"Ugh! AHHHHHH!"
Ear-piercing screams from a woman echoed through the Roderickson family home, intensified by the thunder, lightning, and howling wind, making anyone feel anxious.
CRACK!
Upon hearing the glass fall and shatter, Mr. Roderickson immediately thought of a bad omen. He struggled to shake off these negative thoughts and tried to keep faith, but…
One of the women assisting with the birth walked out, shoulders slumped and eyes fixed on the floor.
"How did it go?"
"A-a-again…"
Before the stammering midwife could continue, he hurried into the room, sat on the bed, and clasped his wife's hand.
"Again, again," he repeated, squeezing her hand tighter each time.
She only stared at the stillborn baby, with no tears, only an empty expression. This wasn't the first or even the second time; it was the third.
Each time, the blame fell on the midwives, but everyone knew it was her. She could conceive, but every child was born dead.
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Shortly after, Mr. Roderickson entered with a child of about two years in his arms.
"Let's adopt her. I chose her carefully. Do you think it's easy to find someone who looks like you? Haha, look, she has red eyes and black hair like yours. It might be common, but she even resembles you a little. Even from your gift."
As he said this, he placed the child in his wife's arms. She felt a mix of emotions, but in the end, she was genuinely happy. She could finally experience the joy of motherhood, even if the child wasn't of her blood.
When she managed to fill part of her emptiness, he unsettled her:
"Let's try just one more time."
As a renowned exterminator, he wanted an heir. He brought this child home only out of "love" to console his wife, but he still desired a blood descendant.
If the fourth baby was stillborn, he planned to kill his wife as well and silence the midwives, either with threats or money, so he could remarry.
There were cases where couples who couldn't separate due to a child would end up killing their partner, passing it off as an accident or something similar. Many were eventually caught.
Although rare, many people think of these things, among others, before marrying, so it rarely happens afterward.
Mr. Roderickson had a plausible reason should his wife die; since she'd had three tragic births, dying in childbirth wouldn't be surprising.
Mr. Roderickson "loved" his wife very much, but not more than his reputation.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
Outside the room, he paced nervously.
For him, it was now or never.
He was already anxious, with a bad feeling, as labor usually lasts between six to twelve hours, yet it had already been almost a full day.
Inside, his wife barely had the strength to scream when the baby was finally fully delivered.
When she didn't hear her baby cry, she thought the same thing had happened again. But upon seeing the midwife trembling with the baby in her arms, she weakly asked:
"What is it? Dead again?"
The midwife didn't respond. The other two, upon seeing the baby's neck, also looked shocked. No longer able to bear it, she demanded:
"Give me the baby here."
The midwife continued to stare at the child.
"Give me!" The woman, using all her remaining energy, shouted.
With the baby in her arms, she saw that he was alive, and not just alive—he looked extremely healthy. She placed her hand on the baby and began to cry, but this moment of joy lasted only a 'moment.'
"C-Curse… C-CURSED CHILD!"
When she realized the midwife's reaction was due to an unusual mark on the baby, she angrily pulled the midwife's arm, then grabbed her neck, intending to kill her, mo, not just her, the other two midwives as well. But weakened due to childbirth, she fainted with the baby still in her arms.
The midwife, nearly strangled, fled in terror, the other two did the same.
"What happened?!"
Mr. Roderickson asked, but they didn't answer and left the house, screaming.
Entering the room, he found his wife unconscious, a baby in her arms. He saw the baby was alive, but it made no sound. Examining the child, he noticed an unfamiliar mark—likely what had scared the midwives off.
Since the midwives had already fled, it was useless to kill his wife, as the whole town would probably know by now.
He could only fall to his knees, not out of happiness for finally having a child, but because the thing he valued most—his reputation—was now on the verge of being destroyed.