My Hidden Identity Is a Prophet

My name was Yvette, the fourth daughter after three sisters.

My grandmother pampered me, hoping I could invite a younger brother into the family.

Soon, we received good news—my mother was pregnant again, and the village doctor said it was a boy.

But my grandmother's attitude towards me changed. She said all the good food, drink, and fun things should be saved for the baby boy.

I ended up just like my three older sisters, who also failed to invite a younger brother.

I cursed, "What's the use of bringing younger brother? It's almost like summoning a ghost."

As it turned out, my mother gave birth to a stillborn baby.

Gradually, I began to notice that everything I said seemed to come true...

***

My mother, nearly forty, was pregnant again. The family called a well-known village doctor to determine the baby's sex.

He said, "Based on my experience, there's a 99% chance it's a boy."

My grandmother happily pulled out all her savings, a wrinkled 200 dollars, and stuffed it into the doctor's hand.

Her face was wet with tears, but they were tears of joy she couldn't contain. "Wonderful! The Chad family will finally have a successor."

After the doctor left, I went to my grandmother to make good on her promise. "Grandma, if I've invited a younger brother for our family, does that mean I can go to school now?"

My grandmother shoved my hand away with such force that I, unprepared, fell to the ground.

"School, school! None of your three sisters went to school; why should you? Who do you think you are?"

She achieved her goal and revealed her true face.

I protested, "But you promised."

Grandma retorted, "You're already twelve; what's the point of going to school now? Look at your sisters. They can't even read, but they all married well. Especially your second sister; she got a dowry of sixty thousand dollars."

She began counting on her fingers. "Deborah, fifty thousand dollars; Lestie, sixty thousand dollars; and Amanda, the poorest marriage, only thirty thousand dollars. That's a total of 140,000 dollars, enough to build a house, but we still need a bit more for a bride."

Seeing my stubborn gaze, she shot me a disdainful look, as if she was looking at something dirty. "What bad luck, having to feed and clothe you. When you turn sixteen, I'll have your parents marry you off right away."

After speaking, she left without looking back.

Moments later, she shouted from the kitchen, "Yvette, come here and stoke the fire."

I muttered discontentedly, "Yvette, Yvette! What kind of girl has a name like that? Might as well call me Trouble!"