"When the doctor took him out, he was alive—kicking, crying..." Her voice turned into a mocking laugh. "But I smothered him. With my own hands."
The words sliced through me like blades. My entire body went cold, trembling violently.
"Denise, it's your fault! You're the reason your baby died!" she shouted triumphantly, savoring my pain.
I raised my hand, wanting to slap her across the face, but she caught my wrist and twisted it hard, throwing me to the floor.
The next moment, someone pinned me down.
Patricia's smile grew darker. She ripped the black cloth off the boxes one by one.
Under the harsh light, I saw what was inside—and my pupils dilated in horror.
"Do you like my gift?" she cooed. "It took me a lot of effort to keep them from decaying."
Inside each glass case was a perfectly preserved fetus. Eight of them.
"You're lying," I choked out. "You're lying! They were cremated—the ashes were placed at the temple... Weston told me—"
Patricia burst out laughing. "Oh, Sister. You didn't really believe his lies, did you? He told you they were buried properly, didn't he? That the ashes were sent to a temple?"
Her grin twisted cruelly. "It was all a lie! Hahaha!"