My mother-in-law, Barbara Morris, insisted that a load-bearing wall was blocking our home's good energy. She even hired someone to tear it down for a panoramic floor-to-ceiling window.

The contractor, Peter Stone, kept refusing. "Ma'am, we really can't do this. If we take this wall down, the whole building will collapse."

In my past life, I fought desperately to stop them, even getting on my knees and begging them not to touch this wall that held the entire building together.

My husband, Tom Williams, thought I was embarrassing him. He slapped me so hard that my left ear went deaf, and he forced them to demolish the wall anyway.

That night, the entire building suffered a catastrophic structural failure. I was trapped under the rubble for seven days and nights with ruptured internal organs.

Right before I died, I heard Tom shouting at the rescue team. "Save my mom first! That other woman has insurance. If she dies, we'll get the payout and buy a new place!"

At that moment, the resentment inside me hardened.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the moment when the construction crew had just arrived. Looking at that thick load-bearing wall and Tom's hand about to rise up and strike me, I smiled and handed him the eighty-pound sledgehammer nearby.

I said, "Mom's absolutely right. Once we knock down this wall, our place will turn into a luxurious river-view apartment. Anyone who tries to stop us is a complete idiot."

Tom Williams' hand froze in mid-air. He had clearly expected me to scream and stop like I always did before, and he had already braced himself for it.

He stared at me with wide eyes, his face full of disbelief as he mumbled, "What did you just say?"

Barbara Morris was caught off guard, too. Then, her sharp eyes narrowed as she let out a cold snort. She mocked, saying, "Well, it looks like you finally know your place."

I ignored her mockery and turned to straighten Tom's collar instead. "Honey, I was being stubborn before. I didn't understand her vision. I took a closer look at it just now, and that wall really is blocking the light and keeping all the good energy out of our home. Mom's only insisting on this because she wants what's best for us. After all, she wants you to make it big."

Tom ate that right up. With my flattery, his tense face immediately relaxed, and he stood up straighter.

He replied, "Damn right! What the hell do you know anyway? Mom's been around way longer than you, so you think she'd ever hurt me?"

He turned to look at Peter Stone, the man from the licensed construction company. "You hear that? My wife agrees now, so get to work!"

Peter refused no matter what. In the end, he left with his crew.

Tom felt humiliated and spat viciously at Peter's retreating back, saying, "Screw you! What kind of idiot turns down a paying job?"

Barbara was even more furious, pointing her finger right at my nose as she started yelling. "Gabrielle Hughes! What kind of garbage contractor did you hire? They're a bunch of cowards! Did you set this up on purpose just to piss me off, huh?"

She scoffed and said, "You just can't stand to see Tom succeed! You can't stand the thought of us living in a big luxury home!"

I forced down my rage and put on a frightened expression. "Mom, please calm down. It was indeed my fault."

I poured a cup of water and held it out to her with both hands. "These licensed companies have too many rules and regulations. They're too rigid; no flexibility at all. However, I heard from a friend the other day about a contractor named Rex Dawson who specializes in high-end renovations of this kind.

"The guy's got skills and guts. As long as the money's right, there's no wall he won't tear down."

Tom's eyes lit up. He threw his cigarette butt on the floor and crushed it violently under his foot.

He said, "For real? Then, what are we waiting for? Call him now! This is my house, and I don't need someone else's permission to smash a wall!"

I pulled out my phone and scrolled to the number of that blacklisted construction crew I had seen on the news in my past life.

In my previous life, that same Rex had caused several residential buildings to collapse due to code violations and had a notorious reputation.

Before long, the call connected.

I deliberately put it on speaker. "Hello? Mr. Dawson? We want to install floor-to-ceiling windows, but there's a pretty solid wall, and other crews won't take the job..."

A rough, raspy voice came through the phone. "As long as the money's good, I don't care who shows up. I'll smash that wall wide open for you!"

After hanging up, Tom looked completely satisfied. "Now, that's what I call professional!"

Barbara nodded approvingly and glanced at me sideways. "Gabrielle, you're finally making yourself useful."

Rex arrived quickly. He brought four burly guys in tank tops, carrying sledgehammers and jackhammers.

He had a cigarette dangling from his mouth as he squinted at the load-bearing wall. He reached out and knocked on it, producing a dull echo.

He said, "This wall? It's a shear wall, packed with rebar, a real tough one."

He blew a smoke ring and flicked his ash directly onto the floor. "That's going to cost extra."

Tom's mind was already filled with images of a panoramic floor-to-ceiling window, so he waved his hand grandly.

"Done! As long as you can tear it down, money's no problem! I want it open! I want it to be impressive!"

I seized the moment to hand Rex a pack of premium cigarettes and lit one for him.

Rex greedily accepted the cigarette and laughed. "Mrs. Williams sure knows how things work. Alright, boys! Get to work!"

The jackhammer's piercing roar instantly filled the entire room. Then came the heavy thuds of the 80-pound sledgehammer smashing into the wall.

It felt like the entire building was trembling. The crystal chandelier above our heads even swayed violently, as if it might fall at any moment.

Less than ten minutes later, urgent pounding came from the front door.

"Open up! Open the door right now! Are you trying to tear down the whole building? My kid is crying from the noise!"

The downstairs neighbors had come up.

Tom frowned and slammed his teacup down on the table. "Damn it! A bunch of broke losers with nothing better to do."

He grabbed a hammer and stormed toward the door aggressively. As soon as the door opened, he saw George Miller from downstairs standing there with a flushed face.

George screamed, "What the hell are you doing in there? Why is it so loud? My chandelier shook loose! Are you messing with a load-bearing wall?"

He was a retired engineer, and he immediately spotted the exposed rebar inside.

His face went ghostly pale. "You're insane! You've lost your mind! That's a load-bearing wall! Stop right now!"

Tom pointed the hammer at George's nose while cursing, "I'm renovating my own place, and it's none of your damn business! I dropped hundreds of thousands on this apartment, and I'll remodel it however I want! Keep running your mouth, and I'll bash your head in!"

Barbara rushed over to back him up, swinging a broom at George. "Get lost! Get out of here, you fool! You're just jealous that we're putting in big windows; you can't stand to see us doing well! Gabrielle, get some salt and sprinkle it around us to get rid of this bad energy!"

George's whole body shook with rage at this mother and son's shamelessness. "You're committing a crime! I'm calling the police! I'm getting the building manager!"

"Call whoever the hell you want!" Tom shoved George aside and slammed the security door shut.

The impact shook the doorframe so hard that dust fell from it.

When he turned back around, Tom's face was full of hostility. "Bunch of cowards trying to scare me? As if."

I saw my opportunity and pretended to hide behind Tom fearfully, saying quietly, "Honey, the building manager is pretty close with Mr. Miller. What if he brings people to shut down the renovation? Mom said this is our chance for a luxury upgrade. If we stop halfway, the whole investment will go down the drain."

Tom slapped me hard across the face. "Gabrielle, can't you say something positive for once? Are you hoping that I won't get my floor-to-ceiling windows?"

I lowered my head and covered my face, my eyes ice cold.

Barbara chimed in from the side, saying, "Gabrielle, if you can't say anything good, just keep your mouth shut. You're such a downer. Besides, who would dare shut us down? Tom, keep going! I'd like to see which idiot tries to stop us!"

Tom saw the workers hesitating and yelled at Rex. "What are you staring at? Keep smashing! If anything happens, I'll handle it! I've got connections at the Housing Authority!"

The jackhammer roared to life again, even more violently than before.

Barbara looked at me with disgust and pointed toward the study. "Gabrielle, what's all that junk piled up in there? Clear it out right now! I need to put my automatic poker table in there."

The study was full of my professional books and several paintings my late father had left me. They were my most precious possessions.

In my past life, Barbara had clawed my face bloody when I tried to protect those things.

This time, I swallowed my rage and nodded with a smile. "You're right. Those books don't put food on the table. We're turning this place into a luxurious river-view apartment anyway, so what's the point of keeping all that junk around?"

I walked into the study and carried my dad's paintings and my books with me. Then, I organized them in a pile.

Barbara did not even glance at them and just kicked the pile toward the door like trash. She grumbled, "Throw them out! They're an eyesore!"

Tom walked over and deliberately picked up one of the paintings I had already packed. It was my dad's final work before he died.

He mocked, "How much could this scrap of paper be worth anyway? My cigarette pack probably has more value than this."

He tore the painting in half and casually threw it into the trash pile covered in cement dust.

I watched the torn paper, my nails digging deep into my palms. Tom had just deliberately destroyed my dad's painting right in front of me.

I said, "It's right to toss it. Out with the old, in with the new."

I silently crouched down, picked up the torn pieces of the painting, and stuffed them into my bag.

I thought, 'Tom, oh, Tom! You've made me completely give up on you.'

The building manager eventually came with security guards. However, with Tom's aggressive threats and Barbara's hysterical tantrums, they could not even get through the door.

Tom stood in the doorway holding a kitchen knife, claiming he would kill anyone who tried to enter.

The property manager was afraid that someone might get hurt, so they could only shut off the building's electricity.

Even so, that did not stop Rex. He illegally tapped into the emergency electrical box in the hallway, and the jackhammer kept roaring.

Half of the wall had already been smashed away. Without its support, small cracks began forming along the ceiling.

Rex wiped his sweat and looked at the thick rebar nervously. "Mr. Williams, this rebar is too dense. It's all primary structural steel. You really want it all cut? The floor above might collapse."

He wanted the money, but he did not want to die there, either.

Barbara was sitting on the couch eating chips, and when she heard that, she spat the whole mouthful on the floor.

"Cut them! Cut them all! What's the point of leaving those metal rods there? I want it open! I want a clear river view! You're a grown man, so why are you hesitating? Are you trying to squeeze more money out of us?"

I walked forward at just the right moment and handed Rex a cold energy drink.

Then, I turned to Tom and said, "Honey, Mr. Dawson's just worried about safety. After all, this is under-the-table work. If something really does go wrong, he's afraid of being liable for it. Why don't we sign a waiver for him? To prove that you insisted on this demolition, and it has nothing to do with them. That way, they can work without worrying and really get the job done right."

Tom's face showed a hint of hesitation. However, when he thought about what I had said earlier about the river-view apartment, the prestige, and being the only one in the entire building with such a view, his hesitation faded.

"Cowards! You're all cowards! Fine, I'll sign it! If anything happens, I'll take the blame! It's got nothing to do with you!"

He scribbled his name boldly across the paper.

I carefully collected the paper, folded it, and put it in my inside pocket. After finishing all that, I checked my phone.

The timing was just about right.

"Honey, the company just messaged me. They need me to go on a business trip out of state for a week. They said if I can close this big client, there's a 50-thousand-dollar bonus in it."