Emergency rebirth: Revenge time
Chapter 1
My one-year-old son, Timmy, and I were on a family trip. The brakes failed. The crash was horrific.
Timmy and I were rushed to the ER, needing emergency surgery. The blood bank was empty.
The doctor frantically called my husband, Mark.
He refused to donate blood.
Timmy and I bled out on the operating table.
Mark moved another woman and her child into our house. He used my insurance settlement to throw her a lavish wedding, building his happiness on our graves.
I died filled with rage.
Then I woke up, the day before the accident.
This time, I’m getting even.
1
At the emergency room, a doctor frantically called Mark using my phone, explaining the accident. Mark mumbled something about rushing over but took half an hour. They’d thrown every resource at Timmy and me, but the blood bank was dry. We were both A-positive, just like Mark. He finally arrived, and the doctor practically shoved him toward the operating room.
“Mr. Johnson, your wife and son are critical! Why the delay? We can still save them—just donate blood; we’re ready!”
Mark glared at the room, his brow furrowed.
“Traffic, what can I do? I’m here now, aren’t I? Don’t act like I killed them. They’re not dead yet, are they?”
The staff was stunned.
“Mr. Johnson, that’s your wife and son in there! How can you say that?”
“The accident was bad. Your wife broke her leg protecting Timmy! But that’s not the point—donate the blood! The surgery’s ready, just waiting on you!”
Mark’s face hardened.
“Are you kidding? Your blood bank’s empty? That’s malpractice! I’m anemic; I can’t donate that much blood. No way.”
The doctor’s face flushed.
“It won’t be much, it won’t hurt you. You’ll recover in a month. Is a little blood less important than your wife and son’s lives?”
A nurse chimed in, furious.
“Yeah, your wife almost died giving birth! What kind of man are you? In ten years, I’ve never seen a family member act like this!”
But he wouldn’t budge, growing more impatient.
“You’re short on blood, that’s your problem. Why should I fix your mistakes? Shouldn’t you be taking responsibility?”
“No way I’m donating. My health isn’t good. A surgery like that takes half my blood—for two people? I’d die!”
Bystanders tried to intervene, but Mark remained firm. A man with a bandaged leg, clearly agitated, stepped forward, rolling up his sleeve.
“It’s just blood! I’m A-positive too. Use mine! Is saving someone’s life that hard?”
“Your wife’s blind to marry you!”
The doctor thanked him profusely, pulling him toward the needle.
Mark lunged, blocking them.
“Who are you? I don’t know you! You could have a disease! I refuse to let you donate to my wife. Get lost!”
He and the bystander argued. Mark kicked the man’s injured leg, reopening the wound. The nurse frantically took the injured man to be re-bandaged.
I strained to sit up, hearing the commotion. Timmy’s heart monitor shrieked.
Ignoring the pain in my broken leg, I begged Mark.
“Even if you won’t save me, save Timmy! He’s only a year old; it won’t take much blood!”
The words drained me. Blood soaked the sheets.
But Mark still refused.
Ten minutes later, Timmy and I were dead. The doctor delivered the news.
After death, I hovered in the room. Mark got our death certificates, no grief, even a hint of glee on his face. My heart sank. Despair and rage consumed me. I never imagined my husband of three years was such a monster. He’d vowed to protect me, cried holding Timmy after birth, saying we were his everything. I’d quit my job to care for Timmy, used my savings and sold my car to help his business. This was my reward?
My rage lingered as I watched him. Three days after the burial, he brought a woman and child home. I recognized her—his “cousin,” Susan. She’d divorced three years ago, owing $100,000. He’d “lent” her money, helped her find housing. Now, they were in my bedroom.
“It’s better this way; two problems solved,” Mark whispered to Susan, who was nestled in his arms. “The hospital’s blood shortage is their problem, not ours. The car’s gone. No one will find out I tampered with the brakes. Once the lawsuit settles, I’ll buy us a mansion. I was wrong to marry you. You and Timmy suffered. I’ll make it up to you.”
He showered her with kisses.
“How much will the hospital pay? What if it’s not enough?” she asked.
“The hospital won’t pay enough? There’s my in-laws. The loss of their only daughter… same method. Their estate will be ours. I’ll have inheritance rights. Then I’ll give you the wedding you deserve. No one can stop us. Whatever diamond you want, I’ll buy it…”
Their intimacy was sickening. The rage was unbearable. I wanted revenge, but my hands passed through their bodies. They remained oblivious. My hatred was immense. He’d killed Timmy and me, and was plotting to kill my parents!
Then, a dizzying sensation. I opened my eyes.
I pinched myself. It hurt. I was alive. My phone showed the date—the day before the accident. Mark entered with breakfast, kissing my forehead.
“Awake? Good. Breakfast is ready. Remember that trip to the mountains for the spring festival? Gas is full. Wherever you want to go.”
“That mountain’s supposedly lucky. Maybe we’ll get a big deal!”
He’d lured me there; the nearby hospital had a blood shortage. What a plan! But I wouldn’t reveal my hand.
I took the sandwich. Timmy started crying. Remembering his death, tears welled in my eyes. Mark hugged us both.
“Why are you crying? Don’t cry; I can’t handle both of you crying. How about a new Cartier bracelet for you? Anniversary present.”
He had bought it for Susan.
I suppressed my anger. “Good. Are you free this afternoon? Timmy needs new clothes. It’s getting warmer.”
He was focused on the accident, missing my calculating gaze. He agreed, leaving for work. I contacted my friend to investigate Susan. He found her near the mall, living in a lavish apartment thanks to Mark.
I thanked him and switched off my phone. Timmy stopped crying, staring at me.
Mark was guilty. Timmy was innocent. I’d protect him.
I took Timmy to the mall, bought his clothes, and waited for Mark and Susan. Around 5 pm, Susan arrived. She looked carefree.
I sent Mark a text.
“Timmy and I are at the mall. Too many bags; you’ll have to pick us up.”
He replied, hesitant.
“Where are you? I can’t leave. Just call a cab.”
He feared encountering Susan.
I texted back:
“We’re tired and can’t walk. It’s rush hour; can’t get a cab. Come get us. We’re at the mall café. I have a surprise for you. Hint: Cute animal with a wagging tail! ” I added a kissy-face emoji.
He fell for it. An hour drive, he made it in half. Susan was resting when he arrived. He panicked, grabbing the bags, wanting to leave.
“So many bags? I have a meeting; let’s go home.”
I clung to his arm, acting coy.
“Honey, we’re already here, haven’t gotten you a gift yet. You’ll love it.”
He was speechless, as Susan caught sight of us.
I cuddled up to him, winking at Susan.
“Susan! Fancy seeing you here! Taking Timmy out for a walk? It’s hard work to be a single mother, but hope you’ll find someone like my husband. He does everything at home; we even fight over chores. It’s almost our anniversary. I got him a surprise. Every couple needs some spice in the bedroom, right? You can ask me for advice when you meet someone.”
Susan’s face darkened.
Mark stammered, “Susan doesn’t want to marry right now. So many people, let’s not talk about this. Let’s go. Timmy’s hungry.”
I kissed Mark’s cheek, “I’m so lucky to have you.”
As Mark paid, I noticed Susan’s resentful gaze. I went to the door, shouting to Mark.
“Honey, I’ll drive your car tomorrow. It has more space for Timmy.”
The music was loud, he didn’t hear. But Susan did. She left, thinking he’d agreed.
I smiled. The game was afoot.
At home, Mark wanted me to try on the new clothes, but I feigned an early period. He went to bed. At 3 am, the garage alarm went off. Susan was there, tampering with his car.
I let her go. I took Timmy and my car to get the brakes checked. Mark packed for our trip. I watched him drive off.
His work required the highway. Susan’s revenge would be his undoing.
