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The searing pain slammed into me, horrifyingly familiar, as I gasped awake in the birthing suite of my sprawling Texas estate. This was it: the day my first child was due, the very day my entire world spiraled into a nightmare in my last life. I remembered every agonizing detail: my mother, Eleanor, abandoning me in labor, leaving for my stepsister Brittany's lavish birthday party, then her monstrous rage, blaming me for Brittany's death. I remembered the poisoned christening, my husband Ethan collapsing, our baby lifeless, then Eleanor dragging me to Brittany's grave, her hands tightening around my throat, murdering me. Now, reborn, I realized the chilling truth: Eleanor was reborn too, and already, her creature, Nurse Gretchen, stood over me, determined to repeat history, actively trying to force my crowning baby back inside me. The pain was unbearable, the betrayal absolute, as I screamed, knowing she meant to murder my child before its first breath, just like before, all for a twisted obsession with her adopted daughter. How could my own mother be so utterly, undeniably evil, to repeat such a heinous act against her own flesh and blood, attempting to erase my family once more? Just as despair threatened to consume me, a familiar, powerful presence erupted into the room: Ethan, my husband, his eyes blazing with a fierce, knowing protectiveness that mirrored my own reborn memories. He remembered too. With him by my side, we would no longer be victims; we would confront the depths of Eleanor's cruelty, unravel her darkest secrets, and wage a battle not just for our baby's life, but for the justice denied in a past life.