Chapter 3

Looking at the matter-of-fact expression on Eudora's face, my heart felt like it was being crushed in a giant fist.

What are real parents like?

I've seen it.

It's my mom, whose back was so worn out she could barely straighten up, still forcing a smile when she saw me, terrified I'd worry about her.

It's my mom, taking her hard-earned money and skimping on everything just so she could buy me candied fruit skewers.

Not like my dad, who took the compensation money from the construction site and gambled it all away, day after day.

Even my going to school, he thought that was a waste of money.

He was always going on about how Mom was gone, and now it was just the two of us left in this world, depending on each other to survive.

And I had to obey him unconditionally, do everything he said.

The moment my father saw me talk back to him over Blackie, Blackie's fate was sealed.

"Get out," I said calmly, looking at Eudora. "Take your filial devotion and get lost. We're done."

I ignored her attempts to stop me, opened the car door, and walked alone into the downpour.

I finally found an awning to shelter under, but the shopkeeper's face changed the instant he saw me.

"Out, out, out. We don't welcome ungrateful monsters here."

Countless eyes stabbed into me like needles, and the muttering rose and fell.

"Is this the ungrateful monster from the local feed?"

"What ungrateful monster?"

"You haven't heard? His dad rode twenty hours on a green-skinned train to come cook for him, and he wouldn't touch a single bite."

I shook my head miserably, wanting to explain.

In the end all I could do was type out a long clarification on my phone with shaking hands.

I attached the medical records from back when I saw the therapist, ready to lay out the whole story.

The next second the screen flashed.

Your account has received multiple complaints and is now permanently banned.

I froze for a moment as a wave of helplessness swept over me.

When everyone's decided you're wrong, no amount of explaining does any good.

When I pushed open the door to the house, soaked through, my dad was sitting cross-legged on the sofa.

The plate of braised pork knuckle on the table had gone stone cold, the white grease congealed on the surface.

"Dad, what is it you actually want?"

I braced myself weakly against the table, my face pale as I looked at him.

"That dead rat today—you sent it, didn't you?"

The recipient's name read Little Will—only my dad ever called me that.

Back then Mom was still alive, and we were a happy family.

Dad always liked to call me Little Will, dragging out the words as he called me home to eat.

My favorite was his braised pork belly, fatty but not greasy, good enough to make me eat two bowls of rice.

"I'm being torn apart online by the whole internet, I've even lost my job. Are you really trying to drive me to my death?"

Dad jabbed at the TV remote at random and let out a cold laugh.

"Drive you to your death? Do you know how much money those users tipped for this one video alone? A hundred thousand!"

"How long would it take you to earn that kind of money?"

His eyes were full of greed. "I've already worked it out with the viewers. Tonight at eight, you're going on a livestream with me, and you'll eat this meat in front of the whole internet."

"Then kneel and apologize to me, and we'll call this whole thing done."

Looking at that dish of pork knuckle giving off its greasy stink, my stomach heaved.

"Why is it that I don't eat meat? Don't you know?"

I screamed hysterically, "How can you be this cruel?"

Crack!

A loud slap landed hard across my face.

My dad's face twisted with rage as he seized me by the collar. "Let me tell you, Will Fox—if you dare cut off my money, I'll scatter your mother's ashes and make sure she never rests, even in death!"

At those words, my body, which had still been struggling, went rigid in an instant.