Chapter 1

After I died, I worked heaven for a decade and finally earned a chance to live again.

I immediately submitted my preference form to the head angel.

I said, "As we agreed before, I'm fine with being a wealthy heiress or an only daughter. I accept reassignment."

The head angel shook his head. "That was before. Now you can only be a chicken."

Ignoring the other angels around us, I exploded in anger and swept a stack of reports onto the floor.

I yelled, "I worked up here in heaven for a decade and handled countless problems for you. And now you're going back on our deal?"

The head angel looked rather guilty. "It's not my fault. Your son developed bipolar disorder. In the future, he killed without restraint."

Without hesitation, I grabbed him and forced him to send be back to Earth again.

I muttered furiously, "Dylan McCan, that bastard, not only caused my son's illness but also caused me to end up as a chicken. I'm going back right now to see what that widower did."

*****

I was a total bully when I was alive. As a kid, I'd tear through the streets chasing dogs, and in school, I was the queen of the playground. Nobody dared mess with me.

When I got older, I fought my family's battles, and somehow ended up saving Dylan by accident.

From that moment on, the rich heir was obsessed with me. He wouldn't let go, and was completely wrapped around my finger.

After we got married, Dylan knew I wasn't the type to sit idle, so he acquired a dock and put me in charge.

Back then, my business was booming. I was making waves everywhere.

Even my husband, the big-shot CEO who dominated the business world, did not dare to defy me.

But after living wild and free for half my life, I couldn't get through the hurdle of childbirth.

One second, I was yelling with full confidence, "Push harder. I'm tough as nails!"

The next, I died right there on the operating table, totally spent.

When I got to heaven, I wasn't having it. I raised hell at the head angel's place for three days and nights.

I smashed his thousand-year-old wine, spilled the food, and even bullied the other angels.

"Send me back down. I refuse to believe I can't even give birth right," I shouted.

The head angel got nervous seeing how tough I was.

He said, "Heaven's economy is tanking right now, and there're limited chances to return to earth. You'll have to wait at least ten years.

"So here's the deal. Work for me for ten years, and the moment there's an opening, I'll send you down, no questions asked."

I became the head angel's badass enforcer, running heaven with my crew for years.

When my time was up, I put in my request right away.

But the head angel told me, "Your son's got bipolar disorder, and he's gonna be a serial killer. So you can only go back and be a chicken."

"No way! Dylan's a CEO worth 30 billion dollars, and I left behind a ton of power and assets on Earth. How could my son possibly end up with a mental illness?" I shot back.

The head angel stammered, "W-well, maybe Dylan doesn't know how to raise a kid. You know how it goes. Once a kid loses his mom, it's like he's got a stepdad."

I was so pissed that I forced him to send me back to Earth temporarily.

I snapped, "What are we waiting for? I'm heading down right now to see what kind of shady crap that bastard Dylan's been up to.

"Not only did he mess up my son, but now he's got me stuck being a chicken."

Since the return permit had some kind of auto-locate magic, I'd drop right next to my son the second I got back to Earth.

I imagined landing on a soft bed, or maybe in the middle of an amusement park.

But instead, when I arrived, I was curled up tight. My ghost, no, my whole self, was crammed into a pitch-black box.

The kid in the box instantly went on alert when he heard the noise.

He whipped out a knife from his sleeve, glaring at me. "Who are you? How did you get in here?"

Seeing that shiny blade, I nearly jumped out of my skin.

"Kid, what are you doing messing around with knives?" I said. "Hand it over. I'll keep it safe for you. When you're grown, I'll show you how to use it for real."

My son, Harry McCan was clearly taken aback by how quickly I snatched the knife from him. His wariness only deepened.

I tried to push the box open, but realized the lid was latched from the inside.

As soon as I stood up and the light hit me, I gulped down a lungful of air.

I grabbed Harry, who was crouching, and hauled him out of the box along with me.

"Seriously, hiding in a box in broad daylight? What is this, hide and seek?" I asked.

Harry squinted against the sudden glare, blinking as he tried to make out my face.

As soon as he saw me clearly, his eyes grew misty and his cheeks flushed with emotion.

He pointed at me, then rushed to the bedside and grabbed a photo that had been torn apart and patched up with tape.

"You're... you're this person, aren't you?" he said, voice trembling.

In the photo, I was in my prime, holding a bunch of flowers, grinning ear to ear.

I was pregnant back then, and for once in my life, there was a real motherly glow on my face.

Watching Harry clutch that photo, it really sank in that I had a kid.

My eyes got a little misty.

I walked up to him and placed my hand gently on his head.

"Goofball, I'm not just any person. I'm your mom," I said.

I thought he'd feel comforted, but as soon as Harry heard me say "mom," he started trembling uncontrollably.

"N-no, she said I can't call anyone else 'mom'," he stammered, his voice shaking. "She's the only mom I can have."

Seeing him like that, my face went cold.