Twelve Red Lights, One Big Red Flag

My girlfriend called me frantically out of the blue, saying her mother's water had broken. She begged me to take them to the hospital.

But I lazily hung up the phone and turned away, buying myself an ice cream bar instead.

In my previous life, her mother had also gone into labor late in life. I had risked everything to rush her to the hospital, running twelve red lights, pushing my car to the limit until the fuel gauge nearly burst.

Yet, despite all that, her mother had lost the baby. Worse still, she turned around and accused me of killing the baby.

My girlfriend had hated me for it, blaming me for her mother's inability to have children again.

That very night, she and her shameless relatives took over my family's house, forcing my parents into such anger and despair that they ended up in the hospital. My company went bankrupt, and as if that weren't enough, I was beaten so severely that both my legs were broken.

In the end, I fell into a deep depression and took my own life.

But when I opened my eyes again, I found myself reborn.

This time, I uncovered the secret her mother had been hiding.

"Matt, please, I'm begging you, save my mom! She's about to go into labor—she's on Archer Street right now!"

On the other end of the line, my girlfriend Lily Parker sounded frantic, her voice tinged with both panic and desperation.

I lazily agreed, barely disguising my disinterest, then turned around and bought myself an ice cream bar.

In the past, I would have been breaking out in a cold sweat by now, my words tumbling over themselves as I reassured her over and over, "Don't worry, I'll handle it."

But this time was different. This time, I had been reborn.

In my previous life, Lily had used the exact same words, telling me her mother, an older woman with a risky pregnancy, was about to give birth.

I had jumped into my Ferrari, pushing it to its limits, speeding down the street like a man possessed. Twelve red lights—each one I tore through without a second thought. Even the wailing sirens of the police behind me couldn't catch up with my determination.

All I wanted was to get her mother to the hospital, no matter the cost. Even when the blood from her labor stained the back seat of my precious car, I didn't care.

But when we arrived at the hospital, the doctor delivered the news: her mother had suffered a miscarriage.

And then, the nightmare began.

In the hospital room, she screamed at me, calling me a murderer. Lily, upon hearing the news, lashed out at me with all the fury she could muster.

That same night, she brought her entire extended family—every shameless relative from her village—and they took over my family's mansion. My parents were so enraged they ended up in the hospital. My company went under soon after.

And me? They beat me until my legs were shattered.

I instinctively glanced down at my legs now, running my hand over them as if to check.

They were fine. Not broken. Not yet.

I was alive again, and this time, things would not go the same way.

After finishing the ice cream, I got into my Ferrari and drove leisurely to Archer Street.

Up ahead, a small crowd had gathered.

I parked the car, got out, and jogged over to where Lily's mother stood, clutching her belly. Her face was pale, and she looked every bit like a woman about to give birth.

"Oh, Madeline, are you okay?" I asked, feigning concern as I crouched down beside her.

"Oh, Matt, why are you here? I'm sorry to trouble you like this," she groaned, holding her belly as if the weight of the world rested on her shoulders.

"It's no trouble at all. Let's get you in the car and head to the hospital," I said with practiced ease, just as I had in my previous life.

I helped her into the car, the movements so familiar it felt like muscle memory. Her weight pressed down heavily on my arms, but I managed to get her settled in the back seat.

The onlookers murmured words of praise, calling me a "good son-in-law," and a "great guy."

Great guy, I thought bitterly. If great guys were rewarded, why did my last life end in utter ruin?

I swallowed my anger and started the engine.

Madeline reclined in the back seat, groaning as though in excruciating pain. "Ah! It hurts so much… Matt, thank you. Thank you so much."

I kept my expression neutral but forced a smile. "Madeline, what are you saying? I'm going to be your son-in-law soon. We're family."

"Oh, Matt, Lily is so lucky to have you!"

I chuckled lightly, responding in kind. But before long, a strange odor began to waft through the car.

It was pungent, a mix of foulness and decay that made my stomach churn.

The cramped space amplified the stench, its sour and acrid notes pressing in from all sides.

This didn't smell like amniotic fluid.

It smelled like… something else.