My ex and I were in a bitter custody battle for our son. In my first life, when the judge asked our son, he stayed silent. But I heard his thoughts: I just want to be with Mom! I fought and won custody. Soon after, I was reported for abuse. My son told the police, crying, “I want to live with Dad, but Mommy hits me!” His body was covered in marks. Mark, my ex, screamed at me: “I heard his thoughts in court! He wanted to be with me! Are you even human?” I couldn’t defend myself. I spent the rest of my life in a psychiatric hospital. In my second life, I gave custody to Mark, even though I heard my son’s thoughts again. Years later, on Mark’s deathbed, he whispered, “It was our son… he poisoned me. He said he just wanted to live with you. He hated me for taking him from you.” Now, a third time, I’m facing my young son again. Mark and I exchange a lost look. This little hot potato—who does he really want? 1 “I wish I could live with Mom! I don’t want to leave her.” The familiar words echoed in my mind. I shuddered. This was the third time I’d heard them. I looked into my son’s hopeful eyes, but the words I wanted to say were caught in my throat. The judge asked my son, Leo, again for his preference. Leo bit his lip, refusing to speak. Then, I heard his thoughts again. Dad will get mad if I say it, right? I wish Mom would just choose me. It was exactly like the first time. Leo wouldn’t say a word, but I could hear his inner voice perfectly. In my first life, even though my financial situation was worse than Mark's, I had promised I would never remarry or have other children. The judge was moved and granted me custody. To make up for his absent father, I poured every ounce of my time and energy into Leo. I gave him the best of everything. But all my devotion earned me was an accusation of “child abuse” and my son’s heart-wrenching screams. “I hate Mommy! I wanted to live with Dad from the start, but she wouldn’t let me!” The memory of my first life was still seared into my mind. I wasn’t going through that again. I pretended not to see his pleading eyes and turned my head away. The judge sighed. “In that case, the court will decide based on which parent can provide a more stable and…” “No!” Mark’s voice boomed through the courtroom. “I object!” The judge frowned, annoyed. Mark struggled to compose himself. “I request a recess! We need to discuss this privately.” The judge agreed. Ten-minute recess. Mark dragged me into a side room and got straight to the point. “You’ve been reborn too, haven’t you?” When I nodded, Mark cursed under his breath. “Last time, his thoughts told me he wanted to live with me. He said you were mean to him. That’s why I fought so hard to get custody.” I nodded slowly. “What I heard was the exact opposite.” Mark stared at me, his expression a mixture of confusion and dread. 2 “Maybe… you should take him,” Mark said, his voice strained. “In my last life, he wanted to be with you. He even poisoned me with a slow-acting toxin to make it happen.” Remembering my own tragic end, a shiver ran down my spine. “No, thank you. I have no desire to end up back in a psychiatric hospital.” Mark looked completely bewildered. “What happened to our son? Who does he actually want to be with?” I had no answer. He was only ten. How could he harbor such deep-seated malice toward us overnight? Our time was up. We had to return to the courtroom. When the judge asked if we had reached a decision, we both shook our heads. The judge adjusted his glasses, his displeasure obvious. “Let me be clear. Even if you divorce, a minor under the age of eighteen requires a legal guardian. This is a parent’s legal obligation. Anything else is considered abandonment…” “You must make a choice. Who will be the primary caregiver?” In that instant, a child’s voice flooded my mind again. Mommy, I choose you! I want to be with Mommy! I shot a look at Mark. Our eyes met. From his expression, I knew. He had just heard our son’s voice saying he wanted to be with him. We both turned to look at Leo and spoke in unison. “Leo, who do you choose?! Mom or Dad?!” Leo froze, clearly not expecting us to confront him so directly. He looked lost. I softened my tone as much as I could. “Leo, you have to choose one of us. We won’t be angry, no matter who you pick.” Mark chimed in, “That’s right! Just say what’s on your mind!” Under our intense gaze, Leo’s face turned bright red. His lip trembled, and then he burst into tears. “I don’t want to choose! I want our family to stay together forever!” His outburst derailed our interrogation. Murmurs broke out among the onlookers in the courtroom. “What’s wrong with these two? Weren’t they fighting over him just a minute ago? Now it looks like neither of them wants him.” “Exactly. The parents divorce, and the child suffers. Look at him crying his heart out. It’s a tragedy.” Everyone was judging us. Watching my son’s crumpled, tear-stained face, my heart softened, despite knowing what happened in our past lives. A mother’s instinct is hard to ignore. Mark and I quickly agreed to request a postponement. The next hearing was set for five days later. Reluctantly, we went back to living under the same roof. Once Leo had cried himself to sleep, we sat down to talk. “What if he still won’t choose in five days?” Mark sighed, running a hand through his hair. “And what about his thoughts? I asked around. It seems we’re the only two who can hear them. And we hear completely opposite things.” I was just as confused. “But what’s the point of all this? Who does he actually want to be with? Both my parents and yours are gone. There’s no one else who can take custody.” I thought back to the sweet, considerate boy Leo had always been. Even his first-place essay in the school competition was titled “My Favorite Mom.” Who would believe that this “perfect child” could frame his own mother and have her committed? Just thinking about it made my heart ache. 3 What was he thinking? Was our divorce really that devastating for him? Suddenly, an idea struck me. “I know who can help us!” The next morning, I called the school to excuse Leo from class and took him to the hospital where my best friend, Linda, worked. Mark frowned, whispering, “Are you sure this will work?” I wasn’t certain either. “It’s worth a shot. Linda said this is the best child psychologist in the city. He uses hypnosis to access the subconscious.” “If this doesn’t work, I don’t know what will.” I squeezed Leo’s hand and spoke softly. “Leo, sweetie, this is just a little check-up. Just listen to what the doctor says, okay?” Leo eyed the medical equipment warily. “Mommy, I’m not sick. I don’t want a check-up. I want to go home!” His fearful expression made my heart ache. But the memory of my past lives hardened my resolve. “Dad and I will be right here with you,” I said sternly. “Be a good boy.” I nodded to the psychologist, signaling him to begin. No matter how much Leo resisted, he was still just a ten-year-old boy. With the doctor’s gentle guidance, he soon fell into a deep sleep. The psychologist spoke in a calm, quiet voice. “Leo, what is the one wish you want most in the world right now?” Leo’s eyes remained closed. “I want my family to be together forever. I don’t want us to separate.” Mark and I were speechless. The doctor continued. “Leo, can you tell me about your happiest memory? Can you describe it for me?” On the recliner, a small smile touched Leo’s lips. “I was with Mom and Dad. We went to the amusement park…” My eyes started to burn. All this time, we had been so guarded, treating him like the monster who had destroyed our lives. We never stopped to think that he was just a ten-year-old kid whose happiest memory was a simple trip to an amusement park with his parents. Beside me, Mark swallowed hard. He was clearly thinking the same thing. “Dad was wearing a suit, and Mom was in a red dress. She had long, curly hair, and she was so beautiful…” Wait. My entire body went rigid. I locked eyes with Mark, and I saw the same shock and terror reflected in his. Mark’s voice was a choked whisper. “How is that possible? I was with Sophia for over a decade. She’s always had short hair!” 4 I bit my lip so hard I could taste blood. My legs felt weak. I’ve always found long hair to be a hassle. For years, I’ve kept it short. The mother in his happiest memory wasn’t me. But if it wasn’t me, then who was it? The room started to spin. Mark reached out and steadied me. My reaction was so extreme that Linda had the doctor end the session early. She looked at me with concern. “Are you okay? Don’t overthink it. It’s normal for kids’ memories to get mixed up sometimes.” “Maybe he saw a cartoon or something when he was little and imagined it. Don’t take it to heart.” I shook my head. What he described was too specific to be a fantasy. Mark’s face was grim. I closed my eyes, made a decision, and turned to my friend. “Linda, I need you to run a DNA test for me. For me, Mark, and Leo.” Linda stared at me, shocked. “Are you insane? Just because of one sentence, you’re questioning if Leo is even your son?” Mark gritted his teeth. “Yes! We need to do it!” Seeing how determined we were, Linda’s expression turned serious. “Okay. I’ll put a rush on it for you. We should have the results this afternoon.” Mark and I took Leo home, our minds heavy with dread. Leo seemed fine. After dinner, he begged Mark to play video games with him. While he was distracted, I decided to test him. “Leo, who was the person at the amusement park in the red dress with long, curly hair?” Absorbed in his game, he answered without thinking. “It was Mom!” The words had barely left his mouth before he realized his mistake and clamped his mouth shut. My voice rose, filled with a frantic edge. “Leo! Think carefully! When has Mommy ever had long hair?!” He looked terrified. A second later, he burst into tears. Mark rushed over and pulled me aside. “Sophia, calm down! You’re scaring him!” I knew I was losing control, but after everything that had happened, how could I not? I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself, when a small, timid voice called out. “Mommy…” Leo was holding up a photo album. “This is you with long hair. Don’t you remember?” I looked at the picture, and my eyes instantly filled with tears. Of course! It was a photo from his kindergarten graduation. All the parents were asked to dress up as fairytale characters. I had worn a wig and a princess costume to attend with Mark. That day, we had promised to take him to the amusement park for the whole day. But not long after we got there, both of us got urgent work calls and had to leave. I never imagined he would remember it for so long. A broken promise, a canceled trip, had somehow become the happiest moment of his life. Mark and I both hung our heads in shame, overwhelmed with guilt for being such inadequate parents. Just then, my phone rang. It was Linda with the DNA results. The report on my screen was unequivocal: the probability of our biological relationship with Leo was >99%. After Leo went to bed, Mark’s voice was thick with emotion. “We’ve failed him so badly. Maybe he was just trying to keep us from splitting up.” I didn’t say anything, but I felt the same. No matter what, he was our son. The thought of him turning into the person from our past lives was heartbreaking. If a child goes wrong, it’s always the parents’ fault. Mark and I found a rare moment of peace, looking through old photo albums together. We saw pictures of him as a newborn, learning to crawl, taking his first steps. The joy and pride of being parents washed over us. But when I turned to the next page, something clicked. “Wait!” My eyes widened in horror. I was shaking so hard I dropped the album. A terrifying thought was forming in my mind. I slowly turned to Mark, my voice trembling. “I think… the person he wants to live with isn’t you or me.” “The person who truly wants custody of him… is someone else.” Mark looked at me, completely confused. I didn’t explain further. “I think I know what’s going on. If you don’t want to end up like last time, you need to trust me.”
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