Chapter 3

Yes, I had been shoved into the washing machine.

Eleanor had ordered Martha to starve me. But whenever Martha wasn't looking, I would crawl around looking for crumbs. Annoyed by my constant movement, Martha had simply thrown me into the washing machine drum.

Out of sight, out of mind.

"Eleanor! How could you let your mother put the baby in there?"

Eleanor was genuinely shocked when she saw me in the washing machine. She didn't even yell back at Richard. Instead, she turned to Martha.

"Mom, why did you put Chloe in the washing machine?"

"Didn't you say she needed to lose weight? A few spins in the dryer would definitely shake the fat off her!"

Hearing Martha’s ridiculous logic, the usually silent Richard finally snapped.

"Martha, that machine is for laundry! She is a baby! What if you had killed her?"

"What could possibly happen? I’m an elder, I have experience! Do you think I don't know what I'm doing?"

"Mind your own business!"

Seeing that Richard dared to talk back to her, Martha exploded, screaming and cursing at him.

But Richard was truly angry this time. No matter how much she yelled, he didn't back down. Finally, Eleanor couldn't stand the noise and cut them off.

"Richard! My mother is your elder. How dare you raise your voice at her?"

"The baby is fine, isn't she? What is there to argue about?"

Because Richard had been poor when they were young, and Eleanor had stayed with him through his early struggles, he always yielded to her out of gratitude.

The moment Eleanor spoke, Richard's anger died down, though he muttered a resentful, "It’ll be too late when something actually happens." He picked me up and marched into his study.

I tried to make him understand that I was starving. I grabbed his hand and began chewing on his fingers. He finally got the message, looked at me with pity, and carried me back to Eleanor for a feeding.

But Eleanor looked at him coldly and slammed the door in his face.

"She’s already five ounces heavier than Clara. Why on earth should she eat?"