Chapter 3
When I woke up, the incandescent light was blindingly bright. I reached out and touched my abdomen—flat and empty. I remember kneeling on the ground and hugging Vincenzo’s legs tightly to beg, “Please, don’t do this. I don’t want anything… just this child.” But he was unmoved. “Your pregnancy was a mistake.” He leaned over to look at me, his tone cruel as he stated, “Who are you to have my child?” I cried desperately, crying until I almost died. But Vincenzo still forced me to drink the bowl of abortion-stopping medicine with his own hands. He cut my child out alive, just to bury another woman’s fetus. I did not even get to say goodbye properly. At that moment, I stared at the ceiling blankly and before I could recover, I heard the servants whispering, “Burning the child can avoid nightmares.” “That’s right, after all, it’s a baby that’s almost formed. It’s unlucky if it’s not handled properly.” I suddenly got up from the bed, the wound hurt so much that I almost could not stand. I staggered to the garden and saw the servant holding the familiar small wooden box and walking towards the fire from a distance. “No!” I screamed and rushed over. But someone stopped me and held my shoulders tightly. Vincenzo stood by the fire with an indifferent expression. I cried, grabbed the corner of his clothes and knelt at his feet to plead, “Vincenzo, that’s our child! It’s so young… It did not do anything wrong.” His eyes were dark and he looked at me for a long time. In the end, he just turned his head and said lightly, “Burn it.” I froze in place, forgetting even to cry. “No!” I collapsed and rushed over, but was thrown away and fell to the ground. The flames lit and the small coffin was thrown into the fire. I lay in front of the ashes and reached out to grab the charred wood. The flesh on my palms rolled up, but it seemed that I had lost the pain. Vincenzo finally came over, grabbed my burned wrist and roared in a low voice, “Amelia! Are you crazy?!”