My family locked me in the basement to give birth. Days later, they returned to find a dark red liquid seeping from the door. As my mother screamed, a voice whispered behind her, “Looking for me?”

dining room plummeted. The three of them stiffened in perfect, terrifying unison.

“You are incredibly fragile right now,” my mother cooed, her voice dripping with synthetic sympathy. “Given your… unique situation, it is medically advisable that you remain here and convalesce.”

“Of course,” I whispered. I forced a smile, pretending the rejection hadn’t continue reading …