My husband, Todd Taylor, had passed away.

Honoring his final wishes, I arranged for a sea burial. It wasn't until the anniversary of Todd's death when we gathered to remember him, that his mother, Susan Taylor, found out. Enraged that I hadn't consulted her, she sued me for a million dollars.

After the court ruling, Susan took my young daughter, Kate, to the beach and falsely claimed that Kate had accidentally fallen into the water. My well-managed depression returned with a vengeance, consuming me with grief. It took such a toll that I fell seriously ill and passed away not long after.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back two days before Todd's death.

----

"Barbara, I want to be buried at sea when I die," Todd said.

His words startled me, and I nicked my finger with the knife I was holding. The sharp pain jolted me back to reality—I had somehow traveled back in time to two days before Todd's death.

"Mom, you're bleeding," Kate's concerned voice broke through my daze. I looked down and saw her little face, full of worry.

I pulled her into a tight hug. She was alive, warm. Thank goodness!

Tears streamed down my face.

"Mom, it hurts so much that you're crying," Kate said softly.

I kissed her gently; these were tears of relief and joy.

The last time I saw Kate in my previous life, she was in the funeral home. Her body had swollen from being in the water, making her nearly unrecognizable. Susan had told me that Kate had fallen into the sea, and I had believed her.

Losing Kate had shattered me. My depression worsened, and one morning, I was diagnosed with a severe illness. I died soon after.

Only after my death did I learn the truth—Susan had murdered Kate. She had taken Kate to the beach and held her underwater. My sweet little girl had called out for her grandma, but Susan had ignored her cries. The thought of it was unbearable.

I hugged Kate even tighter, vowing to protect her this time.

I went to the nurse for some iodine to tend to my cut. When I returned, Todd brought up the burial again.

"Barbara, I want to be buried in the North Sea."

I froze. He had said the exact same thing in my previous life. Back then, doctors had told Todd he didn't have much time. When he expressed his wish, I had gone to great lengths to fulfill it, managing to arrange the sea burial after his death.

Later, I learned that Todd wanted to be buried in the North Sea because his first love had died there, and he wanted to be with her.

The following year, on the anniversary of Todd's death, Susan found out about the burial. She blamed me for not consulting her and took me to court, demanding a million dollars for emotional distress.

The court ruled in Susan's favor but only awarded her $20,000 in damages. Unsatisfied, Susan picked up Kate from school one day, and that's when the tragedy occurred.

With the lessons from my past life, I was determined not to let Susan harm Kate again.

I agreed to Todd's request in front of him, but as soon as I left the hospital room, I called Susan.

"Hello? Todd's not going to make it. You should come see him," I said.

I hesitated to tell Todd's mom, Susan, just how bad things had gotten. She had high blood pressure and was getting older, and Todd specifically told me to keep her in the dark as long as I could. We managed to keep it from her for over six months before we couldn't hide it anymore.

Right after breaking the news, I took our daughter, Kate, to my mom's. She was just a little girl—too young to grasp the concept of death. And I knew Susan would come in like a storm. The last thing I wanted was for Kate to be caught in the middle of that drama. It would only traumatize her. Besides, the thought of Susan around Kate made my skin crawl—after everything that had happened in my past life, I couldn't let them be together.

After I dropped Kate off, I headed back to the hospital, and just as I expected, Susan was already there with Todd's older brother, Sam. In the room, Susan was holding Todd's hand, crying loudly. The moment she saw me, she cranked up the volume. "Oh, my poor son! You've had such a rough life, and now you're dying without even a son to carry on your name!"

Susan's voice was strong and steady—she was far from the delicate flower she pretended to be. She'd always been obsessed with having a boy in the family. The day Kate was born, Susan saw she was a girl, turned on her heel, and walked out. She didn't even bother showing up for any of Kate's birthday parties. Todd and I were doing way better than Sam and his wife, but Susan still chose to live with them because they had sons.

Todd tried over and over to convince her to live with us, but she refused every time.

"And now, when you're gone, only Ryan will be there to take care of things," Susan moaned, gesturing toward a pudgy kid standing by her side.

That was Ryan, Sam's youngest. Susan dragged him everywhere, pampering him like he was royalty. Spoiled and always glued to his video games, Ryan barely looked up when Susan pulled him closer to Todd's bed.

"If Ryan's going to be the one doing the honors, why don't we make it official and have him adopted as your son?" Sam said, not even pretending to soften the blow. "But Todd, just remember, he's gonna need a piece of your estate. It's only fair."

I couldn't believe the audacity. They were talking about Todd's money right in front of him like he was already gone. Sam had been circling Todd's assets ever since he got sick, even coming to me once and saying Susan deserved a share of the inheritance.

The truth was, Todd's illness had drained us. He'd been too sick to work, and every cent we had went into his care. Sam didn't believe me when I told him we were struggling, and it caused one ugly fight after another.

When I finally got home after that disaster of a visit, there was a legal notice waiting for me—Susan was suing me for not consulting her about Todd's sea burial and demanding money for her so-called emotional distress.

The $20,000 the court ordered me to pay Susan was all I had left. After that, things got really tough for Kate and me. I had to pick up a part-time job just to keep us going, and that's when Susan found her moment to pounce.

It wasn't until after I died that I discovered the horrifying truth—Susan had deliberately killed Kate. She thought I had hidden money somewhere, and even if I didn't, there was still the house. If Kate and I were both out of the picture, she figured she'd get it all, and then pass it down to Sam's kids. The thought of it sent chills down my spine.

"Todd, just make a will and leave everything to Ryan," Susan kept pushing, relentlessly.

Todd's face grew even paler, and he coughed softly. "Mom, I don't want a traditional funeral. I want a sea burial."

"A sea burial? Absolutely not!" Susan's voice shot up. "If you're buried at sea, where am I supposed to visit you, to grieve, to bring you offerings?"

Todd glanced at me, his lips pressed tight, his eyes pleading silently. But I looked away, pretending not to catch on, and leaned in. "Todd, maybe you should just listen to your mom. We don't do sea burials. Maybe it's best to just go along with what she wants."

Todd stared at me, shocked. I'd been supportive through everything, never once going against him. This was the first time I'd disagreed.

When he saw no one was willing to give in, Todd shut his eyes and sighed. "Mom, I'm tired. You guys should leave."

Susan tried to get in another word, but Todd didn't budge, keeping his eyes shut tight. With no other choice, she grabbed Ryan's hand and left with Sam.

We all walked out, one after the other. Sam pulled me aside, lowering his voice. "Barbara, Todd's not got much time left—maybe a couple of days. You need to talk to him. We should get Ryan officially adopted by you two now, so he has a reason to handle the funeral."

I hesitated, feigning uncertainty. "Sam, I want Todd to have a proper send-off too, but I really don't think this is the way to go."

Sam frowned, clearly frustrated.

I went on, "It's not that I'm against adopting Ryan. But, you probably don't realize this—we've spent everything on Todd's treatment. We even mortgaged the house and racked up a lot of debt. If Ryan gets adopted, he's not getting any inheritance, just a heap of debt. It's really not worth it."

Sam's face darkened, and he dropped the subject for good.

As I walked Susan out of the hospital, I tried once more. "Todd's been wanting this sea burial for a while. He's in such bad shape now… maybe we should just honor his wish."

Susan gave me a sharp look. "You young people only think of what's convenient for you. Tossing him in the ocean might be easy for you, but back home, we'll be a laughingstock. This is non-negotiable."

With Susan so dead set against it, I knew there was no point in pushing further. I had no intention of letting history repeat itself.

After seeing them off, I turned back and headed into Todd's hospital room. The moment I opened the door, a plastic cup flew past my face.

"What on earth is your problem?" I snapped.

"Barbara, what were you thinking? I told you not to call my mom!" Todd struggled to sit up, his face twisted in pain. "She's too old to handle this kind of news."

It didn't look like she was struggling. Susan had no trouble lifting her nearly forty-pound grandson into the car. She didn't seem frail at all.

I picked up the cup, trying to keep my frustration in check. "This is a huge deal, Todd. I can't make these decisions alone. If I don't tell your family and something goes wrong, they'll blame me. Besides, your mom needs to handle this."

My words must have sounded harsh, because Todd just stared at me, shocked. Then he started coughing uncontrollably, each cough sounding like it might split his lungs.

"So that's all I am to you—just a burden."

I shook my head. "If that's how you feel, there's nothing more I can do."

In my previous life, I never saw Todd as a burden, which only led to more problems for me. Today made it clear—Todd wasn't worried about his mom's distress; he just didn't want her blocking his wishes.

I set up the cot I'd gotten used to sleeping on, poured out his medication, and watched him take it, all while saying, "Don't worry. Your mom promised to give you a grand farewell."

"I don't want that. I want a sea burial," Todd insisted, pounding his hand on the bed.

"There's nothing I can do about that," I replied, trying to stay calm. "Your mom's in charge."

Todd was so angry after that, he didn't speak to me at all.

The next morning, he demanded to be discharged. I tried to talk him out of it, but Todd wouldn't budge. Given that he had less than two days left, I reluctantly agreed.

After a grueling day of paperwork and arrangements, I finally got him home. Exhausted, I collapsed onto the bed and fell asleep instantly.

In my dreams, I heard someone calling my name. I wanted to answer, but my eyelids felt like they were made of lead.

In the middle of the night, the phone rang, jolting me awake. It was the police. They told me Todd had jumped into the sea.

Todd got his wish in the end—he died at sea. His body was quickly swept away, and the police were able to contact me only because he left a suicide note. In it, he stated that he had ended his life on his own terms, with no coercion from anyone, including the hospital or me. His sole wish was to die at sea, and he specifically requested that his body not be recovered.

Reading the note, I felt no sorrow. If I didn't know it was for his first love, I might have been devastated.

Susan and Sam rushed over from the countryside. The moment Susan saw me, she raised her hand as if to slap me.