Chapter 1

My mother-in-law made a cup out of a rib bone and told me to drink from it every day. She said it would bless me with a fat, healthy boy.

I couldn't bring myself to put my lips to it, so late at night I posted online, asking for help.

An anonymous account replied within seconds:

"This is body-stealing reincarnation sorcery! Your mother-in-law isn't trying to bless her grandson! She's using your pregnancy to live all over again!"

"Once you finish drinking in seven days, she'll push your baby out of your womb and be reborn in its place!"

A chill ran down my back. I suddenly remembered that my mother-in-law had been diagnosed with lung cancer just last week.

Yet she wasn't the least bit anxious to get treatment.

Something clicked. I went to a pottery studio and made a cup that looked close enough.

Then I took the one she'd given me and tossed it into the pigpen, to a sow that was about to give birth.

...

"Wendy Carter, why are you spacing out? Hurry up and drink."

Hope Lambert pushed the grayish-white cup toward me, smiling with the sweetest, kindest face.

I let out two dry laughs.

"Mom, this cup... it's really made of bone?"

"Would I lie about that?"

She patted her chest.

"I saved it myself, back when I had that car accident."

"I've poured all my blessings and good luck into it. You drink from it, and my grandson will grow up strong."

I looked down at the cloudy water inside, and a rank, fishy smell hit me square in the head.

Four months pregnant, and my morning sickness was already brutal.

Looking at that cup of water now, my stomach heaved.

"Mom, I'm not feeling great today. Can I drink it tomorrow?"

Her face soured.

"No. You have to drink it seven days straight. Break the chain in the middle, and the blessing won't hold."

Seeing me hesitate, she picked up the cup herself and brought it right to my lips.

I jerked back hard, and half the water splashed onto the couch.

Her expression dropped in an instant.

"Wendy, do you think I'm dirty?"

"No, no," I said, my back going cold as I waved my hands quickly. "It's just... my morning sickness is really bad. I can't stand strange smells."

She stared at me for a while before slowly drawing the cup back.

"Fine. I'll keep it warm for you. But you're drinking it tonight."

She turned and went into the kitchen. I whipped out my phone, snapped a photo, and posted.

"My mother-in-law made a cup out of a rib bone and wants me to drink from it seven days straight while I'm pregnant. Is this normal?"

The post was barely up before the comments blew up.

"Is this something that actually happens in 2026?"

"OP, your mother-in-law's a psycho, right? A rib-bone cup? That's creepy just to read."

"Am I the only one who caught the 'seven days straight' detail? It sounds like some kind of ritual..."

I kept refreshing the page, my heart pounding faster and faster.

Then an anonymous comment popped up.

"Whatever you do, don't drink it! This is body-stealing reincarnation sorcery!"

"As long as you drink from that cup, she plants a bone anchor inside your womb. Seven days straight, and she pushes your baby out and gets born again!"

"Has your mother-in-law been terrified of light lately? Always touching your belly? Has she secretly clipped some of your hair or nails?"

My hand shook so hard I nearly dropped the phone.

These past two weeks, she really had been acting strange.

She used to love sitting out in the sun, but starting last week, she suddenly swapped every curtain in the house for blackout ones, saying her eyes bothered her.

She used to look down on me for coming from the country, said I wasn't good enough for her son, wouldn't even glance my way.

But ever since I got pregnant, she'd been coming to me every day, making soups, bringing meals, fussing over how I felt.

A few times I woke in the middle of the night to find her standing by the bed, staring straight at my belly.

Back then I'd assumed she was just desperate for a grandson.

Now, looking back, that stare wasn't a grandmother's at all. It was someone eyeing a carefully chosen vessel.

The anonymous account sent one more:

"This kind of dark magic is especially dangerous. Is your mother-in-law's health failing?"