When I was reborn and returned to the day my son was born, the first thing I did was wrap up all the table corners and lock up the ruler.
In my last life, I accidentally killed him.
In this life, I hold him like a fragile dream, and every movement carries the blood of my previous life.
I thought I was the only one who remembered that tragedy.
Until I discovered that my infant son looked at me with the vigilance of a fifteen-year-old.
He was also pretending to sleep.
We were both waiting for the other to make the first move.
Looking at the young father,
I don't know what will happen to me in the future.
