Chapter 4

Mom's hands froze. She went completely still.

For a split second, I thought she had finally realized I was sick, that she was finally going to show some concern...

Instead, her lips parted slowly:

"Are you... pregnant?"

A loud ringing sound exploded in my ears.

Before I could react, hard slaps rained down on my face, hitting me so violently I nearly lost my hearing.

"I knew it! I knew you did something shameless! That's why you were bleeding, wasn't it?! You disgusting little whore!"

I wanted so badly to tell her that wasn't true.

I was just dying. I hadn't done anything disgusting.

I was heaving so hard my stomach felt inside out, my lungs burning with agony.

Mom grew more hysterical, sobbing and screaming, raining blows down on my shoulders and chest.

"You won't rest until you've driven me into an early grave, will you?! So young and already behaving like pure trash!"

"Tell me! Whose baby is it?!"

My mouth was filled with vomit and blood. I shook my head weakly.

"No... it really isn't..."

At that, she hit me even harder, as if trying to beat me to death on the spot.

Mark grabbed her, clutching his chest in frustration. "Enough! We don't even know what's going on yet! Stop it!"

His shout made Mom snap her head toward him, her gaze dripping with suspicion.

"Mark? Is it yours?!"

"Speak! Have you two been sleeping together?! Tell me! Tell me!"

Mom completely broke down, pounding her fists against Mark's chest. He reached his boiling point and roared at me:

"Get the hell into your room!"

Darkness flashed before my eyes. My bones felt like they were filled with crushed glass. Leaning against the wall, I dragged my feet toward my bedroom.

Closing the door, the screaming in the living room continued.

My legs gave out, and I collapsed onto the floor. The world felt like it was caving in.

Mom kept screaming obscenities, kicking my door repeatedly.

"Bitch! You're just like your deadbeat father! Filthy! Disgusting!"

"If I find out who the man is, I'll marry you off to him tomorrow!"

...

As her voice slowly distorted, I drifted out of consciousness.

Mark finally managed to soothe Mom. Holding Amy close like a prized treasure, her breathing finally leveled out.

Mark suggested taking me to the clinic, but Mom shot him a venomous glare:

"I'm humiliated enough at home. You want me to go to the hospital and make a fool of myself in public?"

"And did you forget? It's almost midnight. It's Amy's birthday. Don't bring bad luck into this house."

At exactly midnight, the birthday song echoed cheerfully in the living room.

As if nothing had ever happened.

Once everyone had eaten their fill, Mom went to turn off the lights. Her eyes instinctively drifted toward my bedroom door.

Holding a piece of bread, she kicked my door hard.

"Starve yourself to death then. The bread is at the door. Eat it or don't."

She tossed the bread onto the floor, but the doorknob didn't budge.

Normally, I would have dashed out the very next second, picked up the bread, and shoved it into my mouth.

Irritation flared in her chest. She violently rattled the doorknob.

"You giving me the silent treatment, Hazel?! If you really starve to death, you'd be doing me a massive favor!"

Still, the figure she expected didn't appear.

Her scowl deepened. She shoved the door open with her hip and stepped inside.

Her foot bumped into something soft, limp, and warm on the floor.

Looking down, she saw my pale, lifeless face...