3: 3
I froze.
I looked down at the eggs in the bowl. If these weren't goose eggs, what were they?
More of her fear-mongering nonsense.
Anger flared. I snapped a photo and sent it back, demanding an answer.
"Take a good look. If these aren't goose eggs, what are they?"
Camille replied almost instantly.
"Priscilla, I'm not lying to you. You really can't eat any more of them..."
"Once that blood-red line on your belly climbs to your heart, not even a god could save you!"
"If you don't believe me, give the eggs to your mother-in-law or your husband. See if they dare eat them!"
Then she hung up.
My mind churned. After what she'd said, I couldn't swallow the egg in my mouth no matter how I tried.
I hesitated a moment, then carried the bowl out to the living room.
My mother-in-law was clearing away the dishes. When she saw the leftovers in my bowl, the smile froze on her face.
"Priscilla, why didn't you finish?"
"I don't have much of an appetite today. I don't want it..."
Before I could finish, she suddenly raised her voice and cried out.
"No appetite!"
"How could you have no appetite! The thing in your belly—"
Her face went red, her expression almost monstrous.
Then, as if catching herself, she cut off the words. In an instant she forced a smile back onto her face.
"Priscilla, Mom isn't scolding you. Mom just worries about you."
"You eat and throw up, throw up and eat, all day long. You finally get a little nutrition in you. If you don't eat, how is your body supposed to hold up?"
"These goose eggs, I went through several towns just to collect them. If you don't eat them, isn't it all wasted?"
As she spoke, she pushed the bowl toward me again.
My husband chimed in beside her. "That's right, Priscilla. Mom means well. Just eat them!"
They were both smiling, but their eyes were fixed hard on the eggs in the bowl.
Camille's words came back to me. My heart lurched, and instinct told me to pull away.
But they kept staring at me, a pressure in it that would not be refused. "Go on, eat!"
Without thinking, I picked up the plate and held it up to my husband's mouth.
"If they're so good for you, then you eat them, honey!"
The moment I held it out, my mother-in-law screamed behind me.
"He can't eat those!"
Smack. She knocked the plate out of my hand, and it shattered across the floor.
My heart shook. I turned to look at her.
That face, so kind and gentle a moment ago, was now so dark it looked ready to drip.
She glared at me for a few seconds. Then, all at once, her mouth curved into a gentle smile again.
"You're just not hungry enough yet, aren't you? It's all right. When you get hungry later, Mom will make you some more."
Her smile was tender, but a chill ran down my back.
I quickly made an excuse about being sleepy and hurried back to my room, bolted the door, and called Camille.
"Cami, what exactly has my mother-in-law been feeding me? What does it have to do with the red marks on my belly?"
Even as I asked, part of me still refused to believe she would hurt me.
I was an orphan, with no power and no connections.
After I married Darren, both he and his mother had been unbelievably good to me.
Now I was carrying the Gilbert bloodline. If they meant to harm me, what could they possibly gain?
"Have you ever heard of... the fetal-feeding curse?" Camille said quietly.
"There's a forbidden folk ritual that raises something inside a pregnant woman, something that can never be full. The reason you feel hungry is that the thing that truly wants to eat was never you."
"Once it's devoured every drop of lifeblood from you and the child in your womb, it will come back to life through your body!"
My scalp crawled as I listened, sure she was making up a story to scare me.
"If I'm right, that thing's soul won't stray more than thirty feet from your home. It must have something to anchor itself to."
"Go and look. Isn't there a memorial tablet enshrined somewhere in your house?"
Her words sent cold sweat pouring down my back.
My father-in-law had died of esophageal cancer, and we kept his memorial tablet in the house...
