Chapter 3

What really surprised me was that, given the circumstances, Emma was putting on her best "well-behaved girl" act.

Unlike Emma's sweet and obedient act, Hazel had always been a bit of a tomboy since she was little.

She wasn't into princess dresses or Barbie dolls.

She loved toy cars of every kind and preferred dressing in a cool, fuss-free way.

One day after school, as soon as I walked through the door, I heard Mom yelling in Hazel's room. "If you don't want it, there are plenty of others who do. From now on, I'm not buying you anything ever again."

"Mom, it's not that I don't want the things you buy me. I just don't like them," Hazel sniffled, her voice thick with tears.

I instantly dropped my backpack and rushed into the room, wrapping Hazel in a protective hug.

Hazel's eyes were filled with unshed tears, but she stubbornly refused to let any fall.

Emma stood right next to Mom, and even at her age, she already knew how to stir up trouble. "Mrs. Moore, please don't be mad at Hazel. She's not like me. If I had a mom as nice as you, I'd treasure everything you gave me."

[I'm literally about to cry. Poor FL, all of this should've been hers.]

[It's honestly heartbreaking that the FL was abused by that monster of a mom, but she still managed to stay so kind. That takes real strength.]

[Guys, is it just me or does the FL seem kind of two-faced here?]

[How is she two-faced? Melissa wouldn't even appreciate it if she got all that stuff. She doesn't deserve any of it.]

Once again, a flood of comments scrolled across my vision.

"Emma, you're always so sweet. Fine, you can have all of it," Mom declared, blatantly favoring Emma.

Then she glared at Hazel, all cold and superior. "I won't buy you anything ever again. Trying to be kind to you is pointless."

Hazel clung to my leg, her little body trembling.

I hugged Hazel tightly, my voice ice-cold. "You know yourself whether you're actually being nice, or if you're just trying to manipulate Hazel to get your way."

"Melissa, what is that attitude? I'm your mother!" Mom burst out, her face still swollen from the injections, looking almost doughy—she couldn't even show much emotion, no matter how angry she got.

Back in my previous life, I refused to do everything exactly the way she wanted, and Emma was just a pro at sweet-talking her—so she ended up liking Emma even more.

That was just human nature. I got it.

But what I couldn't take was her going along with Emma to keep my stomach cancer a secret from me.

'She calls herself my mom, but is this really how a mother should act?' I thought, disappointment heavy in my chest.

I didn't even bother arguing anymore—holding Hazel close, I just left and went straight back to my room.

As soon as we stepped into the room, Hazel threw her arms around my neck, her voice soft and choked with sobs as she cried, "Melissa, Mom says that all girls have to love Barbie dolls, and if you don't, then you're not a good girl."

Hazel sniffled, "I don't want to be bad, but I just don't like Barbie dolls…"

I gently brushed away the tears on her cheeks and asked, "Hazel, do you trust me?"

Hazel scrubbed her face with her sleeve, then nodded hard at me, her little head bobbing with determination.

I looked her in the eyes, my tone gentle but firm. "Girls can totally love toy cars, and boys can love Barbie dolls. It doesn't matter what toys you like—that doesn't decide whether you're a good or bad kid.

"As long as you're not stealing or taking things that don't belong to you, you can like anything you want."

Hazel's eyes lit up and she squeezed my neck tightly. "Melissa, you're the best. You're my favorite!"

Kids really were like that—their moods could swing by so quickly.

I gently patted her back, and once she couldn't see my face, my expression darkened.

No matter how many lives I lived, before Hazel ever came along, Mom was always like this with me.

She never truly cared about me, but when it came to the little things, I was expected to follow her every demand.

I had to wear whatever clothes she bought, and any toys she gave me were the ones she liked—I wasn't even allowed an opinion.

If my grades dropped even a little, all I got from her were harsh words and a beating.

If I ever got into any sort of conflict with someone, she never cared about the truth—she just assumed I was causing trouble for her.

But in this lifetime, Dad treated me like his lucky star and wouldn't let her have her way. Since she couldn't boss me around anymore, she started taking out her frustrations on Hazel instead.

But I was not about to let her win.

After I comforted Hazel and made sure she was feeling better, I stepped out only to catch Emma carrying all the princess dresses and Barbie dolls—Mom's gifts—straight out of Hazel's room, as if she was claiming all the loot for herself.

She glanced up and met my eyes, not missing my presence for a second.