The Researcher with the Broken Finger

1
The day my wife was welcomed back by her wealthy family, I was packing my bags.
She saw me and frowned. Leave it. I'm only taking Julian and Mia. You can stay here in the Warrens.
I'll give you five hundred a month for expenses, she added, her voice devoid of warmth. And I'll let you see Mia from time to time.
I nodded calmly, without a fight.
I already knew. She was always going to choose her childhood sweetheart and take my daughter with them.
In my last life, I threw a fit and begged to go with them to the Hawthorne estate. I thought I could finally live a comfortable life.
Instead, I was framed for theft by Julian.
Then, my own daughter tricked me, luring me to the eighteenth-floor balcony before pushing me off. I remember her red-rimmed eyes as she screamed, her voice raw with hatred.
"I don't want a thief for a father! If you hadn't insisted on coming, I would have had a better dad by now!"
In that moment, a chill colder than death consumed me.
Then, I opened my eyes. I was reborn.
A text message glowed on my phone's screen, a notification from a classified national research agency.
Mr. Jacob Levy, congratulations. You have been officially recruited. Please be advised: upon entry, all contact with external persons is forbidden for a period of five years.
I had two days left. Two days until I could dedicate myself to my country and leave this life behind.
But that night, as I hid out in my new rental, the door was kicked open.
Isabella Hawthorne stood in the doorway, her white designer suit soaked by the rain, her expression as dark and stormy as the sky. Behind her, holding an umbrella, was Julian. And holding Julian's hand was my daughter, Mia.
Julians voice was thick with false indignation. "Jacob, I know you're upset, but you can't just steal my mother's heirloom. That necklace is the only thing I have left of her"
His words struck me like a bolt of lightning, and the blood in my veins turned to ice.
I realized with dawning horror that this was exactly how it started last time.
My hands trembled as I tried to stop them, but the bodyguards were already tearing my apartment apart. From a hidden pocket inside my suitcase, one of them pulled out a silver necklace.
Isabella held it up, her eyes filled with a disgust so potent it felt like it was flaying me alive. My body went cold. I understood everything in that instant.
"Impossible" I whispered.
It was Julian.
In this life, just like the last, he had laid the perfect trap to make me a pariah in everyone's eyes.
"Caught red-handed," Isabella's voice was sharp as glass. "Jacob, for the sake of our marriage, I'll give you one chance to confess."
Confess?
I lifted my head, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall. I was so close. Two more days and my life would have been completely different.
"I have nothing to confess," I said, each word a struggle.
Her fury blazed hotter. She barked an order to the men at the door. "Then help him remember his place!"
Two hulking figures stormed in, grabbing my arms in a vicelike grip. One of them forced my head down, the immense pressure forcing me to bow before Julian.
"Kneel and repent!" Isabellas voice rained down on me from above.
I clenched my jaw, resisting with every ounce of strength I had left. "It wasn't me! Isabella, I won't do it!"
But the bodyguards hand was like an iron clamp. He slammed my head against the floor.
Crack!
A searing pain shot through my forehead as it met the rough concrete.
"Apologize," Isabella commanded.
"No" I gasped.
Crack!
Another slam, harder this time. I felt a warm trickle of blood run down my face.
Mias voice, choked with tears, pierced the air. "Daddy, just say you did it! Please, I'm scared"
My daughters plea was a knife in my heart. She had no idea that every time she called me "Daddy," she was carving another piece out of my shattered soul. In my last life, when she pushed me from that rooftop, I died never understanding why the daughter I had adored for ten years would trust a man she barely knew over me.
Isabella's tone was laced with scorn. "See? Even your own daughter is ashamed of you."
Crack! The third blow.
My vision began to blur. Blood and sweat mingled, dripping onto the cold floor.
Julian made a show of intervening. "Bella, that's enough Maybe Jacob was just confused"
"Confused? He's pathologically stubborn!"
The guard grabbed my head again. I used my last bit of strength to look up, my eyes locked on Julian. "I did nothing wrong!"
That was the last straw for Isabella. "Still talking back?! Keep going! Don't stop until he admits what he did!"
Just then, Mia rushed forward and kicked my shoulder with all her might. "You're a thief! You're not my daddy anymore! I don't love you!"
The kick itself was weak, but it froze me to the core. I stopped struggling.
My own daughter. While I was being framed, while my head was being smashed against the floor, she didn't believe me. She came to add her own blow.
So this is what it feels like for a heart to die.
Even Isabella seemed taken aback by Mia's action. She waved a hand, and the bodyguards released me. I collapsed onto the floor, a broken heap, blood flowing freely from my forehead.
She walked over to me, rain dripping from the ends of her hair. "Jacob, for Mia's sake, if you apologize to Julian right now, I'll let this go."
I looked up, my vision blurred by blood, and stared at her. At the innocent-looking man behind her. And at the daughter who looked at me like I was a stranger.
A bloody smile stretched across my lips.
"I did nothing wrong."
"And I will never apologize to Julian!" I spat the last words out, my gaze fixed on him.
Isabella's face contorted in a mask of rage. "Stubborn fool! Drag him outside! He can kneel in the rain until hes ready to confess!"
I was hauled out into the yard and thrown into the cold, muddy water. The torrential downpour washed over the gash on my forehead, the pain sharp and biting.
From behind me, I heard Julian's gentle voice. "Bella, the rain's so heavy. Maybe we should let him come inside"
And Mia's childish question. "Mommy, when is the thief going to say he's sorry?"
Followed by Isabellas cold reply. "He brought this on himself."
A thief? Brought this on myself?
The pain in my body was nothing compared to the agony in my soul. The voices faded as the world dissolved into blackness.
The stinging smell of antiseptic filled my nostrils. I drifted back to consciousness, pulled by a wave of excruciating pain. The ceiling above was the sterile white of a hospital. My gaze shifted to find several stone-faced bodyguards in black suits standing around my bed like sentinels.
"You're awake?" a cold voice asked.
I slowly turned my head. Isabella stood by my bedside, her face a thundercloud of fury. In her hand was the necklace, but her eyes held no warmth, only judgment and disgust.
She held it up. "Jacob, I'm going to ask you one last time. Where did you hide the real heirloom from Julian's mother? This one is a fake."
A fake?
My pupils constricted. I understood instantly.
Julian! That venomous bastard!
He used a fake to seal my fate as a thief. Whether I confessed or not, he had another trap waiting. The real necklace was probably long gone, hidden or destroyed. He didn't just want to ruin my name; he wanted to ensure I could never recover.
My throat was parched and raw. "I didn't take it," I rasped.
My heart felt like it was being crushed by an invisible hand, squeezing the very air from my lungs. Why? Why, even with a second chance, was I still trapped in this nightmare of false accusations?
Isabella stared at me, trying to gauge if I was lying. After a moment, the last shred of patience in her eyes vanished, replaced by bitter disappointment and a chilling cruelty.
"It seems you won't talk unless we use more persuasive methods."
She took a step back and gave a cold command to her men. "A thief doesn't deserve to keep his hands. Since he won't give it back, break his fingers, one by one. We're in a hospital. He won't die."
My eyes widened in disbelief.
She was going to break my fingers?
No! She couldn't!
I struggled, but the bodyguards held me down. I couldn't lose my hands! The National Defense Research Agency! My future! All my hopes of escaping this hell were pinned on those handshands meant for delicate instruments and life-changing experiments! Without them, I was finished!
"Isabella! You can't!" I screamed, desperation clawing at my sanity. "I didn't steal anything! I didn't"
She just watched, her expression unchanging, as if watching a silent movie that had nothing to do with her.
One of the guards grabbed my left hand, his thick fingers closing around my index finger.
"NO!" My shriek tore through the silence of the room.
SNAP!
The sharp crack of bone was followed by a white-hot agony that made my vision go black. I almost passed out from the pain.
Pain. Indescribable pain.
But it was nothing, not even a fraction of the agony consuming my heart. I looked at the woman I had loved with every fiber of my being for ten years, at her beautiful, merciless profile, and a poisonous vine of hatred began to grow, twisting and choking everything inside me.
I hated her. But I hated myself more. How could I have been so blind? How could I have fallen for this cold, cruel woman who couldn't see the truth right in front of her?
To protect her fragile ego, Id hidden my degrees from a top university, content to play the role of a simple man, letting her believe I was nothing special. Ten years of sacrifice, ten years of my life, all for this.
I regretted it.
I truly, deeply regretted ever loving her.
SNAP!
The second finger broke.
"Argh!" My body convulsed, and a cold sweat drenched my hospital gown.
Isabella stood there, expressionless, but I caught a glimpse of her hand, clenched at her side, her knuckles white.
Does it hurt you, Isabella? Does it hurt to watch? Because its nothing compared to what youve done to me.
SNAP! SNAP!
The third. The fourth
Pain washed over me in relentless waves, threatening to drown my consciousness. I bit down hard on my lip, the metallic taste of blood filling my mouth, but I refused to confess to a crime I didn't commit.
One, two, three When the four fingers on my left hand were bent at unnatural angles, the guard moved to my right.
Despair, cold and absolute, submerged me completely. My future, my dreams, were shattering before my very eyes.
SNAP!
By the time the ninth finger was broken, I didn't even have the strength to scream. I lay on the bed like a dying fish, the shallow rise and fall of my chest the only sign I was still alive.
Nine of my ten fingers, shattered. My life, shattered along with them.
Through it all, I never confessed.
Isabella looked at my pathetic state, soaked in blood and tears, at my grotesquely swollen and misshapen hands. Her face went pale for a second.
She turned away sharply, her voice catching almost imperceptibly. "Get the doctor. Set his fingers."
With that, she fled the room, never looking back.
Doctors and nurses rushed in, their hands trembling as they tended to my wounds, resetting and splinting my broken fingers. The pain was so intense I kept passing out, only to be jolted awake again. In the end, they put an oxygen mask on me just to keep me breathing.
I was a broken doll on a cold hospital bed, my consciousness fading in and out. Hate, regret, and despair warred within me, threatening to tear me apart. Why did I ever meet her? Why did I let my life be destroyed by a woman like this?
Late that night, the door to my room creaked open. Two figures, one large and one small, slipped silently to my bedside.
It was Julian, and my daughter, Mia.
My mind was a fog, but I could feel their presence.
Julians voice was a venomous whisper. "Look at your daddy, Mia. So pathetic. Wouldn't you rather have me as your new daddy? I'll buy you all the pretty dresses you want, take you to amusement parks, make you the happiest little princess in the world."
My heart seized.
And then I heard the answer that would haunt me for the rest of my life, and the one before it.
Mias childish voice chirped without a hint of hesitation, full of excitement. "Yes! I want you to be my daddy, Uncle Julian!"
In that moment, what was left of my heart turned to ash.
Julian chuckled, pleased. "But, Mia, as long as your old daddy is still around, I can't really be your new one."
He paused, his voice slithering like a snake. "See that mask on his face? He looks like he's having a hard time breathing. Be a good girl and help him take it off. Then he won't be in pain anymore, and I can be your daddy forever, okay?"
My eyes shot open!
Through my blurry vision, I saw Mias innocent little face. She looked from Julian to me, and then she reached out her small hand, reaching for my oxygen mask.
"Bad daddy!" she muttered, her voice filled with a programmed hatred. "You're a thief! I don't want you anymore!"
As her little hand closed around the lifeline that was keeping me alive, as I saw the pure disgust in her eyes, the last ounce of fight left me.
My soul was a dead, empty wasteland.
So this was it. Even reborn, I couldn't escape my fate. I was destined to die at their hands. And this time, it was so much more humiliating, so much more hopeless.
I felt the tug on the mask, and my breath caught in my chest.
I'm dying.
And this time, I probably won't be coming back

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