Reborn The Children I Raised Were My Husband's Affair Babies

On Memorial Day, I'd cooked an entire spread for my husband's family. His younger brother and sister-in-law ate the food, then collapsed and died on the spot.

To keep me out of prison, my husband spent every penny the family had. I worked myself to the bone, got my tubes tied, and devoted everything I had to raising the two children his brother left behind.

Twenty years later, those children had made something of themselves. I, on the other hand, had worked myself into a terminal diagnosis.

In my final moments, gasping for my last breath, I saw my husband with his arms around his sister-in-law the woman who was supposed to be dead kissing her like they'd loved each other all along.

"Catherine Gilbert, that stupid woman, never had a clue. We used her hands to get rid of my brother, that worthless parasite, and then she spent her whole life raising our kids for free."

"She was an only child from the state capital. Now that she's dead, everything she owned is ours. We can finally be a real family out in the open."

The breath caught in my throat. I died choking on my own rage.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day I'd gone with my husband to visit the graves.

This time, I threw down the spatula. I didn't touch the stove. I walked straight out the door and went to get dinner.

But when I came back, my husband's brother and his wife were still lying in a pool of blood.

I opened my eyes, and that final breath was still trapped in my chest, burning its way up my throat.

Above me, the soot-blackened ceiling beams of my in-laws' kitchen came into focus. The flame on the stove hissed and crackled.

This was twenty years ago. The day I'd come back to the countryside with my husband for Memorial Day. I was in the middle of cooking the holiday feast for his family.

Every scene from before I died played through my mind, and a chill crawled from the soles of my feet to the crown of my skull.

When I was alive, I was the fool who never complained, who did everything she was told. Dead, I was nothing more than a stepping stone to their fortune.

Not this time. Never again.

I slammed the spatula onto the stovetop and turned for the door.

"You ungrateful woman! Have you lost your mind?!"

My mother-in-law, Carmen Finch, started shrieking immediately. My father-in-law, Alden Finch, was right behind her, cursing just as loud.

"City girl thinks she's too good for us! Putting on airs on a day we honor our ancestors do you have no respect for your elders? No respect for this family?"

My husband snapped out of it and chased after me.

"Catherine, stop making a scene. All the relatives are watching. Just go back in and finish cooking."

I turned and looked at him. He hurried to close the distance.

"Mom and Dad are getting old. Chester Finch and his wife are waiting to eat. You walk out like this, what are people going to say about our family?"

"What are they gonna say? That the princess threw a tantrum." Chester's voice dripped with sarcasm. "Looks like my sister-in-law thinks us country folk aren't good enough for her. Figured she'd ruin the whole dinner."

His wife, Elena Lambert, chimed right in. "Just let her go, Andrew Finch. Some people were raised with a silver spoon. You really think she'd lower herself to cook for poor relatives like us?"

I didn't respond to any of them. I walked straight out of the courtyard, flagged down a passing motor rickshaw, and gave the driver the name of a restaurant in town.

The place wasn't crowded. I found a seat by the window and ordered the spiciest thing on the menu.

Twenty years of swallowed grievances, twenty years of thankless sacrifice it all seemed to go down easier with the scalding broth.

I ate slowly. There was no rush. What was meant to happen would happen regardless. I didn't need to suffer for their sake anymore.

When I'd eaten my fill, I paid the bill and walked back toward the Finch house at my own pace.

The sky was nearly dark. Most of the relatives who'd come for the memorial had already left. The only sounds came from somewhere near the courtyard.

I'd barely reached the gate when I heard the screaming raw and shrill.

I pushed the door open. The courtyard was chaos.

Chester and Elena lay flat on the ground in front of the main hall, motionless.

Carmen sat on the ground, slapping her thighs and wailing.

"My boy! My baby boy, how could you just leave me like this!"

Alden stood off to the side, his face drained of all color, trembling from head to foot.

Every pair of eyes in the yard locked onto me.

Carmen scrambled to her feet and lunged at me, hands outstretched, but a few relatives caught her arms and held her back.

She glared at me, eyes bloodshot. "It was you. I know it was you!"

"We said a few words to you and you held a grudge, so you poisoned the food and killed my son and his wife!"

Alden's voice followed right behind hers, a raw, broken roar. "You vicious woman! This family never wronged you. Why would you do something so evil? You're paying for this with your life today!"

Andrew rushed to my side and reached for my arm. I flinched away before he could touch me.

His face was a mask of worry as he turned to the crowd.

"Everyone, please, calm down. Catherine isn't that kind of person. She was upset and went for a walk, that's all. Why would she poison anyone?"

"If not her, then who?" Chester's mother-in-law shoved through the crowd, tears streaming down her face. "We pushed her too far and she stormed out. She even threw the spatula before she left. That's when she made up her mind to kill them!"

"That's right, it was her!" The Finch relatives echoed in unison. "We all saw it. She threw things and walked out, and when she came back, they were dead. If she didn't poison them, who did?"

More and more people filled the yard, villagers drawn by the commotion. They circled around us, pointing, whispering.

"She looks so proper, a girl from the city. How could she be so heartless?"

"Poisoning people on Memorial Day. That's a whole other level of wicked."

"I heard she ran off earlier and left everyone waiting. She must've been furious."

Andrew put on a pained, conflicted expression and clasped his hands toward the crowd.

"Neighbors, I know everyone's upset. Catherine can be a little blunt sometimes, but she would never do something this horrific."

"She was probably just exhausted today, and Mom and Dad pushed her buttons, so she ran off. Please, just give her a chance to explain."

His words sounded like a plea on my behalf, but every sentence steered the crowd toward the same conclusion: that I'd been scolded, held a grudge, and snapped.

I stared at his face, that tender, concerned mask, and my stomach turned.

In my last life, I'd been fooled by that exact look for an entire lifetime. I didn't learn the truth until the moment I died.

Someone carried Chester's two children over. They were so young. The boy was barely five, the girl only three. The chaos had them wailing, their small bodies trembling.

Carmen crouched beside them and hissed in their ears. "Go on, tell everyone. Who killed your mommy and daddy? It was this woman!"

The little boy shook from head to toe, but through his sobs he screamed, "Murderer! You're a murderer!"

The little girl cried after him, her words slurred and broken. "I want Mommy and Daddy! Kill her!"

These children. In my last life, I'd nearly destroyed myself raising them. And they'd grown up to become trophies paraded around by the very people who ruined me.

Now they were still so small, and already being used as weapons.

I opened my mouth to explain, but the words died before they left my lips. No one was listening.

Carmen and Alden kept howling for my life. The relatives egged them on. The villagers' murmuring swelled into a roar, every voice certain I was the poisoner.

"Call the police! Let the cops investigate. They'll prove she did it!"

The shout came from somewhere deep in the crowd.

Andrew stepped forward immediately, blocking the man who'd spoken. "No. Don't call the police."

Pain twisted across his face. "This is a family matter. Chester is already gone. If we get the police involved and blow this up, what happens to the children? How will they ever live this down?"

He turned to me.

"Catherine, I know you didn't mean it. You just lost your head for a moment, right?"

"Just admit it. We'll find a way to handle this quietly. The children are so young. They need someone to depend on."

I looked at him, and a laugh slipped out of me.

He wanted me to confess voluntarily. That way, everything could unfold exactly according to their plan.

I'd rot in prison while they helped themselves to everything I owned my property, my savings all while milking the two children for sympathy and convenience.

But not this time. Not in this life.

I stared at Andrew's face, fighting the urge to lunge at him and tear it apart with my bare hands.

But he was still putting on his little show.

"Catherine, why aren't you saying anything?"

Andrew's eyes were rimmed red, his voice thick with feigned emotion. "I know you're suffering, but someone is dead. You can't just deny it!"

The villagers around us were already whispering, pointing fingers.

"She looks so harmless, but she's rotten inside!"

"Poisoning her own family. That woman's beyond saving."

"People like her deserve the death penalty!"

Their words hit me like spit in the face.

Mrs. Finch was still rolling around on the ground wailing. Mr. Finch Sr. raised his cane, ready to strike me.

The whole scene was pure chaos.

I let out a cold laugh and shook Andrew's hand off my arm.

"Confess to what? I didn't kill anyone."

"Still running your mouth?"

Elena's mother stormed over, face flushed with rage.

"You're the one who threw the spatula! You're the one who drove them out in a fit! The second you left, they ate that food and collapsed! If you didn't poison it, then who did?"

"Exactly!"

Mrs. Finch scrambled to her feet, jabbing a finger at me, her face twisted with hatred. "Nobody set foot in that kitchen except you! If there wasn't poison in that food, I'll eat the damn pot!"

I gave her a sidelong glance.

"You're so eager to eat? Go ahead. The pot's right there in the kitchen. Nobody's stopping you."

My words nearly sent her into cardiac arrest.

She pointed at me, sputtering, eyes rolling back so far she almost fainted on the spot.

Andrew rushed to steady his mother, then turned to look at me. Something vicious flickered behind his eyes.

He clenched his jaw, then walked over to my side.

"Catherine, stop making a scene!"

His voice dropped low, meant only for me.

"The situation is not in your favor. Everyone saw you throwing things, losing your temper. That's motive."

"And the kitchen only has your fingerprints on everything..."

"So what?"

I cut him off before he could finish.

Andrew sighed, wearing his best I'm-only-looking-out-for-you expression.

"I'm trying to help you here. Murder carries a life sentence. They could put you in front of a firing squad!"

"But if you admit it was an accident now say you mixed up rat poison with seasoning, or mistook pesticide for cooking sauce..."

"I've got a buddy at a law firm. He can get the charge reduced to involuntary manslaughter."

The greed in his eyes was impossible to hide now.

"Involuntary manslaughter barely carries any time. With good behavior, you could be out in two or three years!"

"And don't worry. While you're inside, I'll wait for you. I'll take care of everything at home."

"I'll talk to Mom and Dad, smooth things over. I'll raise the kids like they're my own. All you have to do is confess, and this family stays intact!"

He laid it on thick, every word polished and rehearsed.

In my last life, he'd fed me the exact same lines.

Back then, I'd been so terrified I actually believed it was my fault. I'd thrown myself into making amends paying compensation, working myself to the bone to clear the debt, raising those two children as if they were my own flesh and blood.

And where did that get me?

I looked at Andrew, my gaze steady and still, and asked him one question.

"Andrew, do you think I'm stupid?"

He froze. It took him a long moment before he managed a response.

"What did you just say?"

"You want me to take the fall so you can waltz off with my house and my savings."

"Then you'll bring your supposedly dead sister-in-law back from the grave, and the whole happy family can reunite."

I locked my eyes onto his and didn't blink.

The color drained from Andrew's face the instant the words left my mouth.

"You what are you talking about?!"

His voice shook. "Elena is barely hanging on. What do you mean, come back from the dead?"

Just then, the village medic came running over, drenched in sweat.

"It's too late! It's too late!"

"Chester's gone! No pulse, no breath. He's dead!"

"Elena still has a faint heartbeat, but her pulse is barely there. She won't last much longer. We need to get her to the hospital in town, now!"

The courtyard erupted into chaos.

"Murderer! She needs to pay!"

"Grab her! Don't let her get away!"

Several villagers surged forward with rope in their hands.

Old Mr. Finch raised his cane and swung it straight at my head. "I'll kill you myself, you vicious woman! You owe my son his life!"

Andrew didn't stop him this time.

He stood off to the side, watching me with cold, calculating eyes, as if waiting for me to break down and beg.

I sidestepped the cane.

And then

"Police! The police are here!"

Someone shouted from the edge of the crowd.

Several officers pushed through the throng and into the courtyard.

"Officers, arrest this woman!" Mrs. Finch threw herself at them like they were her salvation, clutching at an officer's arm. "This monster poisoned my son and daughter-in-law!"

Andrew stepped forward to meet them too, his face a mask of grief, his words halting and broken.

"Officers, I'm her husband."

"I don't want to believe it, but... it was my wife who cooked the meal."

"She was in a bad mood today. She might have acted on impulse..."

"I never cooked."

My voice cut through his performance like a blade.

The officers hadn't expected a counter-narrative. They began taking statements from both sides, gathering preliminary evidence.

I laid out everything I had done that day, clearly and precisely, leaving nothing out.

"Based on the evidence we have so far, the murder accusation against Catherine Gilbert cannot be substantiated." Captain Seth Chavez's expression was grave.

Andrew and his parents went pale. The villagers erupted again.

"How can you protect a killer?"

"Do you even know how to do your jobs?"

The officers looked uncomfortable under the barrage of accusations.

I knew it was time for me to speak up.

"From the very beginning, all of you have taken the Finch family's word as gospel." I spoke slowly, letting every syllable land. "Has anyone stopped to consider whether their story even makes sense?"

I turned to Andrew. "You just told the officers that only my fingerprints were in the kitchen, correct? And your mother swore that no one set foot in there after I left?"

Andrew's brow furrowed. A flicker of unease crossed his face.

"Obviously! We can all vouch for each other. We were sitting right here in the courtyard the whole time, talking. Why would anyone go into the kitchen?"

He clung to that story like a lifeline.

I stared at him, unblinking. "Then this should be very simple."

I turned to Captain Chavez. "Since he's so certain no one else went in, I'd ask that you seal the kitchen immediately and collect fingerprint and footprint samples right now."

The moment those words left my mouth, Andrew's composure shattered.

Just as I'd suspected.

If I hadn't cooked, and people were still dead, then someone else had gone into that kitchen after me.

I wanted to see just how airtight their little setup really was.

"No!"

Andrew threw his arms wide, blocking my path.

"Catherine, stop fighting this. If you really let the police dig into it, the consequences will be more than you can handle."

"Think about Mom and Dad. Think about this family. Just admit you did it."

"We promise we won't press charges. You have our word."

Every word dripped with false sincerity, like a man begging his wife to sacrifice herself for the greater good.

But I saw him clearly now. Even at this point, he still thought I was a fool.

"Are you done?"

I shot him a look. "Then get lost."

A flash of irritation crossed Andrew's eyes, but he composed himself almost instantly.

He turned and found Captain Chavez.

"I'll admit we don't have evidence, but you can understand how emotions run high in a situation like this." His tone shifted, measured and reasonable. "This could just be food poisoning. And my sister-in-law's condition is getting worse by the minute. I really think we should get her to a hospital first."

Perhaps because a life hung in the balance, Captain Chavez agreed.

But I caught the look in Andrew's eyes. The faintest glint of triumph.

My stomach dropped.

No. I couldn't let this opportunity slip away.

If I didn't pin them down now, they'd destroy the scene. I was sure of it.

My gaze swept the yard, searching, desperate.

Then it landed on something, and everything clicked.

How could I have forgotten?