One Night at a Hotel Ruined My Life

"Her parents are both teachers. Who would've thought they'd raise a daughter like this? Maybe the apple doesn't fall far from the tree."

I looked up. The voice belonged to Laila Madison—my mother's colleague. She'd always held a grudge over a failed promotion, but I never imagined she'd seize the chance to publicly humiliate me to get back at my mother.

I clenched my fists. "That's not true. I was just out jogging this morning. My legs were sore, so I—"

"Ha! Shameless little slut," she sneered. "First you claim you were sleeping at home, now you're saying you went jogging? You can't even keep your lies straight!"

"So disgusting," another woman chimed in. "It's one thing to act like a wild animal, but you've got the nerve to call the police about it? What's wrong with you? Are you mentally ill?"

"You like attention, huh? Then today, we'll give you a real show. Let everyone see what kind of filthy trash you really are."

A group of furious women surged through the crowd. They yanked at my clothes, grabbing fistfuls of fabric and hair while hurling punches and slurs. Their anger wasn't just righteous—it was feral.

The police struggled to restore order. After several agonizing minutes, they finally pulled the attackers off me. My clothes were torn, my hair disheveled and my face stung with cuts and bruises.

One officer stepped forward. "Whatever your motive was, you've already caused serious public disturbance. You need to apologize to the families involved and help calm things down."

My heart dropped. So that was it? No further investigation, no justice? Just bow my head and take the fall?

But if I apologized now, it would be no different from throwing myself off a cliff.

I pushed my hair behind my ears, straightened my torn blouse and looked the officer dead in the eye. "That person in the video isn't me. I will not apologize."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed.

"Officer, this isn't just online bullying anymore—it's real-world assault. If you write this off as some stunt I pulled, then the true culprit walks away scot-free."

"Do you have any idea what an apology would cost me? Even if it kills me, I won't tolerate this kind of injustice."

He studied me, his expression unreadable. Then his voice dropped into something heavier, colder.

"We've reviewed the video and all available surveillance. No signs of editing. The DNA test results are official—there's no chance they were faked."

He paused.

"If the person in the video isn't you, then who is?"

That was the question haunting me. In my previous life, I never found out. I'd died still carrying that confusion.

Now, even with a second chance, I had no more clarity. My mind swirled with half-formed thoughts, but none sharp enough to cut through the fog.

My silence emboldened the crowd again.

"The evidence is there and she's still playing the victim?"

"Lock her up! Maybe jail will finally teach her something."

"She dared to mess with eight men—what's next? A whole army?"

"Someone test her for STDs before she infects the whole city."

"Her poor husband. He'll never live this down. She's ruined his name."

Their scorn wrapped around me like chains. No matter how many times I said it wasn't me, it only made me sound more guilty.

The officer glanced at the growing crowd and sighed, then gestured for his colleagues. "Take her in. We'll handle the rest at the station."

Just like before.

In my previous life, I'd been dragged away the same way—charged with disturbing the peace and distributing obscene material. Fifteen days locked away like a criminal. By the time I got out, my parents were already gone—died miserably at home, their bodies left untouched for days.

And I didn't even have time to mourn before the real punishment came. The enraged families of the men from the video found me, beat me senseless. I died without even understanding who had framed me.

Now, even with this second life, was I doomed to relive it all?

No. I refused.

If I couldn't find the person who destroyed me, then what was the point of coming back?

As I stumbled toward the waiting police vehicle, the weight of two lives crushed down on me. I kept replaying every moment, every detail, from both timelines.

And then—something clicked.

I stopped walking. My eyes widened, the haze in my mind evaporating in an instant.

I spun around, lifted my head and shouted toward the crowd with everything I had:

"I know who the person in the video is!"