One dark night.
Heavy rain poured down mercilessly, and thunder roared across the sky.
Lightning ripped through the black clouds, carving terrifying patterns in the heavens.
An old village woman, watching from her window, whispered to herself,
"Something bad has happened… this is the aftermath."
Suddenly, a woman—fully pregnant, soaked, and trembling—ran through the rain, crying in pain and fear.
It was as if someone… or something was chasing her.
She stumbled upon a small house. Desperate, she banged on the door.
"Please! Help me!" she cried.
An old woman opened the door, her eyes widening in shock. A heavily pregnant woman, alone, on such a night? Without question, she pulled her inside.
Inside, another pregnant woman sat by the fire. She quickly rose, equally stunned by the stranger's condition.
"Sit, sit!" she said, grabbing a towel and a glass of water.
"Who are you? What happened to you? Why were you running in this storm? And these wounds—did someone attack you?"
But the old woman stopped her, speaking gently. "Let her rest. Give her a moment."
The old woman knelt beside the stranger, her years of experience as a midwife guiding her. She had come that night to help deliver the baby of the woman already in the house, but fate had delivered her another.
Checking the stranger's pulse, she nodded firmly.
"You will deliver soon. What's your name, child?"
Through her tears, the woman whispered, "Sayura."
"Sayura... what a beautiful name," the other pregnant woman said softly. "Mine is Yuna."
"Please, tell us… what happened to you?" Yuna asked again.
But Sayura only wept harder.
Yuna moved closer, trying to comfort her. "Where is your husband? Are you alone?"
Suddenly, a sharp cry of pain burst from Sayura.
Her time had come.
The old woman hurried to prepare warm water, sheets, and medicine, while Yuna supported Sayura through the agonizing labor.
After what felt like endless hours, a new life entered the world—a beautiful baby girl. The child wailed loudly, her cries filling the room.
Yuna smiled with joy. "She's beautiful!"
Sayura sobbed, overwhelmed with happiness. She had become a mother.
But the old woman's eyes narrowed.
"There's another one."
A twin.
Sayura and Yuna were overjoyed—until the second child was born.
A baby boy.
But he did not cry.
The old woman worked desperately—pressing his chest, patting his back, trying everything she knew—but the boy's breath wouldn't come. His heartbeat slowed… then faded.
"He's gone…" she whispered, her voice breaking.
Tears flooded the room. Yuna wept. Sayura's cries shattered the silence.
Then—
A knock on the door.
Sayura's face turned pale. "It's them… the ones who were after me."
The knock came again—louder, heavier.
Panicked, they quickly closed Sayura's door, wrapping the still baby in soft cotton and placing him on the table. The newborn girl drank her mother's milk, unaware of the fear gripping the room.
The old woman hesitated—then, slowly, she opened the door.