She touched my slightly protruding belly.
I didn't know how she knew I was pregnant, but as a mother, I only wanted to protect my baby.
Rebecca's strength was surprisingly immense.
She picked up a piece of rebar and smashed it into my lower leg.
With each blow, blood spurted, and I lost the strength to resist.
Then, she cut open my abdomen and forcibly removed my unborn baby.
I used my last ounce of strength to try and reach for the baby, but Rebecca didn't give me a chance.
Like a demon, she raised the rebar and struck my face.
My heart stopped beating. When I next heard a sound, I had become a spirit.
Rebecca covered up all the evidence, crying to the arriving Max.
"I tried to persuade Violet to confess, but she was only interested in money and ran off after injuring my foot…"
Rebecca wove a lie and stepped over my corpse to achieve the happiness she wanted.
Thinking about this, my anger burned.
The murderer who caused my tragic death was now enjoying Max's care.
Hearing Max's words, Rebecca showed a happy smile.
"I'm glad I traded these injuries for you getting rid of that venomous woman. It was worth it.
"So, don't obsess over finding Violet Lyons. Let the past be the past."
Max held Rebecca tighter, his eyes filled with tenderness. "But whenever I hear you say your foot hurts, my heart aches.
"If I ever encounter Violet Lyons again, I'll make sure to break her legs to get justice for you!"
I listened, unable to hold back a tear.
It seemed even after death, the heart still felt pain.
In the days that followed, I was forced to linger around Max and Rebecca like a shadow, watching him tirelessly prepare nutritious meals for her, massage her, and accompany her to prenatal check-ups.
He was so gentle and attentive, his eyes brimming with the joy of becoming a father.
I couldn't help but remember the first time I had a miscarriage.
Weak and heartbroken, I called Max from my hospital bed, hoping he would come to stay with me.
But he was at Rebecca's place, comforting her after a nightmare.
When I tried to express my frustration, Max snapped, "Rebecca's still young. Can't you stop being so dramatic at your age?"
I was only a few days older than Rebecca, but that's the difference between being loved and not.
As I watched them excitedly prepare for their baby's arrival, I couldn't help but touch my flat stomach and feel a bitter ache.