Chapter 27

The Mother realized She’d put Herself in quite the predicament.

Why did She need two women? Firstly, the screaming was out of hand. The two could reach decibels unfit for human ears. And secondly, how would She handle it if the first child survived? She couldn’t very well free the second woman, but neither could She murder a perfectly good mother and child. The world needed more children.

The Mother sighed. She’d gotten overzealous. No, She’d become cocky when Her surveillance proved the tiny Asian woman was bedridden. When the blonde made herself so available, taking a walk right in front of The Mother’s house! The Mother simply couldn’t help Herself.

And now there were two.

The Mother sat on Her couch, staring blankly at the wall. She’d painted her living room purple. Color of the Divine. Color of royalty. Yet the oil painting of tulips situated atop the rich hue held no answers for Her.

The first extraction would prove difficult. The basement was only a large, concrete hole in the ground below the house, now stained with blood the women had obviously already seen. The Mother could pull one woman — the blonde, most likely — and tie her up in the bedroom upstairs. But there would be threat of the rare passersby hearing her scream.

The Mother rubbed Her hands up and down Her thighs, over the satiny material of Her skirt, and closed Her eyes to the friction. Her palm throbbed. The blonde had been a handful. She lifted Her hand to the sunlight pouring through the picture window and studied the four raw lines down Her palm. They weren’t quite as horrible as the scratch on Her eye.

She sighed, gently readjusting the patch She wore over the injured eye. It burned and watered. She should medicate the blonde to prevent a reoccurrence. It would, of course, require getting a refill on Her prescription.

Another screech: “Let us go!”

The Mother crossed Her legs daintily and reached for Her glass of wine. She would stop by the pharmacy on the way to work in the morning. Tonight, however, the loudest one would be the woman She chose.

She polished off that glass, and then a second one. After three, Her head felt light and a little fuzzy. For a moment, She considered simply going to bed. Saving the first extraction for the morrow. The yelling would cease eventually once the women wore themselves out.

Never put off until tomorrow what you can accomplish today, She reminded Herself, thinking of Her mother.

She left the empty glass on the end table and descended to the basement.