Reborn in Textile Mill, Tearing Apart Wicked Mother-in-Law and Boss's Daughter

In my last life, I clutched the proof that my husband was carrying on with the mill director's daughter and rushed to the factory gate, certain I could get justice. But they called me a madwoman. They said I was loose, immoral. I was sent to a psychiatric hospital, and in the end I died on a cold hospital bed, my eyes refusing to close. When I opened them again, I had been reborn, still clutching that crumpled piece of proof in my hand.