The Land Development Project

The voice on the other end was broken and faint, with blood in it, like paper soaked in water—fragile enough to crumble with a squeeze. It was Sally Sewell, my wife Mandy Sewell's younger sister. She sobbed, saying she had finally conceived a boy this time, but the child inside her felt like it was going to tear her apart. My hand clutching the mobile phone trembled as I asked her for the exact location. The mountain signal was weak, and static kept cutting off her words. "Murphy, they won't call an ambulance, but they keep pressing my belly with a rolling pin because of their so-called folk remedy works..." Before she could finish, Mandy burst out of the kitchen. Her apron was stained with soap suds. She grabbed my wrist holding the phone, her nails digging into my skin with a force that felt like she wanted to crush my bones. The next moment, the phone smashed onto the marble floor. The screen cracked like a spider's web. Sally's crying abruptly stopped, leaving only the crackling hiss of electricity. "Murphy Charles, can you just stop doing this?" Mandy slammed her apron on the ground, her chest rising and falling sharply. "Trying to push your sister into divorcing again? Better to be a peacemaker than a home-wrecker. How can you be so heartless?" I stared at the shattered pieces of the phone on the ground, my throat tightening. It turned out she had always thought it was my younger sister, Yvonne Charles, calling for help on the phone. "If it weren't for Howard's kindness, finding your sister a great husband," Mandy bent down, pulled out many one-hundred-dollar notes from her wallet, flicked her fingers, and the bills fluttered onto my face. "With her bookish look, she's bound to end up an old spinster sooner or later." The bill lay at my feet, the corner of the paper curling up in the wind. I recalled what Sally had said on the phone—the villagers pressing on her belly, that twisted cry she let out—and my stomach churned. "This is the bride price," Mandy said, hands on her hips, chin held high. "You've taken the money, so don't make a fuss anymore, got it? Know the rules?" I looked at her, suddenly feeling like a stranger—this woman I'd been married to for three years, who once vowed we'd live well together, now looked at me with pure contempt. "What about your family's dowry?" She reached out, trying to snatch the wallet from my pocket. "You can't just take the bride price without the dowry, can you? Is your family a bunch of beggars?" I took a step back, my voice cold as ice: "You'll be the one paying the dowry." Mandy was stunned for two seconds before exploding in anger. She grabbed a glass from the table and smashed it on the floor; shards scattered near my ankle, cutting a line of blood. "Murphy, is your family glued to me or what? Your sister is getting married, and you want me to pay the dowry?" "If you've got time to argue with me, you might as well call your dad and have him hurry up and scrape together the money," she stepped over the broken glass, her eyes sharp as poison. "I'm telling you the truth—no one wanted your sister from the start. What they want is someone who can bear healthy children." "If it weren't for Howard helping to arrange it, do you think she could have gotten married?" Mandy sneered, "I suggest you hurry up and send the dowry, or if your sister ends up being bullied in her in-laws' house, don't say I didn't warn you." I locked eyes with her and suddenly asked, "How long has it been since you last contacted Sally?" Mandy's face changed in an instant, like a cat that's just been stepped on its tail. She grabbed my collar, her nails digging almost into my neck. "What do you want? Trying to make a move on Sally? I'm telling you, if you so much as touch her, I won't let you off!" I watched her furious face and suddenly laughed. Sally was her only kin in this world; she used to dote on this younger sister—once a little hooligan whistled at Sally, she brought a bodyguard and turned that whole street upside down, beating up anyone in floral shirts. But now, she tricked her own sister into the mountains where there's not even a signal. I bent down, trying to pick up the shattered mobile phone on the ground, hoping at least to check the call records for a number. But Mandy stomped on the back of my hand, the heel of her stiletto grinding down. "You still want to contact her?" Her voice was thick with contempt. "From the city to that mountain village takes at least four hours. If she can make it through, she wouldn't need saving; if she can't, calling now won't help." I stifled the pain in the back of my hand and looked up at her.