Chapter 4

The night was deep and quiet.

I couldn't sleep well, feeling like someone was standing right by my bed, watching me.

Was it my dad? Did he find me here?

I was so scared that I didn't dare move, holding my breath.

Suddenly, a pillow was pressed down hard over my face.

The scent of cotton and the choking sensation rushed into my nose.

I couldn't breathe, kicking and flailing, but my hands found nothing to hold onto.

Just when I thought I was about to die, the pillow was abruptly pulled away.

The one who was holding me down slipped away, their footsteps barely audible.

I gasped for air, and then caught a whiff of a familiar, comforting scent.

It was my mom's scent.

I shot up and pressed my face into the spot where that person had just stood, desperately sniffing for any trace.

The air still held a faint hint of the fragrance, exactly how my mom always smelled.

I was sure that the person just now was Mom.

She came to see me. She didn't leave me behind.

At the thought, all that fear and panic just disappeared in an instant. I hugged my pillow tight and rolled around on the bed, giggling with happiness until I was totally out of breath.

In the end, I drifted off to sleep, smiling and as happy as could be.

The next morning, the door swung open.

I glanced over, eyes wide with excitement. It was my mom.

She stood in the doorway, sunlight streaming in behind her, looking just like a pretty painting come to life.

I leapt off the bed and dashed over, eager to throw my arms around her.

But her expression was icy, colder than winter itself.

I stopped in my tracks, too scared to go any closer.

She stared at me with a look I couldn't decode, almost like she was disgusted. Then she threw something my way.

It was a coat.

"I bought this for you," my mom said, her voice icy and cold.

The coat landed at my feet, and I snatched it up in a hurry.

My heart leaped with joy.

The coat was a bit wet and chilly, but it didn't matter. If it was from Mom, it was the best—no doubt about it.

I eagerly shoved my arms into the sleeves.

The instant the fabric brushed against those raw, picked scabs on my arms, a blast of unbearable pain shot through me.

It was like a thousand red-hot needles mercilessly stabbing into my flesh all at once.

The burning agony crawled deeper into me, snaking through every raw wound.

I shrieked, overwhelmed by the pain, collapsed to the ground, and writhed desperately.

But the more I rolled, the more the coat scraped against my raw wounds, and the pain flared even worse.

Suddenly, I caught the sound of my mom laughing.

Her laugh was crisp and lively, like wind chimes swaying in the breeze—and for a split second, I almost thought it sounded beautiful.

I couldn't believe it—was Mom glad to see me like this?

Did I make her happy?

Just thinking that made me forget all about the pain.

Just so my mom could laugh a little longer, I rolled around even harder on the floor, groaning louder in pain.

If Mom was happy, it didn't matter how much it hurt.

The pain was so overwhelming that my vision started to blur, and everything turned dark around me—I felt myself slipping in and out of consciousness.

Just then, Lucas stormed in.

He yelled at my mom, "Have you lost your mind? This coat is drenched in mustard water. Are you trying to kill her?"

I had no idea what mustard water was. But I knew Lucas would upset Mom.

I was frantically screaming in my mind, "Please, just stop. Don't say another word. Mom smiled at me."

But I couldn't make a sound.

Everything went black, and I passed out completely.