Chapter 4

The freezing water engulfed me, but a sudden, violent surge of survival instinct took over. I thrashed wildly until a kind passerby pulled me out onto the bank.

The terrifying brush with death made me realize one thing: I was still alive.

Before jumping, I couldn't understand why I had to live like a walking corpse.

After being pulled out, only one sentence echoed in my mind: Only by staying alive is there hope.

When I crept back into the house, dripping wet, Mom was on the phone with Grandma.

"I don't care if she hates it. I'm going to force Nora to do whatever she hates most until she learns who the boss is in this damn house!"

Her vicious words shattered whatever remaining illusions I had.

All of this torture was just to feed her pathetic, sadistic craving for control.

Right then, one thought cemented in my mind: I have to escape.

The next morning, Mom did something unprecedented. She handed me a pretty floral dress and ordered me to put it on.

She frowned at me, clearly dissatisfied, until she slapped a beanie with long synthetic hair attached onto my head, completely hiding my jagged buzzcut.

She then dug out an expensive dress she only wore for high-end events and carried a designer handbag she had borrowed from a friend. Glitzed up, she dragged me out the door.

It was our annual court-mandated visitation day with Dad.

Mom had fought tooth and nail in court to ensure she was present for every single meeting.

When we arrived at the shopping mall, Dad was waiting by the fountain. Mom strutted forward, twisting the glittering diamond ring on her finger while shooting him condescending looks.

She had spent an entire year's savings on that stupid ring just to show off.

Dad didn't spare her a single glance.

The moment I saw him, I threw myself into his arms. Dad held me tight.

A flash of pure venom crossed Mom’s face.

Taking advantage of a moment when Mom stepped away to order coffee, I grabbed Dad's sleeve and begged in a trembling whisper:

"Dad, please take me with you. I'll be good, I swear. I barely eat anything. I can sleep on the balcony, anywhere..."

I ripped off the beanie, revealing the pathetic, patchy fuzz on my scalp and the deep purple bruises along my collarbone.

Dad's eyes welled with tears as his hand trembled over my head.

He opened his mouth to speak.

Suddenly, his phone lit up on the table. The lock screen showed a photo of a glowing, happy family of three—him, a radiant woman, and a toddler giggling in her arms.

Dad froze, his words dying in his throat.

I understood instantly.

Swallowing the lump of glass in my throat, I forced a bright smile and changed the subject.

Dad let out a quiet, barely noticeable sigh of relief.

The tiny spark of hope that had flickered in my chest went completely dark.

Before we parted, Dad secretly shoved a wad of cash into my hands.

I didn't decline. I jammed the bills deep inside the lining of my boot, terrified Mom would see.

What I didn't realize was that Mom had been watching us from around the corner the entire time.

The moment we walked through our front door, her face contorted in rage.

"You want to run away from me too, don't you? Just like that heartless bastard!"

Her shriek was deafening.

She ripped the beanie off my head, grabbed a fistful of my short hair, and slammed my face against the full-length mirror.

"Look at yourself! Who would ever want a freak like you? Huh?! Hahaha!"

"You're just like me now! Abandoned trash!"

In the glass, I saw a stranger: hollow eyes, sunken cheeks, uneven hair—neither girl nor boy, barely even human.

My heart plummeted into an abyss, freezing solid.

I had thought that if I obeyed, Mom would soften.

Now I knew: nothing I did would ever change her.

A slow, deliberate plan began taking shape in my head.