All For My Children
For the first half of my life, I worked like an old workhorse, revolving around my family and giving my best to my husband Jason Zimmerman and our two children.
When my son Leon got married, I emptied my savings to buy their wedding house. When my daughter Jane had a baby, I quit my job to take care of her, not asking for a single penny in salary.
I always believed that when I got old, the kids would be filial, and Jason and I could finally live a peaceful, happy life.
But I never imagined that the golden years I longed for would turn out to be a carefully planned betrayal.
That day, Leon and Jane suddenly showed up at home, carrying bags and packages, smiling unusually sweetly.
"Mom, you and Dad have worked hard all your lives. We've bought you a luxurious retirement home!" Leon said, pulling out the purchase contract.
I looked at my name on the contract, and my eyes welled up with tears.
I held my children's hands, repeating, "You're wasting money," but inside, my heart was sweeter than honey.
Jane Zimmerman slipped her arm through mine and said softly, "Mom, this is our love as your children—please accept it."
"But since the money for the house wasn't enough, I took out a loan in your name. The monthly mortgage isn't much—just think of it as building security for yourself."
I didn't think much of it—my children were so caring, after all—so I signed right then and handed my salary card to Jane to help with the mortgage payments.
Since then, every month I waited for Jane Zimmerman to tell me the home loan was finally paid off, dreaming about moving into a spacious, bright retirement home.
Then, six months later, Jason Zimmerman suddenly started coughing up blood. He was rushed to the hospital for tests and diagnosed with late-stage lung cancer.
The doctor said chemotherapy needed to start immediately, with upfront costs of at least two hundred thousand.
I was desperate and hurried home to get my salary card, hoping to withdraw whatever money was left for an emergency.
But when I arrived at the bank, the teller told me there was only three hundred dollars left in the account.
At first, I thought I misheard and checked several times. But no—there was truly only three hundred dollars.
My heart just sank to the bottom. I deposit my salary into this card every month—how could there be so little left?
I stumbled to the Real Estate Bureau, hoping to check on the retirement home, but the staff's words hit me like a thunderbolt.
"This house was mortgaged last month. The person who mortgaged it is Jason Zimmerman."
My mind went blank, my whole body trembled, and I could barely stand.
Jason knew perfectly well that this was the retirement home our children bought for us. How could he mortgage the house?
Clutching the mortgage certificate, I staggered back to the hospital.
Jason Zimmerman lay on the hospital bed, avoiding my eyes when he saw the proof in my hand, stammering and unable to reply.
After pressing him for a long time, he finally admitted that Leon Zimmerman and Jane Zimmerman had forced him to mortgage the house, saying they needed the money for an investment and would pay it back once it succeeded.
I was so furious that my whole body shook, and I immediately called Leon and Jane to come to the hospital.
But when they arrived, instead of feeling any guilt, they blamed me instead.
"Mom, what's wrong with you? We were kind enough to buy you a house, and now you're turning against us?" Jane Zimmerman frowned, her voice dripping with impatience.
Leon Zimmerman snapped even more bluntly, "Mom, Dad's sick and needs money, but we're struggling too!"
"All the money from the house mortgage has been spent; we can't get it back now. You'll have to figure it out yourself!"
"Figure it out? My salary card is in your hands, and there's only three hundred left on it. How exactly am I supposed to figure it out?" I was so furious that tears streamed down my face.
"Who knows if you've hidden the money somewhere? Maybe you've already given up on Dad!" Jane's words cut through me like a knife.
I never imagined that the children I poured my heart and soul into would treat me like this.
What broke me even more was that, within a few days, all kinds of posts started appearing online, slandering me.
"A vicious mother who ignores her husband's cancer and secretly hoards money."
"A selfish old woman who occupies the house her children bought and refuses to give money for her husband's treatment."...
The posts included my photo and some deliberately distorted chat records, all fabricated by Leon Zimmerman and Jane Zimmerman.
People online, unaware of the truth, flooded the comment sections with insults, and some even found my address, yelling ungrateful wretch and heartless outside my building every day.
I didn't dare to go outside or look at my phone—I lived every day in fear and despair.
Jason Zimmerman lay in the hospital, cold and cruel, calling me selfish and heartless.
I felt utterly alone, cast aside by the whole world.
That night, staring at the neon lights outside the window, my heart turned ice-cold.
I picked up my phone, wanting to message my children, begging them to let me be—but my fingers wouldn't press the keys.
Suddenly, a sharp pain gripped my chest; I collapsed and never woke up.
Until the moment I died, I never imagined that the family I had devoted my life to would be the ones to drive me into death's abyss.
"Helen, Helen, wake up!"
Through the haze, I heard someone calling my name.
I slowly opened my eyes and saw the familiar ceiling, with Jason Zimmerman anxiously sitting by my bedside.
"Jason? I... Didn't I die?" I asked, confused, touching my chest—there was no pain at all.
Jason frowned. "What nonsense are you talking about?"
"You fainted while cooking yesterday. The doctor said it was hypoglycemia, nothing serious. Why would you say such nonsense?"
I suddenly sat up and looked around. This was the old house where Jason Zimmerman and I had lived for twenty years—it wasn't a hospital, nor that rental place that had filled me with despair.
I picked up the calendar on the table; the date was two years earlier.
There was still a month before the kids were to buy me a retirement home, and half a year before Jason was diagnosed with cancer.
I've been reborn!
I can't believe I've actually been reborn!
After the overwhelming joy came a deep, burning hatred.
The betrayals, lies, online harassment, and the despair I felt before death—all from my past life—kept flashing through my mind, chilling me to the bone.
This time, I will never make the same mistake again!
Jason Zimmerman kept nagging beside me: "You're getting older; don't work yourself so hard. The family doesn't need that little bit of salary from you anyway..."
I looked at his hypocritical face and felt a wave of disgust.
In my last life, he clearly knew the kids were taking out loans using my identity to buy the house, even helped them mortgage it, and in the end, joined them in blaming me.
A man like that—I will never have any expectations of him again.
"I understand." I cut him off coldly.
Jason Zimmerman froze for a moment, clearly surprised I'd talk to him like that, but he didn't dwell on it and went to the kitchen to cook.
I sat on the bed, starting to figure out what I should do in this life.
The kids were about to trick me into signing the purchase contract and taking out an identity loan in my name—I had to stop them.
But I was alone and powerless, and Jason would undoubtedly side with the kids. Who could I turn to for help?
Then, a name popped into my mind—Charles Deer.
Charles Deer was a poor student I had sponsored ten years ago.
Back then, he got into a prestigious university, but because our family was poor and couldn't afford the tuition, I kept supporting him after seeing the news until he graduated.
He was very responsible. After graduating, he became a lawyer and often called or sent me things to thank me for my help.
In my previous life, Jason Zimmerman and the kids spread rumors everywhere, saying Charles Deer was my kept man just because he often came to see me, and they even forced me to cut off contact with him.
At that time, I was blinded by my family. I really did cut off contact with Charles Deer. Looking back now, I deeply regret it.
Charles Deer is a lawyer; he can definitely help me figure something out. Besides, he's honest and upright—he would never betray me like Jason Zimmerman and the kids did.
I immediately grabbed my phone and looked up Charles Deer's number.
My palms were sweaty. I took a deep breath and pressed the dial button.
The phone rang a few times before being answered. Charles' gentle voice came through: "Aunt Cooper, why are you calling me? How have you been feeling lately?"
Hearing his familiar voice, my nose prickled, and I almost burst into tears.
"Charles, I... I have something I need your help with." I choked back tears as I spoke.
"Auntie, don't worry. Take your time. As long as I can help, I definitely will." Charles Deer's steady voice immediately put me at ease.
I gathered myself and briefly explained to Charles Deer how my children tricked me into buying a house and taking loans, and how online harassment led to my death.
I thought he would dismiss me as crazy—after all, it was such an unbelievable story.
But unexpectedly, after a few seconds of silence, Charles Deer's voice trembled: "Auntie, you... you were reborn too?"
I was stunned: "Charles, you too..."
"Yes," Charles Deer said, "After seeing your news in my previous life, I knew something was off. Later, I discovered that Leon Zimmerman and Jane Zimmerman had fabricated evidence and harassed you online, and uncovered the truth about Uncle Zimmerman mortgaging the house."
"I want to help you reopen the case, but before I could even find the evidence, you already..."
His voice was a little choked: "I never expected that I would be reborn too, and even get your call."
"Auntie, in this life, I will never let you suffer any more injustice!"
Hearing Charles Deer's words, I couldn't hold back anymore; tears began to flow uncontrollably.
So, I'm not fighting this battle alone after all.
"Charles, thank you. Thank you for being willing to help me."
"Auntie, please don't be so formal with me. You supported me years ago and gave me a second chance at life. Now it's my turn to repay you." Charles Deer said.
"By the way, Auntie, my girlfriend Stella Lawrence is also a lawyer. She's very skilled at handling financial disputes and infringement cases."
"We'll come see you tomorrow to discuss how to deal with Leon Zimmerman and Jane Zimmerman, and also investigate the house situation."
"Alright, alright!" I quickly agreed, finally feeling a flicker of hope in my heart.
After hanging up, I gazed out at the sunlight streaming through the window, a small smile breaking across my face—the first since my rebirth.
This time, I'm going to live for myself and make those who betrayed me pay the price they deserve!
The next morning, Charles Deer and Stella Lawrence arrived at my house right on time.
Stella is a very capable young woman; dressed in professional attire and wearing glasses, she looked thoroughly professional.
As soon as she came in, she took my hand and smiled, saying, "Aunt Cooper, I've heard Charles speak of you often. You're such a kind person. We will make sure you get the justice you deserve."
With them by my side, I feel so much more at ease.
We sat on the sofa and talked things over in detail.
Charles Deer said, "Auntie, Leon Zimmerman and Jane Zimmerman will soon come to talk to you about buying a retirement home."
"When the time comes, you should pretend to agree at first and show us the purchase contract and the loan contract."
"We'll help you spot the traps they've set and then find a way to collect evidence of their fraud."
Stella Lawrence added, "Also, about the house mortgage, we've already reached out to friends at the Real Estate Bureau."
"As soon as they try to mortgage the house, we'll know right away—and we can find out who they mortgaged it to."
Just as we were wrapping up our discussion, my phone rang. It was Leon Zimmerman calling.
"Mom, are you home? Jane and I want to talk to you about something—about buying you a retirement home."
Leon's voice was just as fake and insincere as it was in my past life.
I glanced at Charles Deer and Stella Lawrence; they nodded at me.
"I'm home. Come on over." I said calmly.
After I hung up, Charles said, "Auntie, we'll step aside and listen from the next room. Don't be nervous—just stick to the plan we talked about."
I nodded, watching them walk into the next room, then straightened my clothes and waited for Leon Zimmerman and Jane Zimmerman to arrive.
Less than ten minutes later, the doorbell rang.
I opened the door and saw Leon Zimmerman and Jane Zimmerman, along with Jane's husband, Victor Zamora. The three came in carrying fruit, their faces bright with smiles.
"Mom, we've come to see you!" Jane said with a smile while changing her shoes, but her eyes kept scanning the room.
I knew they were looking for someone else inside.
"Please, have a seat. Would you like something to drink?" I poured three cups of tea and placed them in front of them.
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