My Husband Killed His Own Son Thinking It Was Mine Chapter 1

The New Year's Day family gathering. The kids convinced my son to wear the bulky Red Pony costume.

They rode him, kicked and beat him, and finally buried him alive in a snowdrift.

I went hysterical, screaming for someone to call the police, only to have my relatives accuse me of harming my own child.

My husband stood right there, trying to talk me down.

"Just sign the waiver, Amy. It was an accident. We can't let the kids face charges and ruin their futures."

After they successfully framed me, I broke. I remember walking into traffic and the sudden, blinding impact.

The next time I opened my eyes, I was back. Back to New Year's Day.

I immediately called my mom, urging her to come get my son.

"Leo, you're sleeping at Grandma's tonight. Don't come back."

They had just cleared the gates of our Stone Creek Estates community when I turned and saw the red pony costume.

My heart seized. I scanned the yard.

All the cousins, my in-laws’ children, were accounted for. Every one of them was here.

So, the costume that had appeared out of thin air... who was inside it?

* * *

The pony costume staggered forward, and a muffled voice called out.

"Daddy."

I whipped my head around. The costume was facing my husband, Ryan Foster, who was standing with a few male relatives, smoking and laughing.

I quickly checked the yard again.

My sister-in-law Savannah's son was building a snowman, my Aunt Carol's twins were having a snowball fight, and the others were playing in small groups. All accounted for.

Did... did Leo sneak back home?

The thought sent a shudder of icy terror through me.

"No, no," I whispered to myself, fumbling for the phone in my pocket.

I had to call my mother, to be sure.

Suddenly, a large hand shot out and snatched the phone away.

"The guests are here, Amy. What are you doing, standing around like a ghost?"

Ryan had walked up behind me without me noticing.

"Go greet people. Did you check on the stew in the kitchen?"

I was about to speak when my sister-in-law, Savannah, hooked her arm through mine, leaning in with a sickeningly familiar intimacy.

"Hey, sis. Come inside for a minute. I need to talk to you, just a heart-to-heart."

This was too familiar.

In the last life, Savannah had used this exact "heart-to-heart" excuse to lure me into a guest room and lock me in for nearly an hour.

When I finally got out, I only saw the children throwing snowballs at the snowman. My son, trapped inside that red costume, was already dead.

That memory ripped through me. I violently yanked my arm free from Savannah and bolted toward the pony costume.

But before I could take two steps, Aunt Carol and two other female relatives closed ranks around me.

"Whoa, Amy, what's with the attitude?"

Aunt Carol’s heavy frame blocked my path. She smiled, though her eyes were hard.

"Savannah wants to chat, and you’re acting like this?"

"Seriously, it’s New Year's. We rarely get the whole family together," Tiffany, my cousin-in-law, grabbed my other arm.

"Come on, let's go inside and catch up. It’s freezing out here."

They were a human wall, pushing me back toward the house.

I struggled, but the combined strength of the three women made me completely immobile.

I twisted my head back toward the yard. The children had surrounded the pony costume.

"Ride the pony! Ride the pony!"

Savannah's son shouted the words first. Several boys rushed the clumsy costume, shoving it down onto the snow, then climbing on top.

One, two, three... they all piled on.

The costume struggled feebly in the snow, unable to get up.

"Stop it!"

I shrieked, shoving Aunt Carol out of the way with every ounce of strength I had.

"Get off! All of you! You're going to hurt him!"

Ryan intercepted me, his expression annoyed.

"They're just playing, Amy. Why are you making such a big deal out of nothing?"

"It's a holiday, don't be a buzzkill."

My mother-in-law, Helen, walked over, her face set in a frown.

"Let Leo play with his cousins. It’s for his own good; he needs to integrate into this family. If you hover like this, how will he ever bond with his extended family?"

"That's not..."

I wanted to scream that wasn't my son, but the two sisters-in-law were now 'supporting' me, one on each side.

They were smiling, but their grips were firm and painful, and they steered me back inside, forcing me down onto the living room sofa.

"Just relax, Amy. Take a seat."

I was breathing hard, not from effort, but from sheer terror.

The current scene was a perfect, chilling echo of the last life.

The same blocks, the same excuses.

I forced myself to calm down. I retrieved my phone and quickly typed a message.

"Mom, where are you and Leo now?"

A moment later, my mother replied.

I tapped the voice note and held the phone to my ear.

It was Leo’s voice.

"Mommy! Grandma and I just got home!"

"Grandma says she's making dumplings tonight! When are you coming back?"

I slumped back against the sofa, relief washing over me in a dizzying wave.

Thank God. It wasn't my son in the costume.

But then, who was lying out there in the snow?