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When I opened my eyes again, I heard that familiar voice saying, "Sophia, please accept my condolences." I looked at the face before me, exactly like my husband Ethan Miller's. No, he was now "Evan," my "deceased" husband's brother. He was red-eyed, offering me insincere comfort. And lying on the ground was the real Evan, my husband's twin brother. Memories of my past life pierced my he@rt like icicles. This man before me, my husband Ethan, faked his death for his brother's widow, Lily White, taking Evan's place. When I discovered the truth, he pushed me into an icy river; when our daughter cried out for her father, he locked her in the barn for three days and three nights; my mother-in-law cursed me as a jinx, kicking us out of the house with nothing. In the end, I froze to death on a cold winter street, holding my daughter. And now, I've been reborn. This time, I didn't cry out and tear apart his facade. I collapsed onto Evan's body, sobbing uncontrollably, confirming his "death." Then, amidst everyone's sympathetic gazes, I calmly said to the imposter, so eager to destroy evidence, "Cremate him quickly, let Ethan leave with dignity." Watching him hastily carry the body away, my gaze swept over the thin scar on his hand. I lowered my eyes, pretending not to see it. Ethan, since you wanted to be Evan so much, since you wanted Lily so much… in this life, I will let you live to the very end of heck, under this false identity. --------------------- On the seventh day of the disaster relief mission, the one my husband, the General, had set out for alongside his younger brother, a breathless child from Greenwood Village appeared at my door, his face pale and his words heavy with news no one wants to deliver. Death had followed them home. By the time the somber funeral procession wound its way into the village, I didn’t spare a single glance toward my living husband. Instead, my gaze locked onto the lifeless form of his younger brother laid out on the cold ground. I threw myself over his body, and the wail that tore from my throat was raw, violent, shaking me to the core. The man standing beside me, the one who should have been in that coffin, hesitated a long, tense moment before he finally spoke. “Sophia,” he said, voice thick with pretend grief. “Please… accept my condolences.” But I knew the truth. I’d always known. My husband had wanted his brother’s wife for years. In my past life, when his brother died unexpectedly, Ethan Miller didn’t hesitate. He gave up his rank as Battalion Commander, buried his own identity, and stepped into his brother’s shoes, all to keep his precious sister-in-law from wearing widow’s black. I recognized him immediately, of course. I confronted him, demanded to know why he would abandon us, why he would choose her over his own wife and child. He looked me straight in the eye and lied. “Sophia,” he said, cold as winter stone, “I know you’re heartbroken Ethan’s gone. But you can’t start seeing me as him just because he’s dead.” Then he shoved me away. Later, he pushed me into an icy river. He shielded her, his brother’s widow, and warned me not to hope for what was never mine. Our five-year-old daughter cried for him, asking why Daddy wouldn’t look at her. For that, he locked her in the barn. Three days and nights without food. My mother-in-law, Margaret Miller, called me a husband-killing curse and threw us out with nothing. Ethan told the whole town I’d gone mad, a lustful widow chasing her brother-in-law before her husband’s body was cold. I died in the dead of winter, clutching my daughter, forgotten and frozen. But fate gave me a second chance. When I opened my eyes again, I was back here, the day my husband decided to become someone else. This time, I didn’t scream. I didn’t expose him. This time, I walked straight to Fort Liberty, looked the General in the eye, and made a different request. Strike my husband’s name from the military rolls. Let him disappear for good. *** “Sophia, accept my condolences... I never imagined Ethan would meet with such a sudden accident...” Ethan said, his eyes red, looking at me with feigned grief. Watching his brother’s body being carried in, I played my part perfectly, bursting into tears and calling the corpse my husband. Evan Miller’s face was pale and lifeless, utterly dead. He and Ethan were identical twins. No one suspected that Ethan had swapped places with him. After weeping until my voice grew hoarse, I finally dabbed my eyes and spoke with fragile resolve. “We can’t keep him waiting like this. Let’s arrange the cremation soon, let Ethan rest with dignity while he still can.” Ethan agreed almost before I finished speaking, his eagerness to erase the evidence even fiercer than my own. I watched him move the body, noting the long, thin scar across the webbing of his thumb and forefinger. That scar had given him away in my past life—the living man was Ethan. But this time, I turned my gaze away as though I’d seen nothing. My mind flashed back to how it all happened before. Ethan and Evan had been dispatched together for disaster relief when Evan suffered a fatal blow to the back of his head. He died instantly. Rather than let his brother’s wife, Lily White, face life as a widow, Ethan made a cold calculation. Without hesitation, he surrendered his rank as Battalion Commander and slipped into Evan’s identity. To everyone else, his imitation was flawless. No one suspected a thing. But to me, the woman who had shared his bed, his mornings, his breath, the truth was glaring. I recognized him the moment he walked through that door. In my past life, I had clawed at his sleeve, my voice raw with betrayal. “Why are you pretending to be Evan?” I’d cried. “Why are you throwing us away, your own wife and child?” But Ethan had been cold, denying everything and shoving me away brutally. “Sophia, I know you’re heartbroken that Big Brother is gone, but you can’t just start seeing me as him because he’s dead!” I couldn’t believe it, kept questioning him, only for Ethan to push me into a freezing river in the dead of winter. He stood on the bank, shielding Lily, watching me struggle with indifference. “Even if you are my sister-in-law, I won’t let you hurt my wife!” Lily hid behind him, calling me a shameless seductress, a woman trying to steal her man the moment my husband was cold. I ran a high fever for three days and nights, with only my five-year-old daughter by my side. She had cried, asking Ethan why Daddy wouldn’t claim her. Ethan said she was spouting nonsense at my bidding and locked her in the barn immediately to ‘reflect.’ It took me three days of illness to claw my way back from death’s door. My daughter went hungry for those same three days and nights. Then Margaret cursed me again as the husband-killing jinx, blaming me for her son’s death. She drove my daughter and me out, not even giving us a change of clothes or a single dollar bill. On a snowy night, I beat on the door desperately, begging Ethan to save our daughter. From behind the door, only his icy reply cut through the winter night: “Sophia, you’ve lost your mind if you see my brother when you look at me. If you can’t tell what’s real anymore, stay away.” And the town believed him. Whispers followed me like shadows: She was born to bury husbands. She’s so far gone she can’t even tell her brother-in-law from the man she married. With my daughter in my arms and nowhere to go, cold and starving in the harsh winter, I finally froze to death on the streets. The memory burned through me like a lit fuse. A quiet, furious flame took hold in my chest, the kind that makes me wish I could drag every last one of them down with me, into the same darkness they chose for me. Watching Ethan eagerly rush his brother’s body off for cremation, I thought coldly: Since you’re so determined to be with Lily White, I’ll grant your wish. You can be Evan Miller for the rest of your life. Ethan moved fast. Within hours, the body was cremated, and he returned carrying a simple bronze urn. Back at the house, the front room had already been turned into a makeshift funeral parlor. Neighbors from Greenwood Village, hearing the news, came by with casseroles and quiet words. They gathered around the mantel, where a framed military portrait of Evan now stood beside the urn. Seeing a man so young and vital reduced to a photo and a container of dust, more than a few of them shook their heads, murmuring prayers under their breath. I looked pallid and worn, genuinely haggard from the experiences of my past life, truly resembling a grief-stricken widow who had lost her man. Ethan kept his arm protectively around Lily’s shoulders as he addressed me, his tone carefully considerate. “The doctor said Lily needs to avoid stress, especially now, with the baby coming. It’s probably best if she doesn’t stay for the full visitation. You understand.” He helped Lily sit down carefully, his face all tenderness. I ignored their intimate display, but Lily spoke to me. “Let’s be practical, Sophia,” Lily said, her voice slick with false sympathy. “You’re on your own now. Evan’s the man of the family, you’ll be needing his help sooner or later. We can’t have you taking advantage of his generosity, now can we?” Her eyes gleamed, already counting what wasn’t hers. Ethan didn’t miss a beat. “Speaking of which,” he cut in, smooth as always, “what about that keepsake jewelry your mother left you? Those gold pieces. Lily could make better use of them now.” “Come on, Sophia,” he pressed, his tone shifting to something almost reasonable. “You’re a widow with a little girl to raise. What are you going to do with heirloom jewelry? It’s not like you’ll be wearing it to church. Let it serve a real purpose.” My head snapped up, and I stared at him. Those were things my mother had saved for all her life, the only mementos she left me before she passed. How dare he! But Ethan showed no shame, making his demand righteously. “You don’t wear jewelry doing housework and farm chores anyway. Giving them to Lily would be putting them to good use.” “And before he passed,” Ethan added, lowering his voice as if sharing a confidence, “Ethan asked me to settle some of his affairs. Hand over whatever cash he left in the house. I’ll make sure it’s handled properly.” I was silent for a few seconds, then covered my face and began to cry. “There’s nothing left,” I said, my voice hollow. “Ethan’s savings ran out months ago. I had to use what my mother left me just to keep food on the table. There’s no mon//ey. Not a dollar.” Ethan’s composure cracked. “That can’t be true,” he insisted, a tightness creeping into his tone. “Evan told me himself, he had over five hundred put away.” I held his gaze, calm and unwavering. “He was embarrassed,” I replied flatly. “Too proud to admit he had nothing. It was all just talk.” “Evan, your brother is gone. You’re the only man in the family now. Instead of helping me, you’re demanding mon//ey? Are you trying to drive me and my child to our deaths?” This was naturally a lie, but Ethan couldn’t refute it. The neighbors around us heard and looked at me with pity, urging Ethan to help me. Ethan’s face darkened. “Ethan said he had five hundred. He couldn’t have been wrong.” I gave a cold laugh, stood up, and brought out all of Ethan’s belongings. “All Ethan left were these worthless things. I’ll burn them right in front of you, so you won’t keep thinking about them.” I dragged over the brazier used for burning ritual paper, threw Ethan’s documents and letters into it, and set his clothes alight. Ethan instinctively moved to stop me, then halted, his face turning black with rage. When I threw the things he had given me into the fire as well, he finally couldn’t hold back. “Sophia, those were gifts from Ethan to you. What do you mean by burning them all?” My voice choked with emotion. “The man is gone. Keeping these lifeless things is pointless.” “Besides, you’re hounding me step by step, demanding mon//ey the moment he’s dead! I’d like to ask Ethan just where he left any mon//ey for me!” I spoke through tears, utterly heartbroken. Everyone sighed sadly. Ethan stood there, livid, forced to watch me burn everything that tied him to his old life. Back in our room, my daughter Molly opened her big eyes and asked me, confused, “Mommy, that’s clearly Daddy. Why is everyone saying he’s Uncle Evan?” My heart ached. Even our daughter knew it was Ethan, yet he never admitted it, cruel enough to disown his own flesh and blood. I pulled Molly close, her small body warm against mine as I swallowed hard against the sting in my throat. “Shhh, sweetheart,” I whispered into her hair. “That’s not Daddy. Daddy... had to go away.” That very day, I set out for Fort Liberty to see the General. I presented the death certificate to report the death and requested that Ethan’s military service record be revoked. The General said, “I’ve also received word of Comrade Ethan Miller’s sacrifice. I deeply regret this loss.” “You’re the family. Whatever needs you have, the organization will do its best to accommodate.” Without hesitation, I voiced the plan I had been considering for a long time. “General, I’d like to request a job on the base. Something that can support me and my daughter, that’s all.” The General seemed somewhat surprised. “Life on base is tough work, and it means leaving your home behind. Are you sure?” That was precisely my goal. I nodded firmly. The procedures were completed swiftly. Not only was Ethan’s military status revoked, but I was also granted a death benefit pension and funeral expenses. Returning home, I found Margaret sitting in the yard. Seeing me enter, she spoke sharply. “Look who’s back, the widow in a hurry. My son’s not even in the ground, and you’re already out making plans.” She spat the words like poison. “He never had an ounce of luck the day he brought you into this family.” My daughter sat on the ground, sniffling as she husked corn, her head bowed. Her small hands were covered in blisters. Some had broken, the wounds red and swollen. The fire of anger flared in my heart again. I immediately scooped Molly up. “Molly is only five! Can’t you see her hands are raw?” Margaret planted her hands on her hips, her voice sharp enough to cut glass. “Still causing trouble, I see! Can’t even manage this household properly, yet you’ve got the nerve to talk back?” She gestured dismissively toward Molly and me. “This isn’t your home anymore, not really. You don’t work, you don’t contribute, you think you’re entitled to a free ride?” I laughed coldly. “Well, Ethan’s dead now. I’ll just leave then, so I won’t be taking advantage of your precious family.” I turned to go, but Margaret wasn’t having it. She rushed over to block me. “If you walk out that gate, who’s going to look after Lily? She’s carrying the future of this family! You’ve lived under this roof, eaten our food, for years. You don’t get to walk away scot-free.” By the window, Lily let her hand rest on the gentle swell of her stomach, a smug, satisfied smile playing on her lips. Her eyes met mine, cool and victorious. “It’s a shame, really, Sophia,” she said, her tone all false sweetness. “Some women just aren’t cut out for family life. But this baby… he’s what matters now. The only heir the Millers have left. So I’d think very carefully about your next move.” Ethan had an arm around her, commanding me “Mom’s not as strong as she used to be, and Lily needs support. Don’t make this harder than it has to be, Sophia. Be sensible.” I couldn’t help but sneer. When I was giving birth to Molly, had he ever said I needed care? My water broke and I had to get myself to the hospital. Not a single person in this family showed any concern. Margaret had always seen me as a burden, never measuring up, never quite fitting into the picture of the family she’d envisioned. And Ethan? The moment things got hard, he disappeared. No call, no letter, no sign he even remembered my name. So why on earth would I chain myself to this house now, bending over backward to serve the very people who never lifted a finger for me? Gritting my teeth, I carried Molly back to our room and carefully applied ointment to her hands. When I stepped outside again, I overheard Ethan talking to Lily. “Ethan, just look at her,” Lily whispered, pressing closer to his side. “If you hadn’t stayed... if you were really gone... I don’t think she’d have let me live through this.” Ethan’s voice was gentle. “Don’t worry, Lily. For you and our child, I’ll protect you for the rest of my life.” “Mom is on your side too. Otherwise, why would she agree to me taking Evan’s identity?” I clenched my fists so hard my nails bit into my palms, my lips nearly drawing blood. So the child Lily was carrying was Ethan’s. Both she and Margaret knew about the impersonation. Their affair had started much earlier than I thought. I was the only one kept in the dark, fooled by him all this time. Looking at my sleeping daughter’s face, I comforted myself. For my child’s sake, we would be out of here soon. Sure enough, two days later, I received word from the General. A job had been arranged for me, and I could start anytime. I immediately began packing to leave. But as soon as I stepped out the door, I came face-to-face with Ethan’s livid expression. His eyes fell on the bus ticket in my hand. His voice was icy. “Sophia. Where do you think you’re going?”