Life in the psychiatric hospital was actually pretty good. Three balanced meals a day, no job to worry about.

After eating, I would wander around the garden, soaking up the sun. It was quiet, almost peaceful.

A week later, the doctor said I was doing well and could be discharged.

I did the math. By now, Christine should've already burned down the children's hospital.

My phone chimed.

Just like last time, every major platform was flooded with coverage of the fire.

Parents clung to each other in front of the charred ruins, crying until they could barely stand. White flowers were laid out in a circle around the wreckage.

I hadn't even gone far from the hospital when Malcolm and Christine showed up, a large crowd of furious family members trailing behind them.

The second Malcolm saw me, his eyes turned red, as if he had just dragged himself through grief.

"Sandra, I never thought you could be this cruel! You complained all the time about how annoying those kids were, and I let it go. But how could you actually do something like this? That was over two thousand lives! Do you have any idea how many families you destroyed?"

Christine's eyes were swollen from crying. "Sandra, even if you're my best friend, I'm not covering for you. As a pediatric doctor, how could you hurt those kids?"

The way Malcolm looked at me was like I was beyond saving. He seemed to want to tear me apart with his bare hands.

With both of them pointing at me, the parents who had been holding it in finally broke.

Some collapsed to the ground, wailing as they thought about their children burned alive. Others clenched their fists, eyes bloodshot, like they wanted to kill me right there.

People nearby started pulling out their phones.

"Look! They found the one who set the fire! I heard she's head of pediatrics!"

"This is disgusting! Everyone, get a good look at her face. People like this shouldn't be allowed to live!"

I just stood there, stunned. I had been locked in a psychiatric hospital all week. What proof did they have that I did this?

A water bottle came flying out of the crowd and slammed into my forehead. Warm blood started running down almost instantly.

More things followed. The mob threw whatever they could grab.

I tried to explain, but no one listened.

They shouted that I had to pay with my life. Some people, completely unhinged, even grabbed knives from nearby stalls and rushed toward me.

More and more bystanders piled in, blocking the entire entrance to the hospital.

My attending doctor, Jack Moore, stepped out of an ambulance with its hazard lights flashing, his voice cutting through the chaos.

"What's going on? This is a hospital entrance! If you delay emergency treatment, who's going to take responsibility?"

I looked at him like he was my last chance. "Dr. Moore! They're saying I burned the hospital last night. They're trying to kill me!"

Malcolm lunged for me, but I dodged, which only made him angrier. "If it wasn't you, then who else could it be?"

Right then, Christine pulled out her phone and started playing a video.

In the footage, I was wearing a white coat, covering a crying child's mouth while cursing at him to hurry up and die.

In my last life, Christine uploaded that video online, and the whole internet turned on me.

The parents lost themselves in their rage. Right there in the courtroom, they poured gasoline over me and burned me alive.

Even now, just the thought of how the flames ate through me down to the bone made my whole body tremble.

There was a flicker of satisfaction in Malcolm's eyes, though his face still wore that mask of righteous anger.

"Sandra, we've been together this long, and only now do I see what kind of cold, vicious person you really are! You're the head of the department. You're the only one with emergency access to the ward. If it wasn't you, then who else could it be?"

The families he stirred up were on the edge, eyes red, closing in on me like they wanted to tear me apart. They kept pressing closer.

"Everyone, stop!" Jack stepped in front of me, shielding me. "This is a hospital! Who gave you the right to act like this?"

As soon as he finished, a line of security guards appeared behind him, each holding a stun baton.

"What proof do you have that I set the fire?" I said. "Did any of you actually see me do it?"

Last time, I was labeled the killer without even understanding how. This time, I wasn't going to let them pin it on me so easily.

"Sandra, stop lying!" Christine snapped. "When I got off work yesterday, I saw someone sneaking around. That was you."

She wouldn't let go of it.

One of the guards, with dark circles heavy under his eyes, stepped forward, clearly irritated.

"Miss, you can't just accuse someone like that without proof. Our inpatient ward locks down at nine every night. No one goes in or out after that. The fire didn't start until eleven. What proof do you have that one of our patients slipped out and set it?"

Christine shrank back, visibly shaken by his tone.

Malcolm's expression darkened. Without a word, he pulled up another surveillance video.

In it, I was wearing a white coat, skillfully avoiding the nurses on duty as I slipped into the pediatric ward. Not long after, thick smoke started seeping out from the crack under the door.

The footage was crystal clear. You could even see the hospital patient uniform under the coat, the pant legs marked with several burned holes.

Even though I had seen all this before, the shock still hit me.

If the guards hadn't also pulled up footage from the same time showing me resting in my room, I might've started wondering if I was sleepwalking.

For a moment, everyone fell into confusion.

"How are there two of them in different places?"

"Which video is real?"

Even the furious parents hesitated, unsure what to believe.

Malcolm pointed at me without hesitation.

"I've been with her for ten years! You think I wouldn't recognize her? She's the one who burned the hospital. I'm sure of it!"

"I don't know what kind of trick she used, but she's the one who killed your children!" Malcolm barked. "The person you're looking for is right in front of you. Grab her!"

Malcolm stepped in front of the families, shouting at the top of his lungs.

Something about his attitude felt off, and even the grieving parents started to notice.

Jack frowned and spoke up, trying to keep things fair. "If we both think the other video is fake, then let the police examine them and decide."

Malcolm let out a cold laugh, his gaze moving back and forth between Jack and me.

"Now I get it. You two must've gotten close while she was admitted, huh? Sandra, that's disgusting! No wonder even the hospital guards are lining up to defend you."

He made a show of looking revolted.

Jack clenched his fists.

"What are you talking about? When she was admitted, she wasn't even conscious. She was out of it for days before she stabilized. And you, her boyfriend, didn't visit her once. Now you're standing here throwing accusations without a shred of proof?"

Malcolm shrugged it off like it meant nothing. "She went crazy on her own. What does that have to do with me?"

The people watching started exchanging looks. For someone who had been with me for ten years, he didn't act like it at all.

When Malcolm saw everyone hesitate, his anger flared. "The person who killed your kids is standing right there, and you're still hesitating? Are you even their parents?"

He kept pushing, as if he wouldn't stop until I was dead.

But by now, everyone could tell something wasn't right. The tension eased just enough as they waited for the police to sort it out.

Soon, five officers pushed through the crowd.

"After examining the scene, we determined the fire was started with this lighter. There's a fingerprint on it, and it matches Ms. Hill's."

A female officer stepped in front of me and showed her badge.

"You're Sandra Hill, right? You'll need to come with us."

In an instant, all the anger swung back toward me. The parents pointed at me with shaking hands, eyes burning as they began to shout.

"Beat her to death! Make her pay for our children!"

"Kill her!"

The scene felt painfully familiar.

Last time, not long after the fire, the police took me away just like this.

They showed the footage, said I was the one who set the fire, and that I had killed over two thousand children.

It all felt like a trap closing in, piece by piece.

And the only thing I was certain of was this: someone wanted me dead.

The officer's words sent another wave of chaos through the crowd. If the police hadn't been there, the mob would've torn me apart already.

I stepped back behind the officers and spoke, steady and clear.

"Don't you want to know who the real killer is?"

A flicker of panic flashed through Malcolm and Christine's eyes, but they quickly covered it up and pointed at me again.

"Sandra, the police already matched your fingerprint. How are you still denying it?"

"At this point, you should just turn yourself in. Maybe you'll get a lighter sentence!"

The families, barely held back by the officers, grew even more furious, as if they wanted to rip me to pieces on the spot.

The female officer frowned slightly and took out a pair of handcuffs.

"Sandra Hill, you're our primary suspect right now. We have to bring you in for questioning."

"I didn't kill anyone."

I pulled my hand back, took out my phone, and brought up the hospital surveillance footage.

The moment the audio started playing, a smile tugged at my lips.

This was what I had been waiting for.