Mom always loved to joke, no matter the occasion or place.

At my daughter’s first birthday banquet, she pulled out a fake paternity test report and, with tears in her eyes, cried to my husband.

“Although my daughter cheated on you and made you raise another man’s child, she has already promised me she will change!”

The entire hall instantly froze.

I tried my best to explain, but who would believe that a mother could speak such nonsense about her own child? My husband couldn’t accept it. He broke down on the spot and leapt to his death before my eyes.

When a life was gone, Mom finally pretended to apologize. “I was just joking. Who knew he would take it seriously?”

But my dad and younger brother only added fuel to the fire.

“Maybe he already suspected you, that’s why he believed it!”

“Exactly. If you hadn’t been unchaste yourself, who would believe such a joke?”

Despair swallowed me whole. Amid the curses of my in-laws and the condemning stares of everyone present, I staggered back step by step, lost my footing, and plunged from the tall building.

If I had another chance, I swore I would make Mom personally taste just how funny her joke truly was.

1

My daughter’s cries pulled me out of my dream. I blinked, staring blankly at her tear-streaked little face.

My husband, Rocco Craig, rubbed his eyes, then lifted her into his arms with practiced ease, murmuring comfort.

He turned to me with a smile. “Our daughter hasn’t been sleeping well lately. You’d better sleep in the second bedroom, so you won’t be disturbed and complain about dark circles tomorrow.”

A sharp buzz filled my head. Only when Rocco nudged me out of the master bedroom and I caught sight of the date on my phone did the truth sink in. I had been reborn.

Reborn one week before my mother, Veda, ruined everything with her so-called joke.

In just seven days, it would be my daughter’s first birthday banquet. We had reserved a hotel hall for the occasion. Yet during the so-called grab ceremony, Mom had casually placed a file envelope on the table.

“Baby, grab this one. If you grab this, you’ll know who your real father is.”

At first, I thought I had misheard her, my mind blank, my tongue forgetting to question it.

But Veda continued, speaking as if to herself.

“Forget it, you’re probably like your mom, unwilling to let your dad know the truth. But I can’t bear it any longer. Rocco is a model father, the rarest kind of good husband. I must tell him the truth; I can’t let him be deceived forever.”

Then, without hesitation, Veda produced a clearly fake paternity test, spitting out venomous lies. She painted me as an adulteress, accused me of conceiving another man’s child, of deceiving Rocco with shameless betrayal.

The joyous birthday banquet instantly dissolved into murmurs and ridicule.

Rocco broke down before my eyes. His hand rose, but when he looked at me, his strength faltered; he could not strike me.

Instead, he turned, climbed out of the window, and jumped. In my frantic panic, unable to explain or defend myself, I too lost my footing and fell.

Only after death did I finally learn that it had all been nothing more than one of my mother’s so-called jokes to lighten the mood.

…

Thinking of the despair and agony before death, and hearing Rocco’s gentle lullaby coaxing our daughter behind the door, I made up my mind in that instant.

I would not only protect this family, but also let my mother taste the bitter fruit of her own making.

A week slipped by quickly, and the first birthday banquet arrived, just as it had in the previous life.

The only difference was, this time, it was grander, more lavish, with even more relatives and friends filling the hall.

The moment the banquet began, Veda walked in, her tongue already sharp and restless.

“Giving birth to a money-losing girl and acting as if you’ve brought a crown prince into the world, what’s with that?”

“Making such a big show of it! When your nephew had his first birthday banquet, why didn’t you throw such a grand one then?”

“Even if Rocco has money, you can’t squander it like this. And with your brother’s heavy mortgage, if you really have money, shouldn’t you help him first?”

Rocco’s face darkened, but for my sake, he held back his words.

My in-laws, who had been joyfully holding my daughter, suddenly changed expressions at those remarks.

In truth, I had heard countless words like this before, yet every time I chose to endure.

Perhaps growing up under Veda’s constant scolding had numbed me into silence.

But I had already died once, how could I still fear her?

I set my hands firmly on my hips, pointed straight at Veda, and declared loudly, “So what? Just because there’s money in my home, I need to help raise your son’s child? Where does that leave my brother and sister-in-law, should they call me sister, or call me mother in the future?”

This was the first time I had ever talked back to Veda, and for a moment, she stood there, dumbfounded.

Then, with a resentful mutter, she said, “Wasn’t I just joking? Besides, don’t TV dramas always say that if you have a son, then a daughter is only icing on the cake? But if you only have a daughter, then it’s nothing at all!”

I didn’t back down. I still spoke loudly, “To you, a daughter is nothing. But to my in-laws and my husband, she is everything. You yourself are what they call a money-loser, but don’t drag my daughter into it, my daughter is a princess!”

My words lit a fire in Veda’s chest.

She couldn’t even wait for the grab ceremony. She lashed out, screaming, “And you still dare to argue! Rocco and his parents treat you so well, yet you ran around with all sorts of men, making Rocco raise another man’s child! You’re utterly ungrateful!”

3

As soon as Veda’s words ended, the lively birthday banquet turned deathly still. Even the servers and emcees froze in place, scandals like this were not something they stumbled upon every day.

Everyone’s gaze fell on me, branding me as a shameless woman. After all, who would imagine a mother fabricating such filth about her own daughter?

Yet this was Veda’s true nature. Her favorite pastime was making such so-called jokes, no matter the occasion, jokes that cut instead of amused.

I recalled my childhood. While I bathed, she would suddenly scream as though she had fallen, crying for help. In my panic, I would dash out unclothed, only to find her waiting by the door, perfectly fine, phone raised, laughter trembling on her lips.

“Child, why aren’t you wearing clothes? I was just on a video call with my colleagues. Come, say hello to your uncles and aunties!”

I had been so furious I nearly fainted, but she turned to my dad and brother and said with a straight face, “I was only joking, testing to see how much she cared for me. How could I know she’d be so careless, running out without clothes?”

Later, she apologized and even bought me a pretty white dress. But when I wore it out, people’s stares followed me everywhere. Finally, a teacher pulled me aside into the bathroom.

“Andie, your period started, didn’t you notice?”

That was when I discovered the truth. The back of the dress had been deliberately smeared with red paint by Veda.

I ran home in utter breakdown, only to see Veda smiling.

“I saw you were unhappy, so I just wanted to tease you a little. Why are you angry again?”

My dad and my brother laughed so hard they nearly toppled over.

“You can’t blame your mom for that, who told you not to check your clothes before wearing them?”

“Right, Mom meant well. Hurry and apologize to your mother!”

They had no idea that one careless joke of Veda’s had condemned me to endless ridicule throughout middle school.

4

With that thought, I looked at her steadily and asked, “You claim I fooled around with random men, that I betrayed Rocco? Is that your joke, or are you serious?”

The guests, who all knew Veda’s fondness for these cruel jests, quickly echoed my words.

“Veda, your jokes aren’t funny. You should stop.”

The outcome was far from what she expected. She stiffened, her face tense, yet she still snapped back, “I may enjoy joking, but I know well which ones can and cannot be told.”

Rocco’s gaze grew uneasy, but he clasped my hand and stood in front of me, shielding me.

“Mom, I believe Andie. She is not that kind of woman. The child is mine and mine alone.”

The moment Rocco spoke, my in-laws naturally stood on my side to defend me.

With their support, my stance became even more unshakable.

“Exactly. Words need evidence. You’d better explain this clearly, or don’t blame me for no longer acknowledging you as my mother.”

Seeing my firmness, Devon’s face darkened. He rushed forward, raising his hand to strike me, but Rocco caught him firmly, stopping him in his tracks.

Failing to land the blow, he stomped his foot in fury.

“You’ve got some nerve! How could your mom possibly make things up?”

Declan quickly nodded in agreement. “Mom only spoke up because she couldn’t bear to see Rocco wronged. You’d better kneel and apologize to him, beg him for forgiveness, or else he’ll cast you aside!”

I rolled my eyes at the three of them and picked up my phone. “Evidence. If you don’t have it, I’ll call the police.”

Seeing that I wasn’t joking, Veda’s face twisted in fury.

“You claim you didn’t betray Rocco, so what is the meaning of this paternity test report?”

With that, she yanked a file from her bag, flipping straight to the last page without even glancing at the rest.

“According to the test, sample A and sample B exclude a parent-child relationship. Sample A is the baby, and sample B is Rocco. This is conclusive evidence. What else can you possibly say?”

As she spoke, Veda waved the report smugly for everyone nearby to see.

“Actually, you’ve all always thought Andie was good, but only I, her biological mother, know she’s rotten to the core. Back when she was going to college, I deliberately chose a local university for her so she could find a job more easily, but she insisted on going far away. Wasn’t it just to chase after men, afraid I’d stop her?”