I Found Out My Roommate's Secret

People whispered that a pregnant woman could transfer her bad luck away by losing her baby.

My roommate, who shared my apartment, was the one running this "lucky beads" business.

By causing a miscarriage, she believed she could change someone's fortune.

My roommate didn't just buy into this creepy game-she profited from it.

In my past life, I stumbled upon Isabella's secret and tried to stop her from going further down this dark path.

But Isabella, terrified I'd ruin her scheme, set fire to our place while I slept, burning me alive.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day I discovered her secret.

This time, I decided to let her be and wished her well.

1

"Hey... I'll make sure your luck turns around..."

I stood outside the closed door, listening to Isabella's sugary voice from inside.

"Miss Cooper, I've spent so much money on you for this moment. You know that, right?"

A man's sleazy voice echoed, sending a shiver down my spine.

Memories of my past life flooded back unbidden.

In that life, at this exact moment, I heard Isabella scream.

Thinking she was in danger, I twisted the lock and burst inside.

I saw her, belly swollen, with a man performing the so-called "lucky beads" ritual.

The man, face twisted with anger, grabbed Isabella and pinched her jaw. "Miss Cooper, is this your best friend? Is she in the lucky beads business too?"

Isabella scrambled to cover herself with a nearby blanket.

She waved me into the room while flashing the man a coy smile. "No, she's not..."

Later, I learned Isabella had been running a business called "lucky beads."

However, this wasn't the lucky beads anyone might expect.

2

Two months earlier, Isabella reached out after seeing my ad for a roommate.

She said she was from out of town, her husband stayed at his company dorm, and being pregnant and alone was tough, so she wanted someone to live with.

Her belly was slightly rounded, and she seemed fragile, so I didn't think twice. I signed a contract and let her move into the spare room.

Sometimes, when I got home from work, I heard a man's voice in her room. I assumed it was her husband visiting.

Only after I uncovered the truth did I realize Isabella was using her pregnancy for illegal activities.

She posted suggestive maternity photos on platforms like X and ins, luring in clients.

In certain circles, a rumor spread that if a pregnant woman lost her baby, the child would carry away the client's bad luck.

These babies were called "lucky beads."

Isabella specialized in this. It wasn't her first time.

In my past life, after I uncovered her secret, I naively thought she had a family and was just desperate for money.

I pleaded with her to stop, urging her to think of herself and her child.

Isabella sobbed as she begged me. "Penelope, please don't turn me in. I have no choice. My husband's salary is low, and if I don't find a way to make money, I can't raise this kid..."

"You can't do this, no matter what. If something happens to you or the baby, it's a matter of life and death."

Isabella sat in front of me, wiping tears and nodding. I thought she listened.

But the moment I turned away, she grabbed a kettle and knocked me out.

Fearing I'd expose her, she set the fire that burned me alive.

As for Isabella, she fled and kept running her "lucky beads" operation.

Thinking of my gruesome death in that life, I stood silently, listening to the sounds from her room, then turned and walked away.

This time, I wouldn't meddle. I'd let her walk her chosen path.

I wanted to see what fate awaited someone who'd do anything for money, even harm lives.

3

The next day, when I got home, the apartment reeked of sharp perfume, like someone sprayed it to cover another smell.

The living room looked normal, but a closer glance revealed a bit of cigarette ash on the floor by the coffee table.

"Penelope, you're back! Where were you last night?" Isabella emerged from her room in a tight, ultra-short skirt, her face caked with flawless makeup.

Her rounded belly was hugged by the fabric, accentuating its curve in a way that felt deliberate.

Only now, looking closely, did I realize she never acted like a typical pregnant woman.

In my past life, I just thought she liked dressing up.

I quickly looked away and said flatly, "I was at a friend's birthday party, so I didn't come home."

Isabella nodded, watching as I headed to my room. She followed.

Leaning against the doorframe, she said with an embarrassed smile, "Penelope, here's the thing... my husband's on vacation, so he might stop by more often for a few days. You don't mind, do you? But don't worry, I promise he won't stay overnight. He'll just spend a few hours with me and leave."

The memory of the voices I heard outside her door the day before hit me, and my stomach churned with nausea.

I stuffed clothes into my suitcase, answering casually, "I don't mind."

As a smile spread across Isabella's face, I looked up at her. "Oh, I forgot to mention-I'm moving out."

Isabella stared, surprised. "Moving out? You never said anything about that."

"Yeah, it was a last-minute decision. My company's sending me to handle a new project, and living here isn't convenient anymore."

I tossed out a vague excuse, my hands never stopping as I packed.

"I see..." Isabella looked disappointed. "Guess I won't have anyone to keep me company anymore."

She rubbed her belly, her expression pitiful. "Poor me, a pregnant woman all alone. If something happens, no one will even know..."

4

I gave a fake laugh in my head. Even now, she was still putting on an act.

Not only was she fine, but even if something happened to her, it had nothing to do with me.

In my past life, I might have tried to save her. Now, if she dropped dead in front of me, I'd only clap and cheer.

She was pulling this pitiful act because she had no one left to take advantage of.

When Isabella first talked to me about sharing the apartment, she played the delicate, innocent flower. But once she moved in, she never hesitated to nickel-and-dime me.

I was on business trips two-thirds of the month, so she used almost all the water and electricity. Yet she never offered to pay.

At first, she used my shampoo and body wash from the bathroom without asking. I had a thing about cleanliness, so I just gave them to her after I noticed.

Later, she even ate the pastries and bread I bought and stored in the fridge.

I let these small things slide because she was pregnant.

But I wasn't about to fall into the same trap twice. I wasn't going to be a fool again in this new life.

She killed me with her own hands and still mooched off me. Why should I let that go?

I snapped my suitcase shut and called out just as Isabella started to turn away. "Isabella."

She looked back, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Her big eyes blinked, all innocent and pitiful.

"Since I'm moving out, we should settle some accounts. It's only fair."

Her expression froze, but I kept going.

"You've been here for two months and ten days. I never split the water, electricity, or gas bills with you, but you know who's been using what. Let's say I overpaid by two hundred. Then there's the shampoo and body wash you took. They cost four hundred eighty for the set. They were three-quarters full when I gave them to you, so I'll call it three hundred. And the food you ate from the fridge? That's about four hundred total. Adds up to nine hundred. Your deposit was a thousand, so I owe you a hundred."

I pulled out my phone and sent her a hundred bucks.

Isabella stood there, stunned by my words, for a split second.

But within moments, her face twisted.

The delicate flower was gone, replaced by a venomous glare and a voice dripping with resentment. "Penelope, we've lived together this long, and I never knew you were so petty!"

I smirked faintly. "You're the one who benefited. Of course you don't care-it's not your money. What, you want to dodge the bill now?"

Isabella shot me a hateful look, grabbed her phone, and accepted the payment with a snarl. "Whatever!"

Before I left with my things, I glanced at her swollen belly.

"You're pretty far along. You should take better care of yourself. Something could go wrong."

Isabella plopped onto the couch, clutching her stomach and texting. "Mind your own business. Moving around is good for..."

She stopped mid-sentence, like she remembered something. "Just go already."

I shut the door behind me and let out a cold laugh.

A person's fate should match their choices.

I shouldn't have said anything.

Kind words can't save someone hell-bent on destruction. I needed to burn that lesson into my brain.

Since she loved her "lucky beads" so much, I'd see if she ended up taking on all that bad luck herself.