On the night the college entrance exam scores were released, I watched my son slip out of the house under the cover of darkness. I saw him leave, yet I did nothing to stop him.
Why would I? I had already died once because of him.
In my previous life, I knew my wife's obsession—her "first love"—intended to harm our son. To protect him, I locked Frankie inside the house.
Years later, Frankie Pruitt graduated from a prestigious university and built a brilliant career, admired by thousands. I foolishly expected gratitude. Instead, when I was sixty and lying on a hospital bed, my own son reached out and pulled the plug on my oxygen.
"You useless leech," Frankie sneered, his face twisted with hatred. "If you hadn't stopped me back then, Mom and I would've been living the good life with Uncle John."
Beside him, my wife clapped her hands. "Finally! Aaron Pruitt, you ruined our family. You should've died years ago!"
Tears burned my eyes as darkness took me. I died filled with hate.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back—the very night Frankie sneaked out of the house.
——
This time, I didn't take a single step out of the bedroom. I waited in the dark until a notification lit up my phone. A stranger had added me on WeChat and sent a video.
"Mom! Dad! Help me! Pay them... hurry, they're going to kill me!"
The moment I hit play, my son's screams filled the room.
In the grainy footage, Frankie was shackled with heavy chains. His clothes were soaked in blood, his eyes wide with terror. He looked exactly as I had on my deathbed—helpless.
[Bring $3,000,000 before 5:00 a.m. No police. If you call the cops, he dies.]
The kidnappers had named their price.
[Please don't hurt my son. I will raise the money immediately.]
I typed the lie quickly. Then I dialed my wife, Bella Henson.
The phone rang. And rang.
I called a dozen times. No answer. I sent text after text. Silence.
I knew exactly where she was. Right now, Bella was with John Dickerson, the man she'd been obsessed with for decades. He'd recently returned from abroad, and she was probably standing by his side, enjoying the sea breeze and watching the stars while our son bled.
In my previous life, I'd overheard John's plan. I stopped Frankie from leaving, then helped the police arrest John. My reward for saving them? Betrayal and murder.
This time, I wouldn't make the same mistake.
I walked to my in-laws' bedroom and pounded on the door. "Something's happened!"
"What are you making all that noise for?"
The door swung open. My father-in-law didn't wait for an explanation—he slapped me hard across the face.
"Useless waste of space," he spat. "What kind of madness has possessed you in the middle of the night?"
"Howling over every little thing," my mother-in-law grumbled from the bed. "Compared to Little Chen, you're worthless. Truly our bad luck to have a son-in-law like you."
This was my life in the Henson household. I handled every chore, cooked every meal, stayed up night after night when they were sick. In return—beatings, insults, treated worse than the family dog. Even on their deathbeds in my past life, they never gave me a kind look.
"Frankie's been kidnapped!"
I swallowed the blood in my mouth, feigning panic. "The kidnappers want three million, or they'll kill him."
I shoved the phone in their faces—the video, the chat logs.
"Oh my god! My grandson! Why is he covered in blood?"
"You trash!" My father-in-law shoved me. "What are you standing there for? Get the money! Now!"
They were frantic, heartbroken for their precious grandson. One pushed me toward the door while the other slapped my arm.
"Dad, Mom," I sighed. "Have you forgotten? Bella controls all the money. I don't even know where the bank cards are."
Since the day we married, I'd handed every cent of my salary to Bella. I lived on a hundred fifty dollars a month. I had to file a request just to buy groceries.
I wore the same underwear for ten years until it fell apart. I wore my father-in-law's cast-offs. I endured decades of humiliation for one reason: I loved Bella Henson.
That love was gone. And tonight, they would all learn the cost of my silence.
