Chapter 1
After I died, my in-laws were left fretting over the house, now labeled a haunted place.
My husband, Landon, used my life insurance money to bring home his true love. And my kids couldn't wait to welcome their new mom.
They all said, "She always thought she was the heart of the family, but even without her, everything goes on just fine."
I got a new life on the very day I collapsed from exhaustion.
I tossed the mop aside and decided to slack off for good. If anyone wanted to clean, they could do it themselves.
No one was gonna shame me into doing anything ever again.
Without me, everyone at home was running wild like a pack of unleashed mutts, celebrating their newfound freedom.
But just a few days later, they came crawling back, begging me to return.
*****
In my last life, I dropped dead from exhaustion on my 38th birthday.
Even as I was dying, I was still slaving away in the kitchen.
Outside, my youngest son was blowing out the candles on my birthday cake, and everyone looked so happy together.
Inside the kitchen, with the temperature at a scorching 107°F, I was drenched in sweat, clutching a spatula.
No one even noticed me. It wasn't until the food on the table started running out that my mother-in-law got up with an impatient look and came over to rush me.
She urged, "Ophelia, are the dishes ready yet? What are you doing, carving flowers? Why are you so slow?"
When they finally saw me collapsed on the floor, my husband and in-laws didn't even bother to call for help.
Instead, they just said, "Just lie there for a while. Don't waste money on a hospital."
Then my husband leaned in to check if I was still breathing and he finally realized I was gone.
On the way to the crematorium, my mother-in-law was wailing her heart out. "Life is so hard. We spent over 300 thousand dollars on this house, and now it's a haunted place."
She slapped Landon hard across the face. "I told you to marry a local, but you just had to pick some outsider. Now look. She died in our house."
My father-in-law was full of complaints. "Why are you hitting your son? It's all Ophelia's fault—she was way too soft."
He paused, thinking of his precious grandson. "Could she have passed down some genetic problem?"
Landon didn't say a word, couldn't care less about his parents fighting.
Landon just kept his head down, messing around on his phone, face totally blank.
He was chatting with the new girl at the office. "My wife just died. Can you say something to make me feel better?"
A month later, Landon used my thousands-dollar insurance payout to marry that new girl from work.
My kids, Alma and Jack, happily started calling her "Mom" like it was nothing.
The kids said, "Our new mom is so nice! She lets us eat fried chicken from street stalls and never nags us about homework, not like our old mom."
I literally worked myself to death. But I got so mad, I got a second life.
When I came to, I was sprawled out on the floor, still gripping the mop like it was my lifeline.
My head was pounding like someone set off fireworks inside my skull. When I rubbed it, I ended up with a fistful of hair.
I looked around at the house. One side was neat and tidy, while the other was a complete mess.
It was already 2 a.m., and Landon was sprawled out drunk on the bed, snoring like a freight train.
The bedroom was a total mess, dirty clothes and reeking socks tossed everywhere, all dumped there for me to pick up.
Flour was everywhere, in the dining room, on the table, all over the floor. That disaster zone was courtesy of Alma's craft project.
Jack had just made a mess in his pants right before bed. The whole place reeked. Nobody even lifted a finger to deal with it.