Husband Wants to Unplug Mother's Oxygen,Reborn, I Didn't Stop Him

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Egbert stared at me like he couldn't believe it, then dropped to his knees in front of me.

"Sabrina, I know it's not fair of me to ask you to sell your house to save my mom. But can you really stand there and watch her die?"

I looked at Egbert putting on his little performance, my eyes going cold, and pulled him back to his feet.

"Stop trying to get at my money. Why don't you sell yours?"

When I turned him down, his brows twisted up like a knot.

"Is scheming for his wife's money just what men in the Chavez family do?"

Things I could never bring myself to say in my past life, I now said with a clear conscience and not a shred of guilt.

At first I thought the two of them just had their eyes on the property I'd owned before the marriage. Now it hit me that they wanted to swallow my parents' life savings too, because only by killing me could they bleed the whole family dry.

Seeing that I wasn't buying it, Egbert quickly switched tactics.

"If I sell my place, where are we supposed to live? Could you really respect a husband who moved in and lived off his wife?"

Hearing what he really thought, I laughed coldly and asked, "You honestly don't think you've been living off me this whole time?"

He was grinding his teeth so hard they might crack, and he couldn't come up with a single thing to say back. I let my gaze drift elsewhere.

"Don't count on me for your mom's treatment."

He finally lost it and blew up at me. "How can you be this cold-blooded?"

Hearing that, I didn't even bother to keep up the act.

"She's your own mother. Save her or don't, that's up to you."

I said it and turned to walk away, giving him no chance to keep working me over.

"Fine. I'll go sell the house right now. Happy?"

Egbert threw out the threat, and when he saw I still didn't look back,

he turned to Clifford, resigned. "I'll go raise the money. Dr. Armstrong, could you please move her to a regular ward for now?"

"Do you understand what moving her to a regular ward means?"

"Even if you push me to the wall, I don't have the money, do I?"

I knew every word of this was meant for my ears, but I couldn't be bothered to respond. I'd seen plenty of these sob-story acts in my last life. These days it didn't stir the smallest ripple in me.

"How did she treat you after we got married?"

The woman I am now wasn't about to be fooled by appearances again.

In my past life my mother-in-law seemed easygoing and loving, right up until I was scalded by hot oil, and then her attitude flipped. She kept coaxing me with cheap, sweet talk, never once mentioned taking me to a hospital, and fobbed me off with a folk remedy instead.

Her so-called remedy was petroleum jelly. The stuff is cheap and easy to slather on in quantity, and the important part was that it sealed the skin off, so the raw, festering wound rotted faster. That was what caused the severe infection, the thing that shut down every organ in my body.

I looked at Egbert with a cold smile.

"So you're trying to guilt me into repayment? Then as her son, you'd better hurry up and repay her yourself. Wait too long and you'll regret it when it's too late."

Seeing that I wasn't taking the bait, Egbert went downstairs, disappointed.