Part 9

The sun rose pale behind the mist over Coldwater. Dressed in rugged boots, worn fatigues, and a work coat, Salem moved through the twenty-four-hour hypermarket aisles with a casual efficiency. She selected items deliberately and with a measured routine ease. She bought garbage bags, towels, hammer, and tape. She even found a surgical kit with a scalpel, and suture practice kit. She rolled the cart slowly, walking proudly as if it were her last day on earth. She glanced at her reflection in the mirrors: belly rounded, posture perfect.

At the register, the cashier smiled at her midsection. “Close?”

Salem’s lips curved into her practiced maternal beam.

“It’s a girl. She’ll be born any moment now,” she replied with a smile and a wink.

Before leaving, she drove through a drive thru. Egg sandwich, hash browns, coffee, orange juice. Sitting in her car, she ate slowly, deliberately, like a ritual, the calm of a surgeon before the first cut. She wiped her hands, adjusted her coat, and pressed the fake belly into place. Everything was ready.

The morning mist clung low over Coldwater. Thick and damp, the fog curled around the streetlights and houses like a grey smoke. Salem’s car rolled silently down the narrow lane, gravel crackling under the tires. She sat behind the wheel, eyes scanning every shadow, every corner of the quiet neighbourhood. Her mind was precise, rehearsed: enter, secure the baby, leave. She removed the rubber belly with an exhale.

Armed with a hammer and the tote, she pressed the door handle and stepped inside without disturbing the silence. The lock clicked and echoed in her ears. She listened. Her eyes settled on Jessica, moving toward the kitchen, humming. Her belly curved beneath the dress, soft and alive. For a single heartbeat, Salem’s chest ached with longing. “It’s ours,” she whispered.

Jessica turned, startled. Her eyes widened at the sight of Salem. “Salem. What are you doing here?”

Then the humanity shattered.

Salem moved with sudden speed. Jessica stumbled backward, knocking over a chair. Pots clattered from the counter and then crashed to the floor. Panic flared in Jessica’s eyes, quick and bright. “Salem! Stop! What are you doing.”

Eyes black like shark’s, Salem screamed, lifted her hand that held the hammer. Jessica screamed. The first blow landed. Then the next blow fell, and the next, and many more. Salem struggled to push Jessica’s hands out of way of the strikes. Blood splattered. The desperate struggle and whimpers tossed the house into chaos. Jessica fought, screaming and clawing at Salem, fighting to break free. The air was thick with fear, each second stretching into an eternity and the mist of blood filling the room. Jessica slipped to the floor. More blows landed. Jessica choked with blood and kicked, chairs scraped across the floor, and cupboards rattled. Salem’s breath was calm, methodical, aiming to extinguish the womb where her child awaited her.

Jessica’s cries broke through again. “Salem, please! Don’t do this!” she gargled.

Salem’s mind was deaf, blind, and mute, preoccupied with methodical eradication.

Jessica stopped moving. The room fell quiet. Salem screamed into Jessica’s mangled face. But there was no time to linger. Salem’s hands covered in blood she threw away the hammer, opened the bag, and pulled out the gloves and instruments. Blood was spilling around the motionless body. Salem slipped, cut her hand with the scalpel, and screamed. Covered in blood and holding the scalpel, she realized her night of surgical studies was utterly irrelevant. She didn’t wish to save Jessica anymore. Salem proceeded with the surgery. She sliced through the skin, and the muscle, one layer after another as the videos instructed. Jessica moved, working to raise her hands against the pain. Salem screamed again and ferociously stabbed Jessica’s face and throat a dozen times with the scalpel. She had to work fast to save the baby.

Salem opened the car door and stepped in, the baby secured against her chest with a sling and a towel. She started the engine. The tires cut through the gravel and the car moved swiftly through the mist. In the rearview mirror, the houses receded. Salem’s mind was a swirl of calm calculation and fevered delight. “It’s mine. Nothing will stop me.”