All Chapters of Seasons of Mourning: Chapter 1 - Chapter 9

“You were the one who went overboard with matchmaking two months ago. The baby was never meant to come into the world in the first place.”The moment Dominic Fletcher finished, Sabine Mercer slapped him hard across the face.“If you dare say anything of that sort in front of Elaine, I’ll never forgive you for as long as I live!“Her mother died in childbirth, and her father met death to save your life. Elaine loves children. I only wanted her to be happy…”The boulder must’ve left a nasty cut on my back.Now it throbbed with a searing pain that spread to my chest.I gritted my teeth as tears quickly spilled over.In the seven years I had been with Dominic, he had never once touched me.Not until two months ago, when he staggered home drenched in alcohol.That was the first time he had ever looked at me with such passionate, intoxicating desire.Only because he had mistaken me for Sabine.When I learned I was pregnant, I had been so overwhelmed with joy that I spent the whole night awak

The days dragged on in tedious monotony.Dominic and Sabine came to keep me company every single day.Yet they never appeared at the same time.A few days later, my condition had improved enough for Dominic to bring me home.The car frame had taken the brunt of the impact, with us trapped inside by scattered debris.Aside from a few cuts that were not too serious, we were both mostly unhurt elsewhere.My injuries, however, were slightly more severe.If the wound on my back didn’t heal properly, a nasty infection could follow.The pair continued just as before, devoting all their energy into caring for me, avoiding each other all the while.These past few nights, insomnia had taken hold of me.Late one night, I suddenly caught the sound of Sabine crying.Inside the bathroom, she was dry-heaving over and over.Her eyes were swollen and rimmed red. She had clearly been weeping for a very long time.Clutched in her hand was a pregnancy test: two distinct lines.“Why did you have to come at

The moment he realized I was not in the house, Dominic panicked.He froze in place, his mind racing as he frantically tried to figure out where I could have gone.In the end, he headed for the cemetery.His guess was right.Unfortunately, he was several hours late.To reach the cemetery, he had to pass by that very alleyway.My ice-cold corpse lay inside, a gruesome sight to behold.It was already past midnight, and the cemetery gates had long been locked tight.Dominic stood outside the entrance for a very long time.Nearly two hours slipped by.The biting wind was beating down on his face, yet he didn’t budge an inch.I knew I was dead.I lost too much blood, dying in agonizing pain.Now I was floating in midair.Gazing at his numb face, I found myself puzzled.Clearly, the man didn’t love me.So why was he wandering through the dead of night just to look for me?Was it purely out of guilt?Could guilt be so strong a drive?Through the latter half of the night, Dominic never left.On

Time trickled away bit by bit.Dominic helped Sabine over to the sofa, sitting her down before pouring her a glass of warm water.According to the law, a missing person’s report required twenty-four hours to pass before it could be filed.From the moment of yesterday night’s phone call, not enough time had elapsed.The waiting hours were pure, excruciating agony in every single minute and second.Sabine was on edge, unable to settle down for even a moment.She picked up her phone repeatedly, dialing my number over and over again.Yet through the earpiece came only that same frozen, mechanical prompt announcing the phone was turned off.With every repetition of that prompt, the color drained a fraction more from her face.She kept muttering under her breath:“She has an unhealed wound on her back… what if the infection flares up…”She clutched her phone tightly with both hands, her knuckles turning white.“Why do we have to wait twenty-four hours just to file a police report? For every

A week later, Dominic set about arranging my funeral.On the day of the funeral, Sabine hardly took a step outside the memorial hall.She kept gazing at my portrait, whispering non-stop apologies.“Elaine, are you doing well over there? Does your back still hurt? Are you cold?“I’m so sorry. Your death is on me.”Few relatives and friends came to offer their condolences, leaving the vast memorial hall mostly silent and desolate.Time trickled slowly away.Another week passed.Word came from the police that the suspect who had robbed and murdered me had been successfully apprehended and brought to justice.The moment Sabine learned the news, her body shook violently.Throwing caution to the wind, she rushed out the front door, desperately eager to confront the criminal in person, to demand justice for me, and to fight him with her very life.Dominic couldn’t stop her.Distraught and unseeing, she bolted into the middle of the road.A speeding driver was unable to swerve in time.The scr