Conceived and Targeted: My Family's Deadly Secret

"Gina, that fertility shrine we visited on Rockhill actually worked! We made our wish, and you came back pregnant!

"To make sure the baby comes into the world safe and sound, I'm planning to buy two tickets. We'll head back to the mountain tomorrow to fulfill our vow. Now, give me your ID so I can book everything."

Martha Kirk's familiar voice rang in my ears. She was my mother-in-law.

I instinctively touched my still-flat belly and suddenly realized I had been reborn.

I had been married to Michael Green for ten years, but we had never been able to conceive. We'd undergone numerous medical tests, and every doctor said the same thing—physically, we were both fine, and not conceiving was sheer bad luck.

Then, three months ago, I followed Martha on a trip to a secluded shrine in the mountains. It was said to bless couples hoping for a child, and sure enough, the very next month, I was pregnant.

In my previous life, Martha had insisted on taking me back to the shrine on Rockhill to fulfil our vow and even bought two tickets for our cable car ride up. However, when we arrived at the mountain base, she pulled out her phone and claimed she had accidentally forgotten to buy mine.

I offered to buy another one on the spot, but she snatched my phone away and snapped, "Who takes a cable car to pay respects and fulfill a vow? You're lucky I'm not making you crawl up on your knees.

"If you want to bring this baby safely into the world, you should climb up the mountain on your feet—as a way to show your sincerity, of course."

Back then, I'd been naive enough to believe she had a point. So, under the blistering summer sun, I started climbing step by step, thinking it was all for the sake of the baby. By the time my vision went black and I collapsed onto the stone steps, I still believed I was doing the right thing.

When I woke up in the hospital, the doctor had reprimanded me for hiking while pregnant. He'd said the baby had a strong heartbeat, but he also warned that I might never be able to carry again if I lost this one.

Terrified and heartbroken, I called Michael to the hospital, desperate for comfort.

However, Martha simply scoffed. With a know-it-all attitude, she said, "When I was pregnant with Mikey, I was hiking up hills and picking fruits every day. I never felt tired once.

"But you? You're barely showing, and you already act like royalty."

I was stunned by her words.

Before I'd gotten pregnant, she was the one dragging me to every church, psychic, and naturopath she could find, desperate for me to conceive. But now that I finally had, I was too delicate for her taste.

But what baffled me even more was that Michael had refused to defend me. Instead, he'd tossed his vasectomy paperwork into my face. "How dare you shift the blame to my mother! That bastard inside you isn't even mine! If you don't abort the baby, I'll kill it myself!"

I'd looked at him in utter disbelief. Then, out of the blue, he lunged at me and kicked me in the stomach.

Thankfully, the doctor had stepped in just in time and prevented any serious harm to my baby.

Michael had never told me he had a vasectomy, and I never did anything to betray him. Yet, he insisted that the baby in my womb wasn't his.

I didn't understand what had come over him. Still, to protect my precious baby, I had no choice but to return to my parents' home with them.