How terrified must my son have been in his final moments? Holding back the lump in my throat, I sat beside my son and gently asked, "Ronan, how have your mom and grandma been treating you lately?"

He replied with a bright, innocent smile, "They've been really good to me, Dad."

I paused momentarily before continuing, "And what about your teacher? How does he treat you?"

"He's great! He takes good care of me at kindergarten!" His response was natural and straightforward, his small face glowing with happiness.

Then he blinked his big, bright eyes, looking confused. "Dad, I don't feel sick today. Why aren't we going to school?"

I stroked his soft cheek, my heart aching. "Because Dad can't bear to be apart from you."

In my past life, sending him to kindergarten that day had led to his mysterious drowning. This time, I wouldn't let anything happen to him. After breakfast, my son sat in the living room, watching TV while I cleared the table and washed the dishes. Halfway through, my phone rang. It was his teacher. "Mr. Yelverton, why hasn't your son come to school today? Is he feeling unwell?"

My heart clenched when I heard the exact words as in my previous life. Walking toward the living room, I responded politely, "Sorry, Mr. Zach. Ronan isn't feeling well today. I was just about to call you to let you know ... "

My voice caught in my throat. The sofa where my son had been just moments ago was empty. He was gone. A surge of panic overwhelmed me. I immediately hung up and frantically searched the house. I called his name repeatedly, looking in every possible hiding spot.

Alas, the house was silent. He was nowhere to be found. No one answered me. Terror gripped my heart. The memories of my past life came rushing back like a nightmare, making my legs weak and my vision blur.

With trembling hands, I hastily dialed the police. Just like before, they found my son's body in the pond near our home. I ran to the pond like a madman, watching in disbelief as they pulled my lifeless child from the water.

Just minutes ago, he had been smiling so sweetly at me. Now, he was cold and pale, a motionless corpse. I felt like I had fallen into an icy abyss, unable to breathe. My legs gave out and I stumbled forward, clutching his tiny body.

I held him tightly, desperately trying to warm his freezing skin with my own body heat. I choked out his name between sobs, begging him to wake up. Unfortunately, no matter how much I called, no matter how tightly I held him, my son never opened his eyes.

Realizing that he was gone once again, an unbearable pain tore through me. Why? Why had I done everything differently this time, fought to keep him by my side and still failed to save him? Why, no matter what I did, couldn't I protect my own child?

The agony consumed me, draining me of even the strength to cry. Alice and Ruby arrived in a panic after hearing the news. When they saw my son lying lifeless in my arms, Alice let out a gut-wrenching wail.

She rushed forward, shoving me aside and clutching him tightly in her embrace. "Ronan, my sweet grandson. I was only gone for a short while to see a doctor. How could this happen?"

Tears streamed down Ruby's face as she trembled uncontrollably. "Ronan! Wake up, baby. Please don't scare Mommy like this. Are you mad at Mommy for not taking you to school today? Please, wake up. I'm sorry! I'll do anything, just please, open your eyes!"

Ruby's face twisted with regret as she spoke and slapped herself hard across the cheek. The surrounding crowd watched the heartbreaking scene, their voices filled with sorrow and sympathy. "Huft, everyone in the neighborhood knows how well-behaved and polite this child was. He was such a joy to be around."

"Yeah, I remember how much his family loved him. Now that he's gone, how will they go on?"

"Such a tragedy. A bright little boy, gone just like that. How did he suddenly drown in the pond?"

Amidst the murmurs, a police officer investigating the case approached me with a stern expression, holding a tablet. "We just checked the surveillance footage. It clearly shows you bringing the victim here and forcibly drowning him in the pond."

"Do you have anything to say about this?" he asked as he played the surveillance video for everyone to see. The footage clearly showed me leading my son to the pond, dragging him into the water and holding him down until he stopped struggling. Only then did I let go.

The moment the video ended, all eyes in the crowd turned towards me. Shock, anger and hatred filled their gazes. As I watched the video, a scene I had never witnessed before and faced the eyes of a crowd that seemed ready to tear me apart, I felt like I was reliving my previous life. That same feeling of utter helplessness and despair washed over me once again.

Before I could utter a single word, Ruby stormed toward me, her eyes burning with fury. She slapped me across the face, her voice shaking with rage. "Theo, are you even human? Ronan was your own son! He was only five years old! How could you do this to him?"

My wife's hand trembled, but her slap was forceful, leaving a sharp sting on my cheek. Her bloodshot eyes glared at me with pure hatred, as if she wished she could tear me apart. The scene was eerily familiar.

My heart ached with unbearable pain. Ruby hadn't listened to me then and wouldn't listen now. She had sentenced me with a single slap, crushing all my hopes. Alice clutched my son's lifeless body, glaring at me with overwhelming grief and fury. "What did Ronan ever do to deserve this? Why did you kill him?"

She grew increasingly hysterical, clutching her chest as if she couldn't breathe. The crowd erupted in rage, their voices filled with contempt. "This man is worse than a beast! How could he murder his own son?"

"I actually felt sorry for him when he was crying just now. Turns out he was just putting on a show! A cold-blooded killer!"

"Disgusting. A man like this doesn't deserve to be a father—or to be alive!"

They began spitting at me and throwing trash. Some even took out their phones to record videos and live-stream accusations of my crime. The live stream quickly went viral. The comments section was flooded with people mourning my son's death, cursing me for being a heartless father and wishing me a horrible death.

Seeing that the situation was getting out of hand, the police stepped in to maintain order. One officer stared at me intently, his voice stern. "This incident has caused quite a stir and it's a very serious matter. The evidence is clear. Do you have anything to say?"

I didn't hesitate. I met the officer's eyes and spoke firmly. "I didn't kill my son. I would never harm him. Officer, I beg you. Please investigate this thoroughly. If you don't, the real killer will walk free forever. I'm not afraid to die, but I can't let my son's death remain a mystery."

The officer frowned. His gaze grew sharper and colder as if he were looking at an incorrigible criminal.

"We have thoroughly reviewed the surveillance footage. There is no sign of tampering. If you're not the murderer, then who is?"

Yeah, who exactly killed my son and framed me for it? This question has haunted me for two lifetimes. Even in death, I couldn't figure it out.

Seeing me at a loss for words, the crowd erupted into another wave of insults. "Why aren't you arguing now? Feeling guilty because you know you did it?"

"You killed your own son and you still have the audacity to play the victim? How disgusting!"

"That poor child was so well-behaved and kind, yet he ended up with a monstrous father like you."

"His wife and mother-in-law are unlucky to have encountered such scum."

Even the live-stream chat was flooded with curses, condemning me for being unrepentant and wishing for my worst possible fate. Amidst the storm of accusations, the lead officer waved his hand. "Take him to the station!"

At his command, officers immediately cuffed me and dragged me toward the police car. In my past life, this was exactly how it happened. I was falsely accused, sent to prison and brutally beaten to death.

Even my parents weren't spared. They were doxxed, harassed and driven into hiding. Every time they dared step outside, they were bombarded with insults, garbage and even funeral wreaths thrown at their doorstep. In the end, they died miserable deaths in our own home, their bodies left to rot unnoticed.

Am I really doomed to repeat this tragic fate? Will my son die in vain again, his murderer never found? My mind was in turmoil, a tangled mess of confusion and frustration. Where did everything go wrong?

In my past life, I clearly took my son to kindergarten. Yet, everyone who saw us that day swore we were never there. In this life, I had kept my son at home. Still, he had vanished into thin air, only to be found dead in the pond near our house.

I had done nothing wrong. Yet, the surveillance footage showed clear evidence of me committing the crime. Why? Why was this happening? Who killed my son?

A thousand questions swirled in my mind, clouding my thoughts. I knew something was terribly wrong, but I couldn't pinpoint what it was. I desperately combed through my memories of both lives, searching for a single clue, a thread that could unravel this nightmare.

Then, just as I was about to be shoved into the police car, a sudden realization hit me like a lightning bolt. My eyes widened in shock before I spun around and shouted at the top of my lungs, "I know who the killer is!"