Page 58 of The Devil's Secret

My feet prod over the warm tiles beneath before I get to the mirror, wiping off the steam and looking at my reflection. The woman there, it’s as though I’m seeing her for the first time. She may be broken, but there’s courage inside.

So much of my story is difficult to imagine, even for me, someone who’s been through it. I never got to experience all the things many people take for granted. College. That first apartment. Falling in love. Holding my child after he was born.

The center of my chest turns heavy when I remember the day I gave birth. The day my pain was far worse than anything I’d endured.

Gripping the edge of the vanity, my knuckles strain, that awful day playing right in front of my eyes as though it’s happening all over again.

I was only twenty when I became a mother. And I was only twenty when they took him away.

* * *

“It’s okay, dear,” Angelina reassures, sitting beside me on a bed I’ve never been on, her slightly wrinkled hand clasping mine as I groan from the pain of the contractions.

“Can you please give me something? It really—ahh!” I scream as another one comes.

She tsks with a shake of her head, patting my hand. “I’m sorry, but Agnelo won’t allow it, and I have to do what he’s instructed.”

My scream turns to a gasping sob, the torment unbearable. I can’t do this. I can’t have a baby like this. My lower back spasms with sharp, stabbing pain as the contractions grow more consistent.

“I want my mother. Please!”

But Angelina doesn’t say a word, her expression somber.

When I picture Mom’s face, I start to cry even harder. This isn’t how it was supposed to be, being taken, getting knocked up by a monster. I don’t even know if it’s a boy or girl.

As soon as I got pregnant, Agnelo had Angelina check on the baby’s heartbeat, throwing some prenatals my way. Angelina saw me a few other times, but they haven’t told me anything. I don’t know if the baby has all her fingers and toes or how much she weighs. They never allowed me to see a real doctor.

But supposedly Angelina is an OB/GYN, or so she says.

“It’ll be over soon, dear. I promise.”

But it won’t be over. Agnelo won’t let me keep my baby. He’s told me he’s going to take it from me. And if I don’t start behaving, he’s going to kill my child.

This poor baby will belong to a monster. What will he do to him? Who will care for him when I’m not around? Maybe he’ll allow me to keep him. Maybe I can beg.

My chin quivers as I snivel, heavier with every wave of agony.

The contractions come faster now, and I know the end is coming, I can feel that baby pushing down inside me, wanting to break free.

I grasp my protruding stomach, closing my eyes for a moment.

Stay a little longer, little one. The world is cruel. No place for you here.

Angelina checks me, and this time when she looks up, it’s with a tentative smile. “It’s time. You’re having it now.”

“No! I can’t do this!”

“It’s only a temporary pain and then—”

She realizes what I already know. There won’t be a forever after for us. He won’t be mine. My entire body feels like I’m being gutted with a knife, stabbing me over and over. I can’t lose my baby. Another wave of pain hits behind my eyes.

“Maybe you can talk to him,” I plead. “Ask him to let me keep my child. I’ll be good. Tell him. Please!”

Her brows dip and her lips thin as she comes to my side, peering down at me with sympathy. Leaning into my ear, she brushes away a sweaty strand of hair glued to my face. “I wish I could help you, but my hands are as tied as yours. I’m sorry.”

Then she’s back at my feet. With her guidance, and with complete reluctance, I push that baby out of me, screaming with all my might. When a high-pitched cry slices through the room, my heart bursts with happiness, and then the grief comes.

“It’s a boy!” Angelina announces, cradling him in her arms with a blanket wrapped loosely around him as she wanders to me.

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