The Mean-mouthed Bestie and The Resentful Neighbor

When my best friend came to visit, we ran into the upstairs neighbors taking their baby for a walk.

Despite my repeated attempts to stop her, she couldn't help but make a rude comment about the baby, suggesting there might be something wrong. This led to a huge scene.

Later, the neighbors' baby was diagnosed with Down syndrome. My best friend disappeared, leaving me to deal with the aftermath.

The neighbors, vindictive and harboring resentment, poisoned my whole family, leading to our deaths.

After my death, I discovered that my best friend had been scheming all along. She live-streamed her fake grief, profiting off our tragedy.

When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back at the moment my friend had come to visit…

It was time to fight fire with fire and make sure these people were locked in conflict with each other, unable to harm anyone else.

"Eve, look at that child. He's obviously abnormal. Does his family know about it?" Rachael Johnson, my best friend, whispered, shaking my arm.

...

I paused, taking in the scene before me.

Had I… been reborn?

I looked at Rachael, and a chill ran down my spine.

In my previous life, Rachael had come to visit. While we were out for a walk, she insisted on telling my upstairs neighbors that something seemed wrong with their several-month-old baby and suggested they should have the baby checked, ignoring my warnings.

The neighbors were upset and argued with her.

Later, when the child was diagnosed with Down syndrome, Rachael had already run back home and cut off contact.

The neighbors relentlessly harassed me and my family, insisting that we had cursed her baby.

They eventually poisoned us, resulting in the deaths of my entire family.

The incident became a sensation online. Rachael seized the opportunity to play the victim, live-streaming her sorrow and making a fortune off our misfortune.

Looking at the woman who was supposed to be my close friend, I suppressed my anger.

"Eve, what's wrong? Why are you daydreaming?" Rachael asked, shaking me again as I didn't respond.

...

"Nothing. What did you just say?"

"I said, do you see that child in the woman's arms? Something seems off. Should we tell them to get a check-up?"

Such topics are usually avoided by families with children.

In my previous life, I was afraid that they would hold a grudge against Rachael, so I kept persuading her not to meddle in other people's business. However, she refused to listen, which led to the tragic death of my family.

"Maybe we shouldn't," I replied casually.

...

"Eve, how can you be so heartless? What if something is really wrong with that child? If I tell them to get a check-up, it could be a good deed!"

Rachael immediately criticized me with dissatisfaction.

"Well, go ahead then," I said, knowing she was determined to cause trouble.

...

She probably expected me to dissuade her again, but when I didn't, she took it as a sign that she was right and that I was embarrassed by her words.

...

So she raised her head and walked over.

I quickly wheeled my son into a hidden corner, pretending we didn't know her.

Rachael recklessly rushed to the neighbors and pointed at the child.

Then she said arrogantly, "Is something wrong with your baby? He looks different from other kids. Maybe you should take him to the hospital for a check-up."

The neighbors' expressions changed instantly.

"What's wrong with you? If you're sick, go see a psychiatrist. I think there's something wrong with you. There is something wrong with your whole family! You're crazy."

The mother of the child cursed at Rachael and seemed like she wanted to hit her.

"You're so ungrateful! I'm trying to help you. If something's really wrong with your child, I could be your savior," Rachael retorted.

She was dissatisfied that her good intentions had been met with ingratitude.

Her words inflamed the mother's anger.

She put her child in the stroller and lunged at Rachael.

The two women started pulling each other's hair and tearing at each other's clothes, completely entangled in a vicious fight.

Rachael, having never fought before, was quickly overwhelmed.

After a while, a lot of scratches appeared on her body and face.

Seeing that Rachael was getting beaten badly, I slowly went to find the security guard to break up the fight.

By the time the security guard separated them, Rachael was sitting on the ground, disheveled and humiliated.

The mother continued to curse at her before walking away with her child.

Rachael turned to see me standing nearby my son's stroller.

She angrily stormed over.

"Evelyn, why didn't you help me? You just stood there and watched me get beaten."

That was just how Rachael was—she caused trouble herself and then blamed others for it.

"I didn't, Rachael. My baby was fussing, so I had to move the stroller to calm him down. By the time I looked back, you were already fighting. I was afraid my baby would get scared, so I quickly went to get the security guard," I explained.

"You… but you still shouldn't have just watched me get beaten."

"I didn't, really. My son is here, so I was too scared to step in. I hurried to get help to drive her away. Are you okay? Should we go to the hospital? If you get scars, that wouldn't be good."

Rachael, though still angry, couldn't argue with my logic and hurried off to check her injuries.