The Shadow from His Past

My husband, Chandler Rotterdam worked as a researcher developing a new serum. Driven to find a cure for my cancer, he poured himself entirely into the project. 

However, on the day of the injection, it wasn’t him who administered the treatment—it was his childhood friend, Pauline Hemsworth. 

She had injected an unregulated dose, and I could do nothing but watch as my life slipped away. Even the child growing inside me was not spared. 

Meanwhile, Chandler remained by her side. 

“If this research succeeds, all the credit goes to you!” Chandler assured Pauline. “She would never blame you if anything happens. She’d be grateful to be the first to receive the drug.” 

But the experiment failed. After discovering my death, Chandler lost his mind.

By the time I took my last breath, the pain had already numbed me.

The experiment had failed.

They had injected me with an improper dose and I could feel that death was near.

Only my mom stayed by my side, pleading through her tears.

“Don’t leave, my daughter, please don’t go.”

“Isn’t he…coming?” I asked, my gaze fixed on the empty hallway.

My mom’s hands trembled as she dialed for Chandler Rotterdam once more.

This time, he finally answered, his tone laced with irritation.

“Didn’t I already tell you? This is a critical time in Pauline’s experiment! We have to focus on what we’re doing so stop bothering me!”

My mom’s voice caught, and when she spoke again, it was hoarse. “Chandler, it’s me.

“Could you come to the hospital? Mariah…she doesn’t have much time. She wants to speak with you one last time.”

After a brief silence, Chandler let out a low, mocking laugh.

“Honestly, Mother, is that necessary?

“Did Mariah put you up to this? I’ve said it countless times—there’s nothing between Pauline and me! Tell her to stop being so jealous.”

“No, it’s not that, Mariah really—”

He cut her off.

“Enough! Do you think she could’ve lived this long without Pauline giving her the chance to try the new drug? If she can’t be grateful, that’s one thing, but she’s full of filthy thoughts—it’s honestly sickening.

"Tell her that once she's better, she can stay at the lab for a while. She can cook for Pauline, clean up—consider it her way of repaying us.”

On the other end of the line, Pauline chimed in sweetly. “Mariah, are you coming? The birthday candles are about to go out!”

My body convulsed, and my vision began to blur.

My mom was horrified.

“Chandler, please…as a favor to me, Mariah is truly on the brink—” she pleaded but Chandler’s patience was entirely exhausted.

“Then let her die quickly, and far away, so she doesn’t taint my sight!”

Then he hung up.

I stared blankly at the ceiling as I felt each breath slip further away.

Even the tiny life inside me had stopped fighting.

My heart beat calmly. I thought I’d feel devastated but hearing those words left me with an unexpected sense of calm.

Then I heard my mom wail, “My poor Mariah…”

“Mom, please…don’t cry,” I mumbled, as blood slipped from my mouth.

“Turn on a recorder for me. I want to leave a message for Chandler.”

After leaving those final words for him, I died.

And the child inside me, barely four months along, passed with me.