1: 1

On the first day of boot-camp orientation training, my cramps got so bad I couldn't stand. I asked my boyfriend, the instructor, for leave. He called me a drama queen in front of everyone. So I turned around, went to the hospital, and had my uterus removed.

In my last life, the whole class could hear the inner voice of my boyfriend's childhood sweetheart.

My cramps were so bad my whole body was shaking, and I asked my boyfriend for leave.

His childhood sweetheart shook her head and sighed.

"Barbara Swanson's just using the fact that the instructor is her boyfriend so she can slack off."

The next second, my boyfriend looked at me coldly.

"So many girls in this class, and you're the only drama queen. If your body's weak, then train harder. Everyone runs another ten kilometers."

And so the whole class froze me out.

Nine months later, during class, I had a sudden allergic reaction and went back to the dorm to take medicine.

Half an hour later, the dorm door was pushed open. My boyfriend's childhood sweetheart stared at me, wrestling with something in her head before she spoke.

"Should I really tell everyone that Barbara came back to the dorm to secretly give birth in the bathroom?"

The other two roommates pushed the bathroom door open, and there on the floor lay a Black baby, its neck covered in dark bruises where it had been strangled, no longer breathing.

Everyone decided that I had given birth to the baby and strangled it.

My boyfriend slapped me across the face too.

"Cheating on me behind my back is one thing, but you actually killed your own child. You're vicious."

I tried and tried to explain. No one believed me. The school expelled me, and everyone screamed at me that I was a murderer.

In my daze, I fell down the stairs and died.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the orientation training.

……

"Barbara's just using the fact that the instructor is her boyfriend to ask for leave on purpose so she can slack off."

Hearing that voice, I looked at the familiar surroundings around me, and my head snapped toward Janet Swanson. She hadn't said a word. In that instant I understood: I had been reborn, and I could hear Gay Donaldson's thoughts.

The next second, my boyfriend Byron Farley yanked me up and smacked his hand down on my arm.

"Barbara, so many students in this class, and you're the only drama queen, aren't you? If your body's weak, then train harder. The whole class runs another ten kilometers with you."

The moment he said it, the whole class started complaining at once.

"Instructor, this is Barbara's problem alone. Why should the rest of us get punished with her?"

"Why are we being punished? We weren't trying to slack off."

Byron spoke coldly.

"Because you're a unit. One person's problem is the whole class's problem."

Byron turned to look at me.

"Barbara, even if I'm your boyfriend, I won't indulge this kind of lazy, slippery behavior. Because of you alone, the whole class gets punished. Today you're going to learn this lesson well."

The other students shoved me hard.

"Barbara, aren't you having cramps? Too bad they didn't kill you."

"Happy now? The whole class finally gets a break, and you drag us into running ten kilometers again."

Listening to my classmates cursing at me, I clenched my fists.

In my last life, I asked Byron for leave because of my cramps.

Gay sighed, and in her heart she thought:

"Barbara's just using the fact that the instructor is her boyfriend to slack off on purpose."

When Byron heard it, he snapped at me furiously.

"So many girls in this class, and you're the only drama queen, aren't you? If your body's weak, then train harder. The whole class runs another ten kilometers with you."

Remembering my last life, I pressed a hand tight to my lower belly, crouched down, and looked up at Byron.

"It hurts so much I really can't move. I need leave to go to the infirmary."

But Gay frowned and spoke up.

"Barbara, Byron's an upright, by-the-book kind of guy. Don't put him in a tough spot. We just got punished with ten kilometers. If they add more, we honestly won't be able to run it."

2: 2

Byron let out a cold laugh.

"Barbara, the harder you fake it, the less I'll let you slack off. Everyone runs another three miles with her. If she doesn't finish, none of you gets to rest."

The other students heard that and started cursing at me all over again.

"Barbara, have some shame. It wasn't enough to get us six miles for you, now you're still putting on an act? You really have to drag the whole class down with you?"

"Damn it, how did I end up in the same class as a faker like this. What awful luck."

I kept my head down and worked myself up to it.

"Byron, it was me who wanted to take leave. I'll run it myself. Don't punish the others."

Then I lurched up on purpose. The pain in my stomach flared, my vision went black, and I hit the floor with a thud.

The last second before I passed out, I heard the students scream around me.

When I came to again, I heard the doctor speaking to the advisor and Byron.

"She's anemic and run-down, she's on her period, and she was pushed into strenuous exercise. That's what made her faint."

I forced myself up and out of the bed, and dropped straight to the floor.

The doctor and the advisor rushed over and helped me up.

"Barbara, what do you think you're doing?"

My breath came out thin and weak.

"I have to run the fifteen kilometers. I can't take leave and drag the other students down. Byron, don't punish anyone else. I'll run it myself."

The doctor's voice shot up when he heard that.

"Fifteen kilometers? Are you people out of your minds? Making a girl this weak, with low blood sugar, on her period, run nine miles? You're trying to kill her."

The advisor turned a hard stare on Byron.

"Byron. What is going on here."

Before Byron could get a word out, I caught the teacher's hand and explained.

"I'm sorry, sir. I was being too dramatic. The instructor said if your body's weak you need to train more. I'll go run right now. I promise I won't take leave and hold the rest of the class back again."

The doctor stamped his foot, furious.

"Training is supposed to be reasonable. You're already weak on your period, and pushing you into high-intensity training right now isn't training, it's killing you."

Byron looked at me, flustered.

"Barbara, don't talk nonsense, I was doing this for your own good. Sir, I thought Barbara was just trying to slack off. I had no idea her health was really this bad."

The advisor snapped at him coldly.

"Byron, boot camp is meant to toughen up a student's body and will, and it has to fit the student's physical condition. We got lucky nothing happened this time. If there's a next time, you won't get out of it."

Then the advisor wrote me a slip excusing me from the training, told me to rest properly, and said I didn't have to take part anymore.

That night, once I got back to the dorm, my roommates crowded around me.

"Barbara, are you okay? You actually passed out. We all thought you were faking to get out of it, and blamed you for getting us punished."

I sighed.

"My health's just bad. I dragged everyone down. I'm sorry."

The others shook their heads.

"It's fine. In the end the advisor came and told us to take leave right away if we felt unwell and not to push ourselves. So we didn't get the extra training, and things got a lot easier for us too."

I nodded. Just then, Gay looked over at me.

"Barbara, Byron was only looking out for you, and he got punished because of you."

I let out a cold laugh.

"For my own good? I was in so much pain I couldn't even stand, and he forced me to run nine miles. Even the doctor said that was pushing me to death. And you call that looking out for me?"

For a moment Gay had nothing to say to that.

Right then a student from the dorm next door knocked on the door.

"Gay, there's a Black exchange student downstairs waiting for you."

3: 3

Gay's eyes lit up. She dug the makeup bag out and touched up her face.

One of the girls laughed and teased her.

"Gay? What's the deal with that Black exchange student and you? Don't tell me he's your boyfriend. Gay, you've really got it, huh, even a Black exchange student's crazy about you."

Gay gave a smug little nod.

"New boyfriend. Oh, and I won't be back tonight. If the dorm supervisor does a room check, cover for me."

Another roommate asked with a grin.

"Gay, they say Black guys are really something in that department. Is it true?"

Gay narrowed her eyes, her smile turning loose and pleased.

"Try one yourself sometime and you'll find out. But yeah, definitely something."

A third roommate flushed and cleared her throat.

"Gay, we're still students. You really should be using protection, it's the smart thing to do."

Gay waved it off and slung her bag over her shoulder as she stood.

"You don't get it, skin on skin is the best part. And if I get pregnant, worst case I'll just find someone to take the fall for me."

All at once I remembered my last life. In the middle of class, red welts broke out over my skin for no reason, and I knew right away it was an allergic reaction, so I took leave and went back to the dorm for my allergy medicine.

I'd been back barely half an hour, the rash only just starting to settle, when the dorm door was shoved open.

Gay looked at me and spoke, her voice all fake reluctance.

"Should I really tell everyone, that Barbara took leave and came back to the dorm to secretly give birth in the dorm bathroom."

The girls heard her and rushed into the bathroom, and there on the floor lay a dark-skinned baby boy, bruise-purple choke marks around his neck.

In that instant, everyone decided I'd had the baby, didn't want to deal with it, and had strangled him.

The school ruled me morally corrupt and expelled me, and I was facing prison for premeditated murder.

I couldn't bear the crowd screaming at me, and in a daze I lost my footing on the stairs and fell to my death.

Remembering that miserable end, I shivered. Now that I thought about it, the baby in that bathroom was very likely Gay's. She was the only one in our dorm with a Black boyfriend.

I watched Gay's back as she left the room, my hands closing into fists.

Just then a roommate tugged at me.

"Barbara, you've crushed your bag flat. What are you spacing out about?"

I came back to myself and let go.

"It's nothing. Just thinking about something."

I'd been given another life, and I would never give Gay the chance to frame me again.

My phone rang. I picked up.

"Hello, is this Ms. Swanson? I'm a doctor at Bayport General Hospital. The results from your physical three days ago are in, and they aren't very good. Could you come down to the hospital when you have time?"

I answered and hung up.

My cramps had been getting worse this year, bad enough that I kept fainting, so a few days before the semester started, my mom took me in for a full workup.

The next day I went to the hospital.

The doctor handed me the test results.

"Ms. Swanson, things don't look good. There's a malignant tumor on your ovary, and it's already advanced. The best option now is a hysterectomy as soon as possible, to keep the cancer from spreading and threatening your life."

I hesitated. Then I thought of the frame-up in my last life, and I nodded.

"All right, doctor. I agree to the surgery."

I took a month's leave from my teacher, talked it over with my parents, and the surgery date was set soon after.

A month later I was recovering well, and the doctor told me I could be discharged.