Chapter 3

After visiting Grace at the hospital, I scheduled a check-up for myself.

In my previous life, I got seriously ill about half a year after Grace passed away. The doctor said my grief made the illness get worse fast, and with the way those people treated me, I ended up dying in three months.

The results showed I was healthy, not the slightest hint of illness.

The doctor told me to take it easy and stop stressing out.

But when I started thinking about my previous life, I was lost in a daze.

Before Grace was born, Henry built a huge wardrobe in our bedroom, taking up the whole wall. He said we'd need it for all the baby stuff once Grace arrived.

Later, Henry moved into Jason's tiny room, saying it was so Grace and I could rest better. He never returned to our bedroom.

Now, everything made sense.

I didn't get it. If he wanted to be with Lydia, why couldn't he divorce me? Why did he have to destroy Grace and me?

It was just a house worth seven hundred thousand dollars. Did they have to go to such lengths for that?

I picked up the security camera I'd ordered online from the pickup spot, and when the coast was clear, I installed it in a hidden corner of the house.

I couldn't stay here any longer, so I needed a few days to find a new place, at least until Grace was discharged from the hospital.

I packed up the house deed and important documents and moved into Jason's room. I tossed all his messy bedding and clothes into the master bedroom.

Once I got a chance to lie down and rest, I reached out to a lawyer. He said as long as I could prove the house was mine before we got married, Henry wouldn't see a dime of it.

All the money Henry made over the years was community property. At least half of it was mine.

At seven in the evening, Henry showed up with Jason. Jason pushed open the bedroom door and nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw me. "Why are you sleeping in my bed?" he shouted.

I turned my back to him and didn't want to look at his face.

"The master bedroom is bigger. Why don't you and your Dad take it? This bed is way too small, and you won't get any decent sleep," I said.

"Honey," Henry said, standing in the doorway, "you're still recovering, so you should have the master bedroom."

I turned to look at him. When I stared at him without saying a word, Henry, maybe feeling guilty, rubbed his nose and said, "She's already moved into this room, so let's not make a scene. Jason, come help tidy up."

I heard Henry head into the master bedroom and open every window he could. He made sure every single one of those floor-to-ceiling windows was wide open.

Jason yelled, "Dad, it's freezing. Why are you opening the windows?"

"Just letting in some fresh air," Henry replied.

Now he suddenly cared about fresh air? Back when I was staying there, the moment I tried to crack a window, he'd rush over to shut it.

He'd told me not to let Grace get cold or that if I caught a cold late in my pregnancy, it'd be a hassle to take medicine.

I let out a little laugh and heard Jason complain loudly, "What about my food? There was nothing for breakfast, and now there's no dinner?"

Henry, clearly annoyed, came in and said, "Anna, you're still recovering, but getting up to cook isn't that hard. We had a nanny, but you chased her off. Do you expect me to make dinner after work?"

I couldn't help but find it hilarious. I'd already eaten, so I wasn't hungry anyway.

"Seriously? Are you expecting a woman who had a C-section less than ten days ago to get up and cook for you? Henry, you want the whole neighborhood to laugh at you?" I sneered.

Henry's face flushed red. He was about to say something when his phone started ringing.

Jason dashed in from the living room, thrusting the phone into Henry's hand. "Dad, it's Lydia. Something must be up," Jason yelled.

I could make out Lydia's tearful voice on the line. She sobbed, "Henry, there's a sudden leak at my place, and the neighbors downstairs are causing a fuss. I have no idea what to do. Can you help me?"

"Don't worry, Lydia, I'm coming right over," Henry replied, hanging up. He glanced at me, his eyes flickering with hesitation.

"Dad, what are you waiting for? Let's go. What if Lydia gets picked on while she's all by herself?" Jason pressed.

Jason dragged Henry toward the door, spun around to glare at me, and snapped, "You vicious woman, don't think about stopping Dad and me from helping Lydia. I wish Lydia were my Mom instead of you."

If I hadn't given birth to Jason myself, I'd suspect he was Lydia and Henry's son.