Chapter 3

Mark tried to say something else, but I just walked away, leaving him with my back.

All the way, he kept trying to persuade me to go home, but I ignored him.

Our six years together had already been shattered the moment he accused me of murder in my past life.

Only after receiving a message from Caleb Hayes, my hacker friend from college, did I casually pay and leave.

Mark hadn’t followed me, as expected. He’d stood there, making sure I’d called a cab for home, before calling Brenda.

I saw it all clearly through the rearview mirror.

In my previous life, he’d deliberately sent me home to coordinate with Brenda and frame me.

This time, I was going to watch them play their game.

When I arrived home, just like last time, the kitchen was already exploding. It was perfectly timed to my arrival.

Brenda was hiding behind the door, safe from the blast. But poor Mr. Peterson, once again, lay amidst shattered glass.

Seeing me, Brenda rushed forward, wailing as if I were her savior. “Alice, please! I didn’t mean to kill your father! The gas stove wouldn’t light, and the old man insisted on helping me… Please, save me…”

I calmly pushed her away. “Mom, call the police and an ambulance. Don’t cling to me.”

This time, I had no intention of saving Mr. Peterson.

Brenda’s face was a mask of feigned panic, fearfully insisting it wasn’t intentional.

In my previous life, she’d worn that same wronged expression, adamantly claiming I had deliberately caused the kitchen explosion, wailing hysterically for me to pay for her husband’s life.

If I hadn't seen her smug, triumphant smile, I might have actually believed she was grieving for Mr. Peterson.

Neighbors, drawn by the commotion, arrived and started yelling at me, calling me an evil daughter-in-law.

No one would ever believe a mother-in-law would kill her own husband. The bad one, in their eyes, was always me, the wicked daughter-in-law.

While we waited for the ambulance, Arthur Peterson burst through the crowd, his eyes blazing with fury, as if he wanted to devour me whole.

Arthur had been rebellious since he was young, serving decades in prison for murder. After his release, he never worked, living off Mr. and Mrs. Peterson.

Now that Mr. Peterson was dead, it indirectly cut off his source of income.

He was clearly frantic, roaring at me.

“What happened to my dad? If anything happened to him, I’ll make you pay!”

The terror of being stabbed to death in my previous life washed over me, making my legs weak. “He’s right there. If you block the way any longer, he might actually die.”

Finally, medical personnel pushed through the crowd, quickly lifting Mr. Peterson onto a stretcher and rushing him into the ambulance.

Brenda cried as if her heart had been ripped to shreds, clinging to Arthur, calling him her son. “My son, your sister-in-law is so cruel. All I asked was for her to cook, and she tried to kill both me and your dad! When I ran to save your dad, she grabbed my hair and slammed my head against the door.”

Brenda lifted her bangs, revealing an instant lump on her forehead.

My face was drained of color.

Everyone looked at me as if I were a murderer.

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