On the day I was due to give birth, I got into a severe car accident while driving to the hospital alone. My husband, an emergency room doctor, rushed off to save his "true love," who had slit her wrists in an apparent suicide attempt. I didn't call him. I watched as my car burst into flames, consumed by the inferno after the crash. In my past life, one desperate call from me had caused him to abandon his beloved, Lily James, in her time of need. He saved me and our unborn child, but Lily bled out alone, her body not discovered until three days later. Though my husband swore he didn't blame me and claimed it was his choice to make, the shadow of her death hung over us. He even insisted on throwing me a grand wedding. But the night before the ceremony, he knocked me out and dragged me to Lily's home. There, in the very bathtub where she had died, he mutilated me, carving me piece by piece, and even cutting our child from my womb. His eyes glowed red with rage as he stared at my bloodied body. "Isn't it just a car crash? You didn't die! But Lily did because of you! Now, I'll make sure you feel the pain she went through that day!" When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day of the accident...