A loud crash echoed across the winding mountain road.

An old van slammed hard against the guardrail. One of the human traffickers died on the spot, the other seriously injured.

Evelyn Carter threw herself over her son, Jason Brooks, shielding him with her body. But half of her own body got pinned between the driver’s seat and the center console — her breath came in short, shallow gasps.

What now? Someone had to come. Someone had to save them. Save her baby.

Maybe heaven heard her prayers. Just before she blacked out, she thought she heard voices.

“Jason! Jason, where are you?!"

“Mom and Dad are here! Don’t scare Mommy, okay?”

Who…are they?

Blood covered Evelyn's face as she struggled to lift her head.

She saw Henry Brooks running toward them with huge strides. Right behind him, tears streaming down her face, was that woman — the one he never stopped loving — Amelia Green.

Blood kept trickling down Evelyn’s forehead, her vision getting blurrier by the second.

Was she hallucinating before dying?

Why was Amelia calling herself Jason’s mom?

Two days ago, Evelyn received a letter from Henry, mailed from his base. It read:

"Evelyn, we've been married for years, but let's be honest — there’s duty, not love between us.

I’ve known Amelia for over a decade. She was the first woman I ever loved. If you hadn’t insisted on marrying me, I wouldn’t have tied the knot with anyone.

Her husband died saving me. He was like a brother to me. Before he passed, he asked me to take care of her like a widow in the family.

It’s only right that I do.

But you don’t get it. You keep making a fuss just because I brought her to live near the base.

I’ve already filed for a divorce, Evelyn. You’d better get your head straight and sign the papers."

Evelyn had spent those years caring for his ailing parents, even helped nurse Henry back when he almost lost his mobility.

She gave up her medical career to raise their kid and take care of his family.

And yet, in the end, all he gave her was divorce — for his beloved Amelia.

It was because of that letter — because of the heartbreak — she took Jason all the way to find him at the base. But on the way, they were attacked by traffickers. A struggle. A crash.

And this was the mess they ended up in.

The wedding photo and divorce papers fell out of Evelyn’s bag, soaked in blood — a joke written in red ink.

She watched as Henry pried open the mangled car door. He reached inside—

But passed right over her, grabbing Jason from her arms instead.

His whole being focused on Jason, as if Evelyn didn’t even exist.

The moment Jason landed in his dad’s arms, he broke down crying. “Daddy! I was so scared!!”

“Thank God! Jason, you're okay!”

Amelia finally arrived, clutching her chest as she let out a shaky breath.

Tears streamed nonstop down her cheeks. She broke down too, grabbing Jason right out of Henry’s arms while sobbing, “Jason, Mommy was so scared! Thank goodness you're safe!”"You’ll never be with anyone else again, Jason. From now on, Mommy will always be with you — I'm your real mom!"

Henry gave Amelia a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Don’t worry. Evelyn and I are divorcing soon. Once I handle her funeral stuff, we’ll finally be together for real. You’ll be his mom — officially."

Tears streamed down Amelia's cheeks as she kissed Jason’s face again and again, guilt weighing heavy in her eyes. "It’s all my fault. You were so weak when you were born, your asthma nearly killed you. I panicked and switched you with Evelyn’s baby."

"Later on, when things calmed down, your dad and I talked about it. Evelyn's good at medicine — I figured if you stayed with her, she'd help you get better. Looking at you now, so healthy... it makes me really happy, sweetheart."

Evelyn froze, her breath catching.

Wait... what were they saying?

Jason... was Amelia's biological son?

Then where was her child?

Still holding Jason, Amelia hung her head in shame and gave a solemn bow toward Evelyn's "body."

"I’m sorry, Evelyn. I really am. Rest easy now. You’ll be with Noah soon. Jason didn’t mean to push him — it was an accident, I swear."

A rush of memories crashed back into Evelyn’s mind. Blood felt like it was draining from her body.

That night. The night Noah died. New Year’s Eve.

Jason had left with other kids in the yard. He came back late. His face blank when he said, "Noah fell off the slide and died. He was being careless."

Evelyn had gone cold in an instant. That’s when she realized — this kid was terrifyingly numb, no empathy at all.

She dug into Noah’s past, found out Amelia rarely kept the boy near her. Always left him at some distant relative’s place in the countryside.

The women in the compound always whispered: the poor child was skin and bones. He was Jason’s age, but looked like he was several years behind.

When people asked, Amelia would just shrug and say Noah was born unlucky, always sickly.

But now Evelyn understood — it wasn’t some illness. Amelia had done it on purpose. Noah wasn’t hers, so she tossed him aside to suffer.

She even told people Noah was trouble, caused chaos wherever he went.

Come to think of it, Evelyn had never seen Noah in person. Amelia must’ve kept him hidden on purpose.

While Evelyn had poured her heart and soul into Jason — Amelia’s kid — her own son had been abused, neglected...

And killed. By Jason.

All at once, the pain was unbearable. Her insides were shredding apart.

Tears welled, but her eyes stayed locked on the family of three walking off in the distance. Rage drowned out everything else.

Even on the brink of death, she gritted her teeth and forced her trembling body to move. She shoved the corpse of the nearby kidnapper off the driver’s seat. One last breath — that’s all she needed.

Meanwhile, Amelia glanced down at Jason in Henry’s arms, her smile widening. Her baby boy. Her perfect little boy.Henry didn’t spare Evelyn even a glance. Holding the child in his arms and walking with the woman he loved most, he turned and left without hesitation.

Right then, the van's engine suddenly roared to life.

Both Henry and Amelia froze in place.

In sync, they slowly turned their heads—only to see Evelyn gripping the wheel with both hands, foot smashing down on the gas pedal with all her strength.

Her eyes were bloodshot—pure rage taking over.

She wanted them dead.

Wanted to drag them all to hell with her and Noah!

“Boom—!”

A deafening blast.

Amelia’s shrill scream cut through the air.

“Ah—!!”

Henry roared, furious: “Evelyn Carter!! Are you completely crazy?!”

But Evelyn didn’t back off. She slammed the pedal harder and drove straight at Henry, knocking him clean over the guardrail and off the cliff. His legs crumpled under the impact—completely shattered.

Amelia, watching helplessly as the man she loved went down with the child, burst into tears right then and there.

Before she could even cry for help, Evelyn spun the wheel with force—

And sent her flying off the cliff too.

The van sped up, completely out of control, and launched straight over the edge.

Amelia died on the spot.

Covered in blood, Evelyn sat in the wreckage, eyes shut as chaos unfolded around her.

She was furious to the point of madness.

Furious that she’d learned the truth too late—furious she didn’t kill them more than once.

Furious that she failed Noah.

Failed to avenge him properly.

Somehow, the blood-soaked jade pendant around her neck gave off a pale glow.

And when she opened her eyes again…

“Clang!”

The basin in her hands hit the floor.

Evelyn jolted awake, instantly scanning her surroundings.

She found herself standing in a cramped little brick kitchen, no more than five or six square meters wide. A coal stove sat against one wall, with a tin chimney rising up and hooking out through a hole in the roof.

Next to it, stacks of coal briquettes stained the once white wall black.

A pot sat bubbling on the stove—inside was radish and vermicelli stew, with a few rare bits of meat swirling in the reddish broth, completely dyed the same deep hue by the radishes.

Steam drifted upward, disappearing beneath the yellowed lightbulb smeared with grease.

Evelyn turned around.

To the left, a cutting board on a counter with a basin of half-picked greens.

To her right—just clutter, piled chest-high.

The kitchen was shared among several families. Across from her, other cooking stations lined the wall, a few women in red chatting away cheerfully as they made dinner.

This tiny space, barely enough to turn around in, was all she had to herself.

Everything… looked so familiar.

Even the aching back, sore waist, and the stinging chill biting into her hands from the cold water felt exactly the same.

She was back.

It really happened.

Back to New Year’s Eve. Back to the moment before Noah was hurt by Jason.

Back to when tragedy hadn’t struck yet.