The Scheme of My Husband's Death

I sat on the shoe bench by the entrance, watching Leo Lincoln bend down to change his shoes. He was wearing the handmade leather shoes I gave him on my birthday last year; the tips were polished to a brilliant shine. "Penny, I'm going downstairs to get a package," he stood up, reaching out to stroke my hair, his tone so tender it could squeeze out water. "I've prepared a birthday surprise for you. Stay home and wait for me." My fingertips turned ice-cold instantly. Those words, like a rusty blade, unexpectedly pierced the scarred wound I thought had long healed. On this very day in my past life, he said the exact same thing. He rubbed my hair just the same way, his eyes filled with the tenderness I once mistook for 'love.' But what I received was no surprise—him falling from the rooftop, an overwhelming storm of cyberbullying, years of depression, and, at last, when I swallowed the pills, the memory of him and Linda standing by the bed, grinning triumphantly. I closed my eyes briefly, and when I opened them again, the trembling in my gaze had already been stifled. "I'll go with you," I stood up, casually grabbing the jacket from the sofa. "I was just thinking of going downstairs for a walk; staying cooped up at home feels suffocating." Leo Lincoln's movement clearly faltered. His hand hanging by his side clenched almost imperceptibly; when he looked up again, there was a faint trace of panic beneath his smile. "No need," he stepped back half a pace, avoiding the hand I reached out. "There are usually a lot of people at the delivery point. I'll be back soon. You can't see the surprise ahead of time." I no longer tried to hold on. His reaction confirmed the suspicion I'd harbored all along—that this 'surprise' was a carefully planned deception from the very start. How could I have missed it in my past life? I failed to notice the flicker of avoidance in his eyes whenever he mentioned a 'surprise,' failed to notice he'd been secretly making calls on the balcony lately, and failed to notice the strange, triumphant glint in Linda's eyes when she looked at me. I watched Leo Lincoln's back vanish into the elevator, then turned and hurried to the living room, picked up my mobile phone, and checked the messages. The pinned contact was 'Mr. Clark.' Mr. Clark is a veteran who worked alongside my father for over a decade. After my father passed away, he has been managing the household affairs and remains steadfastly loyal to me. I typed swiftly: "Mr. Clark, please help me check on two things. First, where is Leo Lincoln now, and whom has he met?"Second, look into the whereabouts of the nanny, Linda, especially if she has been to the hospital recently." No more than a few seconds after I sent the message, Mr. Clark replied: "Miss, rest assured—I'll have someone investigate immediately, and I'll inform you as soon as there's any news." I set down my phone, walked to the bathroom, and stared at my reflection in the mirror. My face was still a little pale, and the dark circles under my eyes hadn't fully faded—the shadows of my past life were not something rebirth could instantly erase. I opened the drawer of the vanity and took out a face mask, pressing it onto my skin. The icy sensation against my skin helped clear some of the turmoil in my mind. In my past life, I had rushed desperately to the rooftop, where he publicly smeared me in front of everyone—accusing me of domestic violence, cold violence, and infidelity; claiming I forced him to kneel and made him watch videos of me with other men. I was utterly panicked, only wanting him not to jump, so I painfully admitted to those baseless accusations. But the moment I confessed, he jumped. The crowd downstairs screamed, phone cameras focused on me, and the bullet screen was flooded with words like "viper woman" and "go die." Later, I was cyberbullied so relentlessly that I no longer dared leave the house; the locks on my door were splattered with red paint, and every day rotten vegetable leaves and eggs were piled at my doorstep. Linda was my only "hope" at the time; I asked her to help clear my name, but she posted a long article online, claiming she had witnessed me abusing Leo Lincoln and that I called her a "lower-class person from the countryside." I completely broke down, relying on antidepressants just to fall asleep each night, and in the end, I swallowed an entire bottle of sleeping pills. In my final moments, I saw Leo Lincoln holding Linda by the bedside, and Linda's belly was already beginning to show. "Penny Scott, you're finally dead," Leo Lincoln said with a triumphant smile. "Your money, your company—they're all mine now." At that moment, I didn't even have the strength to raise my hand; I could only keep my eyes open, watching their faces before closing them with a heart full of bitterness and rage. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to today—that day he went to fetch the 'surprise.'