Gambling My Destiny With My Baby
Language: en
Outside the ICU, my husband was using my mother’s life-saving surgery deposit as a bargaining chip on a makeshift gambling table. He had his arm wrapped protectively around his fragile mistress, rolling the dice as he sealed my ruin. Around us, my in-laws watched in silence, while my husband wore a mask of sickening piety. "Dale, Freda has a fractured spiritual aura and a terminal diagnosis," he said, his voice dripping with false sympathy. "The spiritual guru we consulted said her only chance at survival is to siphon-bind the vitality of someone with pure, abundant luck. You’ve always…