a foul, humid heat.

Soaked in sweat, I gasped for breath, grateful to be alive.

In my ears, I could still hear Ethan's words from before I died in my past life:

"Lucas isn't your biological son, we swapped the babies back then..."

Seeing the doctor about to take my baby away,

I ignored the searing pain in my body and stumbled off the delivery bed.

"Stop! Give me back my baby!"

The doctor didn't stop; she quickened her pace instead.

I grabbed an alcohol bottle from the cart and smashed it hard against her head.

"I told you to stop!"

The doctor collapsed to the ground, clutching her head. I frantically snatched the baby and held him tightly in my arms.

The baby's high-pitched cries tore at my heart.

Tears blurred my vision. My hands trembled as I repeatedly stroked the baby's body.

Then, my hands brushed his lower body, and I froze.

"It's a girl. I gave birth to a daughter..."

I laughed and cried at the same time, tears streaming down my face.

How ridiculous that I was deceived for thirty years in my last life, believing until my death that I had given birth to a son!

The doctor picked herself up from the floor, her face full of panic, holding her bleeding forehead:

"Mrs. Sterling, you just gave birth, how could you just..."

I cut her off with a slap across her face, hitting her with all my strength.

"Bitch!"

"I clearly gave birth to a daughter, why did you say it was a son and let people be mistaken?"

Seeing my rage, a group of nurses exchanged glances, heads bowed, not daring to speak.

The doctor quickly slipped out to inform Ethan.

Ethan strode in, pointing at me, fuming:

"Olivia! The doctor just wanted to show me the baby, what are you doing, acting crazy!"

I couldn't help but sneer, "Ethan, as my husband, and the father of my child, where were you when I was fighting for my life to give birth?"

"Now that I've just had a baby, you, of all people, start by accusing me!"

A look of helplessness flashed across his face. He softened his expression, explaining:

"I went to the airport to pick up Sophia."

"She's only in poor health because she saved me back then, so of course, I have to be attentive to her."

As Ethan spoke, he reached for the baby, but I dodged him.

I didn't spare him a glance:

"I need to feed my daughter. You two, please leave."

Ethan's hand froze in mid-air. His eyes were full of impatience and irritation, and he was about to speak.

Suddenly, his phone rang loudly.

Sophia's voice, laced with sobs, came through:

"Ethan, my stomach hurts so much, please come be with me!"

Ethan immediately turned and left, no longer looking at me.

After years of marriage, I had just given birth, and he wouldn't even offer a word of concern.

Holding my baby, my heart felt like it was being twisted by a knife.

Memories, like a flood that had broken its dam, surged over me.

Sophia was an orphan. She had saved Ethan's life during a shooting incident overseas and was adopted by my mother-in-law as a foster daughter.

I once tried to introduce her to a good man, but Ethan flew into a rage, holding a knife to his own throat to threaten me.

"Sophia's not well, are you trying to force her to marry just to kill her?"

"If that's the case, then I'll return this life to her!"

Because of those words, I let Sophia stay by his side for five years.

When my parents passed away, Ethan accompanied Sophia to an art exhibition overseas.

Meanwhile, I knelt in the funeral hall, overcome with grief, collapsing and miscarrying.

My calls for him to come back went unanswered, one after another, all hung up. All I got was a single reprimand.

"Sophia finally agreed to go out. Do you really have to cause a scene now?"

And this time, during my pregnancy, Ethan had used the excuse of Sophia going overseas for an exchange program, claiming he needed to personally accompany her, and didn't return for more than half a year.

He used the "debt of a life saved" to silence me for thirty years.

In the end, I toiled my entire life, raising another woman's child, only to pave the way for her happiness.

I dialed the number that had been dormant in my phone for years:

"Are the words you said back then still true?"