On May 19, 1913, at the Aries House,

I grip the headboard tightly with one hand and clutch the bedspread with the other. Sweat pours down my forehead like a waterfall. I am too exhausted to even groan as my throat is sore and worn out. The sweat blurs my vision, making everything in front of me look blurry like a car mirror in the fog. The things and people I see now only resemble shadows on a cheap circus screen. The pain divides my mind and body into small pieces. I compare myself to a stuffed puppet falling into the hands of a bad owner. He tears me apart, and when he is not satisfied, he throws that puppet to his fierce dog. It bites and tears me apart without mercy, leaving nothing behind. It easily rips me apart like a sheet of newspaper, and it will not stop until the fabrics and cotton are all mixed up. Fortunately, the kind and gentle mother sews the puppet back together, but it cannot escape the cruelty of the dog and its owner. Time and time again, the punishment is like a terrible loop that I have to endure.

Yes, I am in labour.

"Push harder, ma’am!" Dr. Romwell's urging seems to be of no use to me. The first birth was easier, and the memories of it have faded away quickly. Elizabeth was too small for me to have difficulties during childbirth, even though it was my first time. But now, the pain has surpassed its definition, and I no longer realise that I am experiencing the worst physical pain. I am like a person who is paralysed from the waist down and cannot fully feel the limbs of my body. Sometimes I just want to stop, but the effort to carry this baby for so many months makes it impossible for me to fail. This child is my second chance to redeem my mistake. I am determined to do whatever it takes to ensure that this child is safely born, even if I have to bargain with Death himself.

I can no longer hear any instructions from the doctor or the midwives crowded in this room. The only thing I know is that I have to try my best to push. The thought of the baby suffocating if it does not come out of my body soon turns part of my mental strength into energy that I can use. Once again, I place half of my faith in God. I have begged Him to save my previous life, but He has never responded. I lost faith in Him and am ready to return if He helps me this time. Let this child of mine be born smoothly, and I will believe that God loves everyone equally and somewhere in this world, He covers the mercy on every unfortunate soul.

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"Fiona, do you hear me?"

In the moment of almost collapsing, a familiar voice wakes me up. I have not heard this voice for almost a year, and when it returns, it sounds like a gentle bell in the church. A hand full of nostalgia grabs me like a person who is about to receive the elixir of life. I try to open my eyes to make sure I am not mistaken for someone else. I hold onto their strong arm while trying to push. Andermis has returned after a long disappearance, just when I needed support. Ideally, my husband should be the one by my side right now, but no one knows where he is, not even my respected mother-in-law who is waiting in the next room for news.

"Do you hear me, Fiona...?" The familiar warm voice is like a pile of fire that keeps my mind alert against the bone-chilling cold of human hearts. "Breathe in, breathe out following my counting..."

I do not reply, but my body automatically follows his words. Slowly, I take a deep breath. In the depths of my memories, I suddenly remember moments from my childhood. I recall the first time I played the violin or when David cried when Thena joked that he was adopted. Beautiful memories always give us strength, but sometimes too many of them can make us lose our way. Andermis' hesitant voice is my beacon to find my way. I take a deep breath, then pause for a moment before exhaling with all my strength. I tightly grip Andermis' hand, afraid to let go for fear of losing my lifeline. I repeat the process, determined to give birth. Nothing will take away my child this time! Even if Death himself were to come and take my child away, I would take anything I could as a weapon to face that spiritual entity. Above all, I am a mother, and any mother can become a goddess for her child!