"Elowen, why did you insist on having me switch the painkiller for a labor-inducing drug? You knew that this particular drug would damage her internal organs and now Callista can’t even produce milk. Don’t you think this has gone too far?"
"I wanted to make sure she couldn’t produce milk. How could I let my and Maya’s child drink her milk? What if the baby developed feelings for her instead? I absolutely won’t allow that to happen."
Scalding tears slid down my cheeks as my grip on the bed’s edge tightened so much that my fingers turned white.
No wonder the so-called painkiller had only intensified the agony. It had been a labor-inducing drug all along.
I glanced down at my chest. It was dry, sagging slightly, with no sign of milk production, completely unlike a mother who had just given birth.
"Maya has already chosen a name for our daughter, Yasha. Anyway, I won’t stay long. Maya is waiting to see the baby. I’ll let Callista take a quick look before taking the child to her."
Elowen’s voice rang out again as the door swung open. He walked in, holding a newborn in his arms.
Seeing that I was already awake, Elowen gazed at me tenderly and gently placed the baby in front of me.
"Baby, you've worked so hard. Our family has welcomed another little one. Look at this tiny face, it looks so much like you. I've already decided on a name for our baby. Let's call her Yasha. It suits her perfectly."
I stared at Yasha’s face, one that resembled both Elowen and Maya but bore no trace of me. The irony was almost laughable. I had endured nine months of pregnancy, risked my life in childbirth, yet the child I brought into this world belonged to Elowen and another woman.
And my real children? The ones who should have been mine? They had all been killed by Elowen’s own hands.
Before long, he used the excuse that my body had been weakened by multiple miscarriages and couldn’t produce milk, saying the baby had to be sent to a specialized nursery for care. He promised to bring me to see her once I recovered.
I said nothing. I simply nodded numbly. This child wasn’t mine. I had no reason to keep her by my side.
Seeing the hopelessness in my expression, Elowen’s eyes flickered with a strange emotion.
I knew it was the fleeting guilt of a man whose conscience had momentarily awakened after committing a heartless act.
Not long after Elowen left, I received a friend request and I instantly recognized it was Maya because her profile picture was a photo of herself holding a small white dog.
I found the dog quite familiar and instinctively opened Elowen’s Instagram account. I discovered his profile picture was the same dog, cropped from the photo of Maya.
No wonder such a proud person like Elowen would use a dog as his profile picture for five years. It was to match with Maya’s profile picture.
