Chapter 13 — When the Spider Plant Turned Black

The palm of my hand burned with a stinging numbness, yet it was nothing compared to the sickening churn in my stomach. Ian slowly turned back to look at me, his eyes filled with shock and an underlying flash of fury.

You hit me?

I said, This slap was for myself. My mother stepped forward, shielding me with her body.

Try hitting her again.

Ian clenched his teeth so hard his jaw muscles strained, but in the end, he could only turn his face away. The elderly police officer packed away the digital evidence gathered from the phone.

These will require further verification. Rain, it would be best for you to go to the hospital for a full checkup and make sure to keep every single receipt and medical record.

I asked, What will happen to them? The officer replied, That depends on the test results and your physical condition. For now, you must focus on protecting yourself and under no circumstances should you return to that house alone. I nodded. When we finally stepped out of the police station, the afternoon sun was still blindingly harsh. Yet standing there on the concrete steps, I could not feel an ounce of warmth. Ian hurried after us, calling my name.

Rain.

My mother pulled me along, walking straight ahead. He rushed forward to block our path.

Let us talk, please, do not let my mother bear the heavy consequences of this.

I came to a halt.

You pity her?

He drew in a deep breath.

My mother is old now. If something happens to her, what do you expect me to do?

I looked straight at him.

And what about me?

He froze in his tracks. I continued, If your mother and you managed to ruin my health permanently, what would your plan be then? Ian murmured softly, Nothing like that would happen.

On what grounds can you make such a promise?

I already asked around, they said it was just a traditional remedy to nourish and restore the body.

I stared at him in disbelief. He realized the slip of his tongue immediately, his face draining of all color. My mother seized the opportunity instantly.

Who did you ask?

Ian fell silent. I pressed on, Aunt Liu? He offered no answer. I pulled out my phone.

Every word you just uttered has been recorded.

In truth, I had recorded nothing. Yet Ian’s expression dissolved into sheer panic.

Rain, please, do not do this.

The last remaining thread of fragile hope inside me snapped entirely. My mother let out a cold, bitter laugh.

So it was not that you had no contact with her, but rather that you dared not admit it.

Sweat beaded heavily across Ian’s forehead.

I only called her once.

And what was said?

I asked her if the medicine would cause any harm, and she assured me it would not, that it would simply help make the body more fertile.

I nearly laughed aloud.

Fertile for whose benefit? Has my own body ever been consulted on the matter?

Ian reached out as if to take my hand. I stepped back. His hand hung suspended in midair, his tone softening into a plea.

Rain, I truly never intended to harm you. Can we just go home and live our lives peacefully together? From now on, my mother will never touch these things again, and I swear I will never pressure you about having children.

My mother shouted angrily, Apologies and oaths are far too late now. Ian looked directly at me.

Are you genuinely planning to divorce me over this?

*Over this.* He uttered the words with such casual lightness. As if it were merely a broken bowl, a routine marital dispute, or a simple mistake that could be erased tomorrow with a bowed head and an apology. I replied, And why shouldn't I? Ian’s expression contorted violently.

Do not use the threat of divorce against me.

I looked at him with chilling composure.

I am not threatening you.

My mother hailed a taxi. All the way to the hospital, she never once let go of my hand. I pressed my forehead against the cold car window, watching the endless rows of shops recede into the distance, while my mind replayed the suffocating memories of the past. I had once believed that having my personal space invaded bit by bit by my mother-in-law after marriage was already enough to suffocate me. I never imagined that even the most intimate, hidden physiological rhythms of my body would be offered by my husband to a stranger, twisted into what they dared to call a fertility chart. The obstetrics and gynecology department of the hospital was packed with waiting patients. My mother handled the registration, stood in the long queues, and collected the test results on my behalf. After listening to our account, the doctor furrowed her brows deeply.

Do you have any of the physical samples with you?

My mother answered, We handed them over to the police, but we took photographs of everything. The doctor examined the photographs closely, then turned back to review my medical file.