Daughter's Death The Real Murderer is My Husband and His Mistress

On Valentine's Day, my husband, in order to have a worry-free date with his mistress, gave our six-year-old child sleeping pills and locked her in the room.

A fire ended the child's life.

The tender cries for help were swallowed by the flames.

Returning from a business trip, I rushed into the blaze without hesitation.

But both my child and I perished in the fire.

After our deaths, my husband took the huge insurance payout and lived happily with his mistress.

The tragic deaths of my daughter and I didn't even warrant a funeral.

When I woke up again, I found myself back on the eve of my husband using a business trip as an excuse to cheat with his mistress.

I thoughtfully placed condoms in his suitcase.

And gently reminded him, "Honey, make sure you come back safely."

1.

My daughter and I died on Valentine's Day.

The mistress called my husband repeatedly.

Anxious to leave, my husband gave the child juice laced with sleeping pills.

When she woke up, the room was ablaze.

The child, awakened by the smoke, cried bitterly.

She tried to run outside but found the door tightly shut.

I had returned early from my business trip to surprise my husband, only to find the house engulfed in flames.

I rushed into the fire, trying to save my child.

The raging flames gave us no chance of survival.

The fire devoured my skin inch by inch.

I watched helplessly as my lively, adorable child cried and screamed in the fire, her body charred beyond recognition.

I didn't understand.

We had known each other for ten years, been married for seven.

All these years, I took care of him meticulously, was respectful and filial to his parents.

Our child was well-behaved and sensible.

Yet he chose to spend Valentine's Day with another woman.

To put the child to death.

Ten years of dedication and a child connected by blood.

He couldn't compare with a mistress.

"Mom, I want to go to the beach!"

My child's tender voice echoed in my ears.

The familiar surroundings made me feel like I was dreaming.

I pinched my thigh.

The pain reminded me this wasn't a dream.

I was reborn!

Maybe my tragic death was too much for the heavens to bear, and they granted me another chance.

Not only did I survive, but I also returned to the time just before my husband, using a business trip as a pretext, refused to take our child to the beach.

"Be good, Susan, Dad has to go on a business trip. Next time, I'll take you to the beach."

My husband, was packing while soothing our daughter, who was clamoring to go to the beach.

I came to my senses, feeling sorry for my daughter's disappointed expression.

"Honey, you go ahead. I happen to have some vacation time, so I'll take our daughter to the beach."

Jeremy's business trip wasn't simple.

After this trip, I found a lipstick mark on his shirt.

He explained that it was accidentally left during a social event.

In hindsight, this trip was likely with his mistress.

Hearing my words, the troubled Jeremy beamed, "Having such a considerate and virtuous wife is truly my blessing!"

I sneered inwardly.

Your blessings were yet to come.

Since he praised me for being virtuous, I had to play the part well.

I eagerly helped him pack.

I slipped a box of brand-new condoms into his suitcase.

After doing all this, I thoughtfully reminded him,

"Honey, make sure you come back safely."

Jeremy, delighted, went on his business trip.

I took our daughter to the beach she had longed for.

Seeing her excited face, the softest part of my heart was touched.

Recalling her heart-wrenching cries for help in the previous life, I wished I could cut that man into pieces.