Twice-Lived, Double-Souled

The smell of disinfectant burned in my nose as I sat in the prenatal checkup department, my hands clenched tightly on the hem of my clothes. Suddenly, a cold voice erupted in my head, out of nowhere. "The baby in your belly isn't your husband's. It's his and that other woman's." I snapped my head up and looked around. In the department, there were only the doctor and nurses; nobody said a word. "Don't bother looking, only you can hear me." That voice came again, with a strange, chilling certainty. My heart was pounding wildly, and my fingertips started to go numb. My husband and that woman? They might be close, but how could that be... "If you don't believe me, go ask, or just get rid of the baby to avoid future shame." The voice kept playing tricks on me. My mind was a total mess; I couldn't think straight at all. That afternoon, I snuck into the abortion procedure room all by myself, without telling my husband. Lying on that cold operating table, I kept replaying what that voice said—I didn't hesitate for a second. On the fifth day after the surgery, I was tidying up at home and accidentally saw my husband's phone. His chat history with his female friend stopped about two weeks ago, and it was all work talk—no flirting or anything shady. I froze, a chill creeping up from the soles of my feet. Just then, my husband pushed open the door. Seeing me holding his phone and my pale face, he instantly understood what was going on. "Are you sure you didn't misunderstand something?" He rushed over, his voice thick with panic. "The baby..." I opened my mouth, my voice husky, "I had an abortion." My husband's eyes instantly turned red. He grabbed my shoulders so hard it felt like he might crush my bones. "Why would you do that? We've been waiting for this baby for so long!" "I heard a voice... saying the baby isn't yours." I kept my head down, too afraid to look him in the eyes. "A voice? What voice?" His voice was filled with disbelief, "Do you know that because you suddenly went for an abortion, the company lost their order worth several billion? They think our family is unstable and refused to cooperate!" I suddenly looked up, my heart pounding like it'd been hit with a heavy hammer. An order worth several billion? Just because of one mistake I made, it's gone? The days that followed felt like a nightmare. People at work were pointing fingers at me, and online there were nonstop insults—calling me crazy, saying I ruined my husband's career and even killed my own child. My husband moved into the company and never came back home. A month later, the divorce papers were left right in front of me. "I can't live with you anymore." There wasn't a single bit of warmth in his voice. I signed the papers, watching him turn and walk away, his back cold and decided. That night, I stood on the balcony, the darkness stretching endlessly below me. The voice in my head kept mocking me: "See? You've lost everything." I closed my eyes and jumped. The wind roared past my ears, and in the last moment before I lost consciousness, I had just one thought: if I could do it all over again, I definitely wouldn't believe that voice.