Reborn, Punk Faked Quake to Slander Me; Belle Crippled Him

I was in the middle of my afternoon nap when everything started shaking.

Maxwell Whitney, one of the temporary workers at the mill, came bursting into my room and grabbed my wrist, trying to drag me out.

Missy, it's an earthquake, run!

I didn't move. In my last life I'd gone running down after him in nothing but a thin undershirt, only to find there was no earthquake at all.

He'd shaken the table and chairs himself to trick me.

So there I was, half-dressed, appearing in front of everyone with him, and my reputation was ruined on the spot.

My fianc called off our engagement, and I was forced to marry him.

After the wedding he smoked and drank, beat me or cursed me whenever the mood took him, and one after another, three babies were lost that way.

In the end, out of despair, I threw myself off the roof.

When I opened my eyes again, a cold smile curved my lips, and I drove my foot straight up into his crotch.

Then I pulled on my coat and shouted toward the door.

"There's a molester in here!"

...........

People came crowding in at the sound of me, and I burst into tears, my eyes red.

"Maxwell Whitney forced his way into my room and tried to have his way with me. Lucky I reacted fast and got out."

Timothy Lambert from downstairs is a warmhearted old man. His face went grim the second he heard. "Don't worry, Missy. We'll see justice done for you."

"I'll go get the mill's security team right now and have them haul him in on an indecent assault charge."

The others chimed in. "That's right, I'll go fetch the security team this minute."

"He's got to be charged with indecent assault."

"She's lying, don't believe her, she's the one who came on to me!"

Maxwell came hunched down the stairs, gripping the railing, one hand cupped over the spot, his face twisted in pain.

He jabbed a finger at me, seething. "Melissa Pruitt threw herself at me and it didn't work, so now she's framing me on purpose."

"You liar. I have my own fianc. Why would I ever come on to you?"

Maxwell's expression flipped, ugly and leering, and he pointed at me. "How would I know? Who's to say you're not just loose, the kind who likes chasing after men?"

I laughed coldly and looked at him with contempt. "Maxwell Whitney, why don't you take a good look at yourself. I'm a full-time staff worker at the textile mill, with assigned housing, and my fianc is full-time staff too. You're a temporary worker with nothing to your name. Would I have to have my brain crushed in a door to come on to you?"

The more I said, the hotter I got. I spat on the floor, all the rage bottled up from my last life pouring out of me. "You've got no looks, no job, and your pockets are cleaner than your face. I'm the mill's acknowledged beauty. What, was I blind?"

His face flushed red under the barrage. He'd never expected someone as thin-skinned as me to spit out words this cutting.

For a moment he just stood there stunned, unable to force out a single word.

But then, he had no idea about the hell I'd lived through in my last life.

Maxwell Whitney was a lazy, greedy man. In my last life he'd set his sights on me, figuring I was soft-tempered and easy to handle, someone who'd support him after marriage, so he was always finding excuses to hang around me.

Later he'd even snuck into my room and staged this whole scene. I was thin-skinned, and he'd dragged me downstairs before I even realized I'd been tricked.

Face burning, I'd tried to explain, and he'd yanked me into his arms and announced that we'd already been intimate, that what just happened was only us fooling around.

Everyone had looked at me like I was some loose woman.

I'd cried the whole time, too mortified to get out a single word of explanation, right up until my fianc Jasper Simmons came to break off the engagement.

My name was ruined, and all I could do was rush into marrying him.

This life, I would never repeat that mistake.

"You... you did come on to me. You said Jasper Simmons was too dull and honest, no sense of fun, that you didn't like him, so you lured me over."

"And the second we started getting close, you told me to buy you a gold necklace. When I said no, you decided to get back at me and started screaming."

His nonsense left my head spinning. "That's all made up. What proof do you have?"

A smug look crept across Maxwell's face. "Of course I have proof."

Then he pulled a letter out from inside his shirt.

"This is a love poem Melissa wrote for me, in her own hand."

Maxwell unfolded the envelope, and my face froze.

The poem was mine, all right. My signature was even at the bottom. But it hadn't been written for him. How did he have it?

Seeing my expression, the corner of his mouth curled with satisfaction. "You believe me now, don't you? Melissa seduced me. I'll tell you all right now, we've been together plenty of times already."

Some of my coworkers were here, and when they saw the handwriting, they froze too.

"Missy, this really is your handwriting on the letter. Is there actually something between you and him?"

The moment those words were out, even the people who'd been on my side started to look doubtful.

"Maxwell's got it all down to the last detail, and he's got proof. Doesn't look fake to me."

"Maybe Melissa really is two-faced, engaged to someone and still tangled up with this Maxwell."

Seeing the crowd swing to his side, Maxwell grew more smug by the second. He grabbed my arm, gloating. "You can admit it now."

"It's all out in the open anyway, so let's go register the marriage."

Memories of my last life came flooding back. Back then, for the sake of my reputation, I gave in and registered the marriage with him.

Because my name was ruined, the university recommendation slot that should have been mine went to someone else.

After the wedding he moved into my home, quit even his temporary job, and lived off me every day, eating and drinking on my dime. The moment my pay came in, he'd snatch it to spend on liquor and meals.

Later I couldn't hold back and fought with him, and all it earned me was a savage beating.

He beat three pregnancies out of me, one after another. I lost all hope in living, and in the end I jumped from the building and ended my own life.

I flung his hand off in disgust. "What are you talking about? Yes, I wrote this letter, but it was never written for you."

Maxwell sneered. "Not for me? Then how did it end up on me? I think you've just been caught, and now you don't dare own up to what you really are."

"But it doesn't matter whether you admit it. Everyone here has eyes, everyone can see the handwriting is yours, and the letter's in my hand. If you didn't give it to me, where could it have come from?"

Timothy grabbed his broom and started whacking him with it. "Missy's lived alongside us for years now. I don't believe she's that kind of girl, no matter what. I say you stole that letter."

Struck by the broom, Maxwell went red with fury and jabbed a finger at Timothy, sneering.

"Melissa, I didn't know you had this in you. Even an old man this ancient, and you found a way to get him talking for you."

"I wonder if you've got something going with him too."

Timothy's face went gray with rage. Shaking with shame and anger, he pointed at Maxwell for a long moment before he could force out a few words. "You liar..."

I stepped forward and looked Maxwell dead in the eye. "You say I wrote this letter for you. Then tell me, when did I write it? And when did I hand it to you?"

His eyes darted to the side. "Of course I remember that. You wrote it for me back when you and I were together."

"When!"

"Last month, I think. That day, right in your room, you gave it to me yourself. You even told me not to forget you."

I sneered and pointed at the letter.

"You're lying."

"The first line of this letter is, The crabapple by the door has finally bloomed."

"So what?"

I sneered, shaking my head at this ignorant man. "Crabapples bloom in April. That means this letter was written in April. It's August now."

"If I really wrote it for you, how could you get the date so wrong?"

A flicker of guilt crossed his eyes. "That... so I misremembered, is that a crime?"

I opened my mouth, about to speak again, when my fianc Jasper Simmons suddenly came charging in from across the way, furious, and slapped me across the face.

"Melissa, look at what you've done."

"I never thought a woman who was already engaged to me could be this shameless. If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I would never have believed you were this kind of person."

"Since you've got something going with a man like that, then we're done. I'm calling off the engagement."

In my last life, when this happened, he said the exact same thing. He wanted to break it off, and I was so terrified I couldn't get out a single word to explain myself.

Later he married someone else, and I spent the rest of that life drowning in regret.

This time I was going to make it clear. My eyes stung and reddened. "Jasper, listen to me. This is all his setup, he's framing me."

"He's wanted to get close to me at the mill for a while. This time he broke my lock and got into my room, then pretended there was an earthquake so he could drag me out while I was napping and make it look bad in front of everyone."

"I exposed him, and when that shamed him he got angry and started making up lies about me."

"And this letter, you know perfectly well I never wrote it to him."

I took the letter and held it out right in front of him, my eyes locked on his. "I wrote this letter to you back then. Now tell everyone the truth. It's nothing like what he's saying."

Something guilty flickered through Jasper's eyes, and he looked away.

My stomach dropped. A bad feeling rose up in me all at once.

Sure enough, his next words denied the letter outright. "Melissa, I have no idea what you're talking about. When did you ever write me a letter like this? I've never seen it before."

Sure enough, he denied it.

I'd been puzzling over how this letter, which I'd clearly written to Jasper, something that private, could ever have ended up in Maxwell's hands.

So Jasper had a hand in this too. He'd been part of everything today.

I'd been such a fool. It took living a whole life over again to see this shameless, contemptible side of him.

Maxwell's mouth curved into a cold sneer. "I already said I just got the date wrong."

"You keep claiming it was written for Jasper, and now he's denied it himself. You've got nothing left to say, do you?"

"Melissa, stop struggling. You'll only humiliate yourself more."

The crowd was giving me that same look from my last life, the one they'd give something filthy, muttering among themselves.

"I actually half believed Melissa before, but now that Jasper's denied it outright, it really does look like there's something between her and this Maxwell."

"Right. If she were being wronged, why would Jasper come storming in to break off the engagement?"

"Guess she's all innocence on the surface and running wild behind everyone's backs."

One ugly comment after another.

Even Timothy Lambert, who'd been speaking up for me, took a step back.

I watched all of it without any expression, then fixed my eyes on Jasper and didn't let go.

"You're the one who handed this letter to Maxwell, aren't you? When did the two of you start working together?"

"What did I ever do to you, for you to ruin my name like this?"

Guilt flickered through Jasper's eyes. "What are you talking about? Just because I won't lie for you, now you're slandering me too?"

"You did the dirty thing, so own it yourself. Don't try to drag me down with you. I don't even know Maxwell, so how could I possibly be working with him?"

I'd known he would refuse to admit it. My mouth curved. "If you're not working with him, then why won't you admit this letter was the one I wrote to you back then?"

I pointed at the letter and went on. "This letter is an acrostic. Read the last line of each verse down the side, and you'll know exactly who it was written for."

Jasper went white in an instant, staggering so badly he nearly lost his footing.

The people standing closest read it straight out.

"Melissa Pruitt and Jasper Simmons together forever."

"So the letter really was written for Jasper, not Maxwell. Maxwell accused her for nothing."

"Then why did Jasper deny it just now? Why did he say he'd never seen this letter?"

Everyone's suspicious eyes swung to Jasper. Under the weight of them his gaze went shaky. His mouth opened and closed. "You wrote me so many letters. How was I supposed to remember this one too? I got it mixed up."

"But even if you didn't write this one for Maxwell, that still doesn't prove there was nothing between you two."

Maxwell yanked me toward him. "Fine, so I was wrong about the letter. I've still got proof."

His eyes crawled over my body.

"She's got a dark mole on her lower back. That's my favorite spot when we're fooling around. One touch and she blushes."

"Nobody believes me, go on, ask her. Ask if there's a dark mole on her lower back or not."

The crowd sucked in a breath.

"Something that private, and he's saying it like he's dead sure. Could it be true?"

"If Melissa really does have a dark mole on her lower back, then it's real, isn't it? You can't lie your way out of that. Somewhere that private, who'd know except the person she shares a bed with?"

"What is going on? She's writing love poems to Jasper and messing around with Maxwell at the same time?"

I stared at Jasper in disbelief, my eyes burning red. "You're really this shameless? You told him about the mole on my back?"

Jasper's answer was a slap across my face. "You're the one who can't keep your legs shut, and now you're dragging this out to frame me. Since when did I know anything about a mole on your back?"

Maxwell ripped my shirt up, baring the mole on my waist. "Everyone see it? That's the mole right there."

"You tell me, if there was nothing between us, how would I know something this hidden?"

Furious, I shoved him off and slapped him, clutching my clothes tight against me.

"Maxwell, you're disgusting!"

He sneered and fisted a hand in my hair. "Slut, quit the act. Upstairs just now you were letting me kiss that mole. Playing innocent now?"

"You're mine already anyway. Come on, back upstairs, we've got business to finish."

He started dragging me toward the stairs.

I looked to Jasper, pleading. "Jasper, help me."

Jasper spat at me. "Playing the chaste widow now? Weren't you two already carrying on long ago?"

I turned my eyes to Timothy. "Timothy, help me. It isn't what it looks like."

He'd just started to speak when someone beside him held him back. "A woman like that isn't worth helping. Don't go sticking your nose in and drag the filth onto yourself."

I clung to the railing and wouldn't let go. He slapped me across the face, again and again. "Slut, let go now, or I'll strip you right here."

I sobbed no, but he reached out and started tearing at my clothes.

"Stop. What do you think you're doing?"