My mother-in-law and I were pregnant at the same time. She gave birth to a healthy boy, while I died during my postpartum confinement.
But my spirit lingered, trapped in this house.
After my body was cremated and the family finished mourning at my grave, my husband turned around and sold my daughter to human traffickers to earn formula money for his mother's baby.
I screamed, broke down, and wept as I watched my daughter taken away. They didn't care at all.
At that moment, all my hatred burst forth, and the space before my eyes began to warp.
