Who Is Her Victim

I looked into the room.

The window was wide open, and the cold wind came rushing in.

Lana’s classmates huddled by the bed, too scared to say a word.

They were already in elementary school.

How could they not know this was dangerous?

David tried to reason with me.

“Lana already admitted her mistake. Honey, you’ve vented enough. Let’s just bury the baby.”

I found it absurd.

A life was gone, and all she had to do was say she was sorry?

Nancy rushed up and wrapped her arms around Lana. Stroking her face with heartache, she muttered, “You hit her so hard. Look, her face is swollen up.”

Her face was only swollen from a slap.

But that baby had lost their entire life.

I shoved Nancy away, grabbed Lana by the hair, and dragged her toward the window.

“Didn’t you say you didn’t know what would happen if someone fell? Why don’t you try it yourself?”

Lana burst into tears, struggling as she cried, “No! I don’t want to! I’ll die if I fall! You’ll go to jail if you kill me! You’ll go to jail!”

So she did know people could go to jail.

And she did it anyway.

In both lifetimes, I could never understand how a child’s heart could be this cruel.

Pain shot through my arm.

David yanked me away, and the force sent my head slamming into the wall.

Warm blood trickled down the wall.

David stood protectively in front of Lana, his face full of disgust.

“Are you done yet? Our son is already dead. Why are you taking it out on a child? Maybe you should have watched him better.”

He and Nancy both stood in front of Lana, guarding her from me.

In my last life, I had already figured it out.

They were the real family, bound by blood.

My three-month-old son and I meant nothing.

I pressed a hand to my forehead, trembling as I took out my phone to call the police.

But my husband kicked it out of my hand.

“This is a family matter. Why are you calling the police?

“Lana isn’t even eighteen yet. Calling the police won’t do anything.”

I braced myself against the wall and stood up, looking at him in utter disappointment.

“The one who died is your son. And you still won’t do anything?”

When he saw the blood on my forehead, a flicker of guilt crossed his eyes.

“Nina, we can have another child.

“But I only have one niece.”