Chapter 1
When I was frur monùs pregnant, my husband Ticus Freier. a gynecologist, accompanied me to pick up my premtul test
results.
The moment he saw the report his smile froze instantly, and be forciny dragged me toward getting an aborton.
I stood there stummed. The attending physician had just told us the fecus was perfeccy heatix.
I broke free from his grip and demanded. “Why do you want me to have an abun
He didn’t answer and had already started booking an abortion procedure for me.
સ
Seeing that I was about to run, he gripped my arm tightly: “”This child absolutely cannot be kept!”
I protected my belly and quickly called my parents, mĒTO METO also gonecologists.
My father, who had always doted on me, raised his fist to strike my belly
My mother’s face turned pale with horror as she shook her head frantically: “No. Find some men and lock them in a room xWZZO
Selema.“”
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I couldn’t understand why they wanted to get rid of my child this way. I tried to escape, but they still locked me in a dark
room.
Watching the blood flow from my lower body, I knew my child
was gone.
My mother came to pick me up with a smile. I desperately questioned why they had treated me this way.
She didn’t answer and sent me to a psychiatric hospital.
I was tortured to death in the hospital. When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn, back to the day we were supposed to pick up the prenatal test results.
Titus smiled at me: “Honey, this is our first child. I’m really looking forward to the day he’s born. Let’s go, the hospital will get crowded later.”
Hearing Titus’s urging, I snapped back to reality.
Feeling my slightly rounded belly, I confirmed that I had indeed been reborn, back to the day we were going to the hospital to get the prenatal test results.
In my previous life, ever since I got pregnant, Titus had been
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extraordinarily careful in taking care of me.
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Every day he would buy something new for the child, and he had even chosen over a hundred names.
The hospital where I had my prenatal checkups was where he worked, and he would always take time off to accompany me to the appointments.
Titus made no effort to hide his anticipation and love for this child.
When I was four months pregnant, we went to the hospital for a routine checkup as usual.
The attending physician informed us that the fetus was very healthy and ruled out the possibility of Down syndrome.
Titus, being a gynecologist himself, also glanced at the report.
But his smile immediately froze, and his face showed horror.
He immediately grabbed my hand, wanting to book an abortion procedure.
I stood there in bewilderment and shook off his hand: “Titus, isn’t the baby fine? Why do you want me to have an abortion?”
But Titus didn’t answer me and continued booking the abortion procedure on his phone.
I tried to snatch his phone away. But he was breathing heavily, his eyes bloodshot, and he roared at me: “Selena, this child absolutely cannot be kept!”
I was frightened by his behavior, my heart racing uncontrollably, and my legs went weak.
Taking advantage of Titus handling the procedure
arrangements, I quickly sent a message to my parents, who were
also gynecologists.
Soon, my parents arrived.
When Titus saw them, instead of being nervous, he actually
smiled.
I cowered in my mother’s arms. My father punched Titus in the face: “Why do you want her to have an abortion?”
Titus said nothing but handed the prenatal test report to my
father.
The moment my father saw the prenatal test report, the on his face turned to horror.
anger
His eyes widened, his hands trembling as he held the prenatal test report, and he raised his fist to strike my belly.
Fortunately, my mother blocked him.
The punch landed on my mother instead. She shouted angrily: “Have you lost your mind too? Selena is carrying your grandchild!”
My father sneered and handed the prenatal test report to my mother.
My mother, who had just been protecting me, turned pale.
She pushed me out of her arms and shook her head desperately: “No, no.”
At this point, I realized there was something wrong with the prenatal test report and quickly asked: “Mom, what’s wrong? What’s the problem with my child?”
But my mother ignored me, still immersed in her own emotions.
“This won’t work!” She grabbed my father’s hand: “It’s too obvious in the hospital. I have an idea. Find some men and lock them in a room with Selena.”
I stood there stunned, my whole body numb, not understanding why they all had this reaction after seeing that prenatal test
report.
But what exactly was the situation? Why wouldn’t anyone tell me the truth?
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Seeing my parents preparing to take me away, I turned and ran, but my father caught me.
I cried and begged them to let me go, or at least tell me the truth.
But they forcibly stuffed me into the car, gagged me, and even locked me in a dark room with five naked men.
I was so terrified I nearly collapsed, desperately pounding on the door, begging them to let me out. But there was no sound from outside.
Several men dragged me to the ground. If I showed any resistance, they would beat me.
Eventually, the fetus turned into a pool of dried blood on the ground.
A week later, my parents and Titus came to get me.
My mother smiled at me: “Selena, let’s go home.”
I sneered, not understanding how she could pretend nothing had happened.
I shouted: “Why? Why did you treat me this way?”
My mother’s face suddenly turned cold.
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My father slapped me across the face: “Ungrateful bitch!”
I was stunned.
Then
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my mother looked at me with a vicious gaze: “Selena has gone crazy. Let’s send her to a psychiatric hospital.”
Ever since I was forcibly committed to the psychiatric hospital, Titus had people come to torture me every day.
My husband, who once loved me deeply, couldn’t wait for me to die.
Three months later, I was tortured to death.
But I still didn’t know why they all wanted to kill me after seeing that prenatal test report.
The fear from my previous life surged up. My hand gently caressed my belly.
I took a deep breath. In this life, I must find out what really happened.
