My husband saved his childhood sweetheart's son during the flood—the boy who was farther from shore, the one in the safer position—and watched our son cry and scream for Daddy and Mommy as the current swept him away.
After the floodwaters receded, I clutched our son's corpse, shattered, and demanded answers.
But my husband didn't think he'd done anything wrong.
"I'm the Civilian Rescue Team captain—I can't show favoritism! If I save our son first, everyone else will do the same. It'd be chaos."
"Have some empathy. We can still have more children. But Serena Harding's boy is posthumous. If she loses him, how is she supposed to go on?"
Everyone praised my husband for his righteousness. The childhood sweetheart's son even knelt before me, lisping that he'd be filial in place of my own boy.
In a daze, I took him in as my godson. Transferred all my love onto him.
Until the day I lay dying, my body failing.
Only then did Serena Harding confess—dripping with sarcasm.
"Thank you for everything you gave my son. And it wasn't for nothing that I took a gamble and threw both kids into the flood that day!"
I shattered. Tried to drag her down with me.
But the son I'd loved for thirty years kicked me aside.
"My godfather and my mom are the real couple! You stole her man, so I took your son's life—fair trade!"
"Besides, my godfather knew the whole time. He's not even mad. So what's your problem?"
I understood everything. But there was nothing I could do. I died with tears streaming down my face.
When it happened again, my husband still chose to save the childhood sweetheart's son.
But this time, I didn't cry.
They did.
—
"Quick! Kids fell in the water over here!"
"Captain Gilbert—it's your son and your neighbor Serena Harding's boy!"
I dropped the bandages I was wrapping around an injured man and stumbled toward the riverbank with a few surviving grandmas and aunties. Sure enough—my son Ethan and Serena's son Marcus were struggling in the current.
The situation was exactly like my last life.
Ethan was closer to shore, but he was only clinging to a few flimsy strands of water grass. His face was ghost-white, and he kept screaming, "Daddy! Mommy! Save me!"
Marcus Delgado was farther out, but a fallen tree was blocking the current, and he was hugging a jutting rock. Farther away—but obviously safer.
My husband Alex Gilbert, captain of the Civilian Rescue Team, came running. When he saw them, his face went pale. He started tying a rope around his waist.
I rushed to block him.
"Alex, you have to save Ethan! He's our only child—you can't abandon him!"
Alex looked at the crowd and said impatiently, "Our child is a child—other people's children aren't?"
"Right now, I'm not just Ethan's dad. Not just your husband. I'm the captain everyone chose. I can't put our family above everyone else."
I was furious. But I didn't lose control like last time—didn't say things that made everyone turn against me.
Instead, I explained calmly.
"I know you're fair. I know you refuse to show favoritism. After the flood hit, you protected everyone else's property—we didn't save a single dollar of our own."
"But this is different. Ethan's situation is more dangerous. He's closer to shore. And you know he can't swim. Serena's boy can."
The onlookers were grateful for Alex's selflessness—but they could see with their own eyes who was in real danger. One by one, they spoke up for me.
