Prologue
PROLOGUE
29 YEARS AGO
“One last push,” Simone Walker instructed from her position, stationed between the open legs of her patient, a young mother. “Almost there.”
A bulging vein bisected Jia’s forehead, and her bright pink face scrunched up even more as she gathered the last of her energy. Sweat streamed from all her pores. Her teeth were gritted. Tears and saliva dribbled down her chin.
“You’re doing a great job.” Simone’s support remained calm and unwavering. “Deep breath in, and then push as hard as you can…”
Jia’s chest swelled under her massive intake of oxygen. Then a long momentous scream exploded from her gaping mouth. All of her pain, effort and exhaustion poured into a single howl. A yellow glow possessed her pupils.
Simone gently held onto the tiny, sticky body pushed out by Jia’s pelvic muscles. “Another beautiful baby boy!”
The child’s tiny eyes were closed, and his fingers were coiled into adorable fists. Cool air collided with his naked form, making him gasp and cry.
Simone automatically moved the baby toward his mother’s chest, so he could lay there and establish a skin-to-skin bond.
“No.” Jia shook her head tiredly. She turned her entire face away, robbing herself of the chance to lay eyes on the infant. Emotion clogged up her throat. “Take it away.”
“A-Are you sure this is what you want?” Simone couldn’t believe they were going ahead with this.
Jia’s husband, John, ran a reassuring hand over his wife’s damp hair. In his other arm, he cradled the baby boy that had been birthed five minutes prior. The child was blissfully silent–a stark contrast from his noisy twin.
“We went through this in the birth plan,” John reminded the midwife. Behind his circle rimmed glasses, his brown hooded eyes were direct and solemn.
“Just get rid of it!” Jia sobbed impatiently.
Ruwen pranced out of the shadows masking the living room’s corner. “Alright, I’ll take it from here!”
“Let me at least clean him up first…” Simone evaded the shaman’s outstretched palms, by turning the medical table she’d set up for the Yaos’ homebirth. Shakily, her gloved hands selected the clamp and cut the baby boy’s umbilical cord. She subtly hugged the child to her own chest, giving him the care that his mother had openly denied him.
In Mandarin, John murmured loving words to his wife and the child they’d decided to keep. They were a family unit of Chinese American descent, and a perfect picture of domesticity.
“The prophecy cannot be ignored,” Ruwen said to Simone.
She gave him the side-eye. Her gut was telling her that this man was a con artist, but she knew that it wasn’t her place to comment on the workings of their community. The supernaturally gifted population in their small town.
“‘One son will kill himself, his brother…’” The shaman paused for dramatic effect. “‘...and Dogwood.’”
Simone flattened the impulse to suck on her teeth. Abandoning a child was no playful matter. Plus, she was putting her professional credibility on the line. If anyone outside the Yao’s house found out what was taking place, her medical career would be over.
She reluctantly handed the infant over to Ruwen. The baby had finally quietened, and she was already missing his loud expression of self. Simone made a mental note to hug her daughter extra tight when she got home. Although, she could already predict that the mouthy teenager would question her motives.
The shaman bid everyone farewell with a cavalier dip of his head. John and Jia chose not to acknowledge him, appeasing their guilt by immersing themself in cooing at their chosen son.
Only Simone watched Ruwen leave with the baby.
She swallowed at the empty doorway, dragging her eyes away to observe the twenty-something year old parents interacting with their baby. “Have you decided his name yet?”
Even though two births had occurred, she would only document the delivery of one baby.
The young couple swapped a loving glance.
“Yes,” John announced proudly. “His name is Fang.”
Ruwen Mo pulled his car over to the side of the road leading out of town, and parked the vehicle. Pulling the key from the ignition, he peered through the windshield. Thick forest sandwiched the deserted lane. A desolate moon perched at the peak of the black sky, amongst a scattering of stars. Inches from the car’s front bumper, resided the poles belonging to the area’s sign.
Ruwen couldn’t see the text from his current angle, but he knew what it said:
WELCOME TO DOGWOOD
POP. 5,923
A gurgle came from the passenger seat, along with a nasty stench.
“No, no, no, no! Not in my car, you little rascal!” Ruwen complained. He got out of the car and jogged around to open the door, and pick the baby up from where it lay in its own shit.
Holding the kid at arm’s length, Ruwen held his breath and strode into the forest. Runny black poop trickled down the newborn’s legs – none of it touched Ruwen’s ruffled shirt thankfully. Webbed branches and a latticework of leaves obscured the midnight sky. Twigs crackled underneath the soles of the shaman’s stylish leather shoes. Spots of moonlight forme a path trailing deeper into the abyss of trees, and he trusted nature to guide him.
The woodland town was a far cry from the big city, but Ruwen appreciated the change of scenery. It was just what he needed after the fraud case. Luckily, he had escaped with no prison time and a slap on the wrist.
Dogwood had welcomed him with open arms, and his new clients paid well. Usually Ruwen lied to them all, but Jia’s desperation had pulled on his heartstrings. What kind of monster rejected the pleas of a nightmare-torn pregnant lady? Not him. So, he’d dusted off his divination tools and tapped into his powers for real. Lack of practice had affected his accuracy, but he had summarised the general themes of the future.
‘One son will kill himself, his brother and Dogwood’ was a tad overdramatic. In actuality, Ruwen wasn’t entirely sure if he had pinpointed the correct son either. The men in his vision had shared the same face, so it was difficult to identify which twin was which. But the Yaos were paying customers, and he didn’t want to disappoint.
Also, he hadn’t anticipated that John and Jia would take his words literally. Once the problem had been identified, they had faith that the local shaman would dispose of it.
Ruwen slowed at a sprawling sea of dogwood flowers that occupied a portion of the forest floor. “Ah. Perfect.”
He may’ve had a criminal past, but he drew the line at killing children. Nature was a brutal beast all on its own, so he would let the elements handle it.
The shaman placed the baby down amid the pristine white petals and light green stamen. Dusting his hands off on his pants, Ruwen backed away and marched back to where his car was waiting for him.
His conscience trembled when he realised what exactly he was doing: leaving a defenceless baby to die all alone. However, he brushed the reality aside and replaced it with a swift justification.
This was what the parents wanted.
Not his problem.
