Part 2The Pregnancy Curse

Jason was even more desperate to know the secret than I was.

On the seventh day after his father’s death, his mother drank herself into a stupor. As she slurred and stumbled around the house, Jason saw his chance.

He coaxed the secret from her lips.

Her voice was so low he had to lean in close to hear. But the moment he understood, his face contorted into the same look of pure terror I had seen on his father and grandmother.

Watching him, a cold dread washed over me. I rushed to his side. “What is it? What’s the secret? Why do you and your mom look so horrified?”

He didn’t answer. He just stood there, shell-shocked, holding his mother up.

Frantic, I tried to get closer to his mother, to hear for myself.

But Jason’s reaction was even more shocking.

Tears streamed down his face, his expression one of pure, helpless panic. And then, he shoved me, forcing me away from his mother.

I was furious. “I’m pregnant! What are you doing, pushing me?”

“What did she say? Why are you hiding it from me?”

No matter how I demanded, he refused to answer. He just looked at me, his eyes filled with a profound sorrow. “Clara,” he whispered, “I wish you could never know this secret.”

I stood frozen, unable to comprehend what kind of secret could drive an entire family to such despair. Why did it fill them all with such terror? Why did his father choose to die the instant he learned it?

Just then, his mother seemed to sober up. Her eyes, empty and hollow, drifted toward us. A bitter, broken smile touched her lips. Slowly, it grew into a wild, maniacal laugh.

She grabbed Jason’s hand, laughing so hard that tears streamed down her face.

“Son, you were the one who had to know. Now you get to live in the same torment as me.”

I felt like I was breaking apart. How had everything gone so wrong? I had come here with gifts, excited to meet the family of the man I loved, believing our future would be one of happiness.

Jason was a good man—stable, gentle. We had been together for three years and never had a single fight. His family was just like him: warm, loving, kind. They never raised their voices. He had told me so much about me, said they were all eager to meet me. His grandmother had been especially fond of me, often sending him money to buy me gifts and reminding him to cherish me. She would even mail me local delicacies and check in on me.

But all of that shattered the moment I said, “I’m pregnant.”

His grandmother killed herself. His father followed. His mother became a hollow shell of herself, and even Jason grew distant, lost in some dark, private hell.

It felt like the entire world had turned against us.

In my darkest moments, I would wonder over and over: what was the secret she left behind?

Many people had the same question, especially after the neighbors posted the story online. The next day, bowing to public pressure, the police showed up at our door again.