After Rebirth, I Watched My Brother and Sister-in-law Make Trouble

In my previous life, my sister-in-law, Rachel, was pregnant with a child who had Down syndrome.

I advised her to terminate the pregnancy, but she insisted that the baby was her treasure and that she would keep it no matter what.

Later, on the day the child was born, my sister-in-law’s mother took one look at the baby and smothered it in its blanket.

Then, she had the audacity to frame me for it.

Years later, my sister-in-law gave birth to a sweet, lovely daughter and, with my help, lived a happy life.

But she never forgot about the baby she lost. She always believed I was the one who killed her son.

Her resentment festered until she finally found the opportunity to push me off a cliff, leaving me to die.

No one even bothered to take care of my body – they left me for the wolves.

Now that I’ve been given another chance, I hear the doctor advising her to terminate the pregnancy, and I immediately speak up.

“Rachel, that’s your son! He’s a life, too – you can’t be so heartless.”

…

“There’s a 95% chance this child will be born with Down syndrome. You and your family need to decide quickly whether you want to keep the baby or not,” the doctor said, his voice ringing in my ears.

I reacted instantly.

I’ve been reborn!

In my past life, it was at this moment that I spoke up, knowing a child with Down syndrome would bring lifelong hardship to both parents.

The child’s own life would be full of misfortune, too.

So, I urged my sister-in-law to terminate the pregnancy.

But she cried to my brother, telling him I was trying to kill their baby.

My brother slapped me so hard I fell to the ground.

“Emma, how could you be so cruel? You want to kill your nephew!” he shouted.

In the end, they insisted on having the baby.

But the very night the baby was born, Rachel’s mother strangled him to death.

She knew the child’s birth would only bring misery, but she framed me for it. I ended up paying for it with my life.

Remembering all this, I took a deep breath.

“Rachel, this baby is your son! He’s the result of your love with my brother – you can’t give up on him.”

She smiled and nodded.

“Emma’s right. He’s my treasure. How could I ever give him up?”

My brother agreed – they both were determined to have this child.

The doctor just sighed and shook his head.

“You really need to think this through,” he warned.

Rachel waved her hand dismissively.

“What kind of doctor are you? Where’s your compassion? This is a human life, and you’re telling us to give it up. What’s your agenda here?”

The doctor’s face darkened with frustration.

Not long after, Rachel’s mother, Karen, rushed over.

“Rachel, you can’t keep this baby.”

My sister-in-law’s face soured.

“Mom, what do you mean?”

“Children with Down syndrome are mentally disabled, Rachel. They can’t take care of themselves, and if you have this baby, you’ll be bringing hardship into your life.”

I smirked. In my previous life, I had said the same thing, but she didn’t listen. Instead, she resented me for it.

In this life, I wasn’t about to be so kind.

“Karen, you can’t say that! The doctor said there’s a 95% chance, but that means there’s still a 5% chance the baby could be fine.

“With someone as wonderful as Rachel, I’m sure the baby’s part of that 5%.”

Rachel nodded enthusiastically.

No matter what her mother said, she refused to terminate the pregnancy.

She was determined to keep the baby.

In the end, her mother, like the doctor, shook her head and sighed in exasperation.

“You’ll regret this one day,” Karen muttered.

Not long after, Karen moved in with us under the guise of helping to care for my sister-in-law during her pregnancy.

Our house was big, but it was just my brother, Rachel, and me living there – our parents were away on business.

One day, Karen made a bowl of soup and handed it to me.

“Emma, take this to Rachel. She’s pregnant and needs to stay strong,” she said.

I stared at the dark liquid in the bowl.

In my past life, I didn’t know the soup was tainted, and I became a pawn in their game unknowingly.

But before Rachel could drink it, her best friend had showed up and noticed something wrong with the soup.

She threw the entire bowl in my face.

“Emma, you are pure evil! You can’t stand the idea of me giving your brother a son, can you?” Rachel yelled.

I tried to explain that Karen had made the soup, but she didn’t believe me. She called my brother, who nearly beat me to death.

In the end, Rachel took a knife and slashed my face.

“Hmph! Try to hurt my son, and I’ll ruin your face.”

Now, holding the bowl of soup in my hands, I walked into my sister-in-law’s room.

Her best friend glanced at it and was about to say something, but I beat her to it.

I dropped to my knees in front of Rachel.

“Rachel, you can’t drink this soup. I just saw Karen put something in it. She’s still trying to get rid of your son.”

Rachel jumped up in a rage and stormed into the kitchen.

“Mom, what are you doing?” she shouted.

Realizing she had been caught, Karen pointed at me immediately.

“It was Emma! She’s the one who put something in the soup. She’s scared you’ll have a son and take her inheritance, so she’ll do anything to stop you from having this baby.”

What a cunning old woman, willing to do anything for her foolish daughter.

But her foolish daughter didn’t appreciate the effort at all.

Rachel spun around, grabbed the steaming bowl of soup, and prepared to throw it at me.

I quickly raised my phone and said loudly, “Rachel, look! I recorded the whole thing.”

They’re mother and daughter. Of course, Rachel would trust her own mother over me.

That’s why I was smart enough to record everything on video.

The video was crystal clear.

Rachel took one look at the footage on my phone and nearly fainted from anger.

“Mom, you’re my mother! How could you do this to me? I’m carrying your grandson!”

Karen was crying, wiping her nose and eyes.

“Rachel, I’m only doing this for your own good. You can’t keep this child. He will ruin your life.”

Rachel, clutching her belly, was so furious she could barely breathe.

In the end, she pointed toward the door.

“Get out! I’ve never seen a grandmother who wants to kill her own grandson.”

Karen, with her daughter pointing at her in rage, packed her things and left the house immediately.

She didn’t come back, until Rachel went into labor.

Rachel, touching her belly every day, eagerly awaited the arrival of her child.

Finally, the day came.

After hours of agonizing labor, the baby came into the world with a loud cry.

The doctor, holding the baby, came out and gave us a look, clearly hesitant to speak.

I knew exactly what the doctor meant, and so did Karen.

My brother quickly took the baby from the nurse. One glance and his face went pale.

“No, no, this can’t be! Rachel said the baby was fine. We were supposed to be part of that lucky 5%.”

Karen narrowed her eyes maliciously as she looked at my brother.

“Stay here with Rachel. I’ll take the baby for his shots.”

She took the baby and started walking away, and I knew what she was planning to do.

There was no way I’d let her succeed like she did in my previous life.

I followed her. She was seething.

“Why are you following me? Go back and help your brother take care of Rachel.”

I smiled and kept walking right behind her.

“No worries, the nurses are there. I’d rather stick around to make sure nothing unexpected happens.”

She paused for a moment.

In my past life, she had strangled the baby in the hallway and pinned the blame on me.

But not this time. I wasn’t giving her any chance to do that.

She wandered around with the baby, clearly frustrated that I wouldn’t leave her alone.

In the end, unable to shake me, she got the baby’s shots done and returned to the hospital room angrily.

Rachel had already been moved to her recovery room and was desperate to see her child.

Karen, covering the baby’s face, tried to shield her daughter from the shock.

“You should rest. The baby is perfectly fine,” she said.

But Rachel still wanted to see the baby, and my brother lost his temper.

“See him for what? Look what you’ve done! You insisted on keeping the baby, even though the doctor told you to terminate the pregnancy!”

Rachel, understanding the implication in his words, burst into tears.

She struggled to get out of bed to see her son.

Karen, seeing how distraught she was, finally brought the baby over.

One look, and it was clear – wide-set eyes, flat nose, thick lips.

There was no doubt – he was a child with Down syndrome.

Rachel couldn’t stop crying.

“Oh God, why would you do this to me? My son was supposed to be healthy! He was fine the whole time he was inside me!”

She begged my brother to go find the doctor, convinced they had given her the wrong baby.

She kept insisting her son couldn’t possibly have Down syndrome.

The doctor looked at them like they were fools.

“This is your child. Didn’t you get any prenatal screenings? All of this could’ve been detected.”

Hearing this, Rachel’s eyes rolled back, and she fainted.

That night, Karen deliberately covered the baby’s face with a blanket, trying to smother him.

I saw Rachel wide awake, watching everything, but she didn’t lift a finger to stop her mother.

How cold-hearted! In my previous life, she had looked at me with the same icy eyes as I fell off the cliff, her gaze as sharp as a knife.

It’s so cruel – when the child was just a fetus, she refused to terminate the pregnancy. But now that he was here, fully formed, she wanted to kill him.

Unbelievable.

I quietly uncovered the baby’s face.

They had sown the seeds, now they’d have to reap the bitter harvest themselves.

Karen glared at me furiously.

“Emma, what are you trying to do? Are you really going to stand by and watch your brother and Rachel live a life of misery?”

Yes, that’s exactly what I planned to do.

This was their own doing.

Thanks to my interference, Karen couldn’t get away with it.

The baby survived and was discharged from the hospital.

As soon as we got home, Rachel tossed the baby on the living room couch and went to sulk in her room.

My brother was so mad at Rachel that he hadn’t come home for days.

Karen kept looking at the baby, sighing non-stop.

“Emma, just get rid of him,” she said.

I picked up the baby and brought him into Rachel’s room, placing him on her bed. I started crying as I said, “Rachel, this is your child! He’s the baby you carried and gave birth to! How can you be so heartless and just throw him away?”

She stammered.

Maybe it was maternal instinct, but even though she didn’t like the child, he was still her own flesh and blood.

“I... I never said I wanted to throw him away.”

I cried harder.

“Karen told me to get rid of him, but I can’t bring myself to do it. Rachel, you have to take care of him. I read online that with enough patience, children like this can grow up to be just like normal kids.”

To reassure her, I even patted my chest and made a promise.

“Rachel, don’t worry. Once I start earning, I’ll give you half of my salary every month to help raise the child.

“I promise, I’ll always help you take care of the baby. He’s a part of our family, after all.”

She was tempted.

She knew that my field of study was high-paying – at least $20,000 a month.

Giving her half would mean $10,000 without her lifting a finger.

She was thrilled at the thought of it.

That’s exactly what I wanted – her to be happy now so she’d decide to keep the baby.

As long as she kept the child, her misery would soon begin.

Sure enough, the baby developed very slowly. Everything he learned was far behind other children.

Even something as simple as feeding took him a long time to grasp.

He cried out in hunger every day, but he just couldn’t figure out how to feed.

Karen didn’t want to see the child and refused to help take care of him.

My brother was the same – constantly frowning and upset.

He blamed my sister-in-law for insisting on having the baby.

Her postpartum period was filled with tears.

She couldn’t sleep at night because the baby cried endlessly.

You could see her growing thinner by the day.

At first, other than feeding, there wasn’t much difficulty.

But as time passed and the baby grew, Rachel’s real nightmare began.

I watched coldly as she cried day after day.

One day, she clung to my arm, sobbing.

“Emma, help me. Let’s send the baby away. I don’t care who takes him – just get rid of him.”

I wiped her tears and replied,

“Rachel, this is your baby – the precious child you carried for ten months. How could you be so heartless?”

Just wait – the hardest days are still ahead.