Feed Me to the Beasts

"How could that witch hang up on me?" Zach Carter's grip tightened around his phone as his expression darkened with fury.

He dialed over and over again, but each time, he was met with the cold, robotic voice of an automated system. In frustration, he slammed the device onto the floor.

Meanwhile, Zayla Scott lay weakly in her hospital bed, barely able to speak. "Zach, it's fine... It's my fault. I couldn't carry this child to term."

"And it's not like I'm bleeding out. My water just broke. It's early labor, that's all. There's no need to make such a big deal out of it and drag Joey here."

Zach's heart clenched painfully. He reached out and grabbed her hand. "Don't worry, Zayla. Even if Joey doesn't come, her son is here. Eugene's RH-negative blood type means he can donate if needed.

"This baby isn't just yours; it's ours. I'll protect both of you."

Eugene Carter bounced up and rubbed his face against Zayla's. "Don't worry, Mommy Zayla! Daddy and I will protect you and the baby!

"Joey's a coward. She won't even take responsibility for what she did. I don't need a mom like that!"

Children often didn't understand the weight of their words, but Eugene spoke with such seriousness that it was almost unsettling. Still, Zach didn't stop him—his gaze was fixed entirely on Zayla.

After yet another failed attempt to reach me, Zach snapped. He dialed his assistant, Peter Stewart. "Find Joey and bring her here. If you can't, you're fired.

"Start with the cemetery. If she refuses to come back with you, dig up her mother's grave. She sure cares more about the dead than the living."

I heard every word. And even though I was nothing but a ghost, it felt like a thousand needles were piercing my heart.

When I was pregnant with Eugene, I nearly died from hemorrhaging during labor. The doctors rushed to contact my family, but Zach sat outside the emergency room, absorbed in his phone.

"I'm just a guy. I can't do anything. The blood bank's your problem, not mine," he said.

He lounged around while Mom scrambled in panic.

Even after Eugene was born, he showed no care. When I had postpartum bleeding, he couldn't stand to look at me, let alone touch me.

It was Mom and I who raised Eugene together.

Then, fate dealt another cruel blow.

Eugene, too young to understand, ran into the street. In a desperate attempt to save him, Mom was struck by a truck. Her body was mangled beyond recognition.

Afterward, Zach blamed me for not being a better mother. He even blamed Mom for taking Eugene outside in the first place.

I wanted to leave him. I was ready to divorce him in my grief and fury—but I couldn't take Eugene's father away from him. So, I swallowed my pain of losing Mom and kept raising Eugene alone.

Even on Mom's birthday, when I wanted to take Eugene to her grave and tell him about the grandmother who loved him more than anything, Zach stopped me.

He used Zayla's pregnancy and the excuse that I needed to stay with her for work as reasons to keep me from going. He even accused me of burdening Eugene with guilt, calling me a selfish mother.

Now, watching him gently wiping sweat from Zayla's forehead and anxiously bombarding the doctors with questions, it felt like a slap to the face.

Zayla's water had just broken—she hadn't even gone into full labor yet—but Zach was already scrambling to arrange blood transfusions for her, just in case.

Was this the difference between love and indifference?

Meanwhile, the child I nearly died giving birth to was now showering Zayla with affection, calling her "Mommy Zayla" without hesitation.

But he was my child—my flesh and blood—the baby I had nearly lost my life to bring into this world. Yet, in his eyes, there was only Zayla, his beloved "Mommy Zayla".

Tears blurred my vision. Only now did I realize that the baby inside Zayla was Zach's. As I looked at her swollen belly, my hand instinctively moved to my own.

I hadn't shed a single tear when those bears tore me apart. But now, the thought of this new life—who would never take a breath, had been snuffed out before it had a chance to grow... I couldn't hold back.

I cried like I had never cried before.

Zach and Eugene had always talked about wanting a daughter and a baby sister. Now, that miracle had finally arrived, but I would never have the chance to bring her into the world.