Part 1The Pregnancy Curse

After I got pregnant, my boyfriend’s grandmother smashed her head against a wall and died in front of me, leaving behind a secret.

Everyone who learned that secret is now dead.

First, my boyfriend’s father. Then, his mother. Finally, my boyfriend swallowed a bottle of pills and died right before my eyes.

The media dug into the story like a pack of rabid dogs. The police hauled me in for questioning again and again. An army of online trolls descended upon me.

Everyone wanted to know the secret. They said I had cursed his entire family, that I had killed them all just to keep the secret for myself.

I never defended myself. I remained silent.

Until the seventh day after my boyfriend’s death. At his funeral, I saw someone in the crowd.

In that moment, I stroked my swelling belly, my heart as still as a frozen lake.

It was time for my baby and me to die, too.

…

* * *

After I found out I was pregnant, my boyfriend, Jason, took me home to meet his family.

The moment his grandmother saw my baby bump, she let out a piercing wail and smashed her head against the living room wall.

Blood splattered across the plaster. She didn't die instantly.

But what was truly terrifying was the look in her eyes. They were wide with a horror so profound that tears of blood began to seep from the corners. Her once-kind face was a mask of pure terror, as if she were staring at something unspeakable.

It was a grotesque sight.

Jason’s mother fainted several times. His father cradled the dying woman in his arms, his body wracked with sobs. A neighbor, drawn by the commotion, gently pointed out that his grandmother seemed to be trying to say something.

We all fell silent, straining to hear her last words.

In the end, only his father heard them. She whispered a secret to him, and then her last breath escaped.

His father’s face twisted in horror, his hands trembling as he held her body. He let out a shattered cry, “This is a death sentence!”

His reaction sent a chill through all of us. His wife rushed to his side, her voice a hushed whisper. “Honey, what did she say?”

He gave us all a long, hollow look, then shoved her away. Before anyone could react, he threw himself at the same wall.

Blood pooled on the floor as he collapsed over his mother’s body. And his final expression was the same as hers: pure, unadulterated terror.

As he lay dying, his wife begged him to hold on, screaming that the ambulance was on its way. But when she heard his final, whispered words, her face went ashen. She hung up the emergency call.

After that, she refused to speak of it. No matter who asked, no matter how hard the police pressed, she never uttered a word about their final secret.

After the funeral for his grandmother and father, Jason seemed to age a decade overnight. He looked at his mother, his voice drained of all life.

“What was the secret Grandma told you? Why did Dad kill himself right after hearing it?”

His mother stroked an old family photo, silent tears tracing paths down her cheeks. “Don’t ask. There is no secret.”

“Your grandmother and father… their deaths were just a tragic accident. Don’t overthink it.”

Jason’s voice was raw, cracking with grief. “That was my dad! That was the grandmother who raised me! I watched them kill themselves! How can I do nothing?”

“At least tell me why!”

My heart ached for him. I tried to help, speaking gently to his mother. “Ma’am, they died right in front of us. How can we just move on? They died right after learning that secret. And you heard it too. We’re worried about you…”

I knew my words were clumsy, but my fear for her was real. Before I could finish, she cut me off, her voice like stone.

She hurled the family photo to the floor, shattering the glass. Her eyes were bloodshot, her gaze fixed on me, filled with a sudden, searing hatred. “I told you, there is no secret! You two couldn’t control yourselves, getting pregnant before you were married! You shamed them to death! Are you happy now?”

The mention of their deaths brought fresh tears, and it was clear her grief was deeper than anyone’s. But just as quickly, she composed herself, taking a deep breath and apologizing.

“I’m sorry. I’m just… overwrought. I didn’t mean that.”

“His grandmother and father both had underlying health conditions. The economy has been tough these last few years. Maybe they just didn’t want to be a burden on you two.”

“That’s enough,” she said, her tone final. “Suicide is a shameful thing. We will not speak of this again.”

Her attitude was a wall of ice. No matter how much we pleaded, she refused to say another word.

But a deep unease settled in my heart. I rested a trembling hand on my belly. I had to know why his grandmother, who had always been so fond of me, would choose to end her life the moment she learned I was carrying her great-grandchild.

I had to know her secret.