Chapter 1
My daughter stayed back in the countryside, while my son grew up right by my side in Ovine.
When Debra was seven, she ran after my car, sobbing and stumbling, falling over again and again.
I didn't turn back. I just watched her become a tiny speck in the distance.
When Debra was nine, my mother-in-law from the countryside called, saying Debra kept crying because she missed me so much.
I didn't really care. I said, "She'll be fine in a couple of years."
When Debra turned eighteen, I wasn't there for her birthday. She didn't ask me for a birthday gift like she always did before.
It took me ten days to realize. I felt relieved, thinking she'd finally matured and become more understanding.
When Debra turned twenty-three, she should have been getting married, but her wedding never happened.
Instead, what I received was a diagnosis.
Debra had always been terrified of pain, and now she'd lost all her hair.
She didn't cry or throw tantrums at me anymore, and even her favorite sweets couldn't cheer her up.
She became so understanding, but it was I who ended up in tears.
*****
My husband, David, and I both grew up in rural countryside, so when faced with the choice between our careers and raising Debra, we chose our jobs without a second thought.
Debra was just three years old when we left her back in the countryside.
As work got busier, we called home less and less.
We didn't even return home for the holidays, all for a promotion and a raise.
When I finally saw Debra again, she was already seven.
I felt stunned when I saw her.
The little girl I used to pamper and dress up in cute clothes was nothing like before.
She wore a bright red cotton jacket, her cheeks cracked and bruised, with snot and eye crust messily wiped across her left cheek.
She looked like she belonged in that shabby place.
When she saw me, her eyes were timid and full of unfamiliarity, as if I were a stranger to her.
In no time, she turned and dashed back home, vanishing from my sight.
She didn't recognize me anymore.
That was my first reaction, and then a sour ache welled up inside me.
How did my beloved, chubby girl end up like this?
Before I could process it, David hopped out of the car, his arms full of gifts.
When we got home, my mother-in-law, Molly, smiled happily. We hadn't come back for the holidays in forever, and she was genuinely happy to see us.
While we were talking, Debra peeked through the crack of the bedroom door, watching us carefully.
Molly called out, "Debra! Come out! Your mom and dad are home!"
At that, Debra shot out like a rocket.
When she looked up at us, her eyes were filled with hope, excitement, and a trace of insecurity that was hard to notice.
She called out to me in a small voice, "Mom," reaching out to hug me.
I felt a swirl of emotions, but my body instinctively pulled away from her hug.
She stiffened, and the smile on her little face froze and vanished.
Molly was unaware of what had happened. Her voice was booming as always.
She said, "What's wrong, Debra? Are you so happy to see your mom that you're just staring? Isn't your mom beautiful? Didn't you say you missed her all the time?"
I glanced at my luxury wool shirt, then at her grimy red cotton jacket that looked like she'd worn it forever, and managed an awkward smile.
"I missed you too, Debra," I said.
I took out all the new clothes and hairpins I'd bought for her. I'd gotten several sets for every season.
Debra reached out and gently touched them, as if she was scared she'd ruin them.
My heart ached for her. But in the end, I still couldn't bring myself to give her a hug.
We only stayed home for two days, and during those two days, Debra was glued to me 24/7. She even wanted to come into the bathroom with me when I showered.
She loved to snuggle up to me and kept telling me how pretty I was.
I couldn't stop smiling. After I dressed her up, she looked like my cute little girl again.
It was like we'd never been apart.
When we left, Debra was crying her heart out, gasping for air.
She wasn't even as tall as the car's tire, but that didn't stop her from chasing after us.
She was crying and shouting for us not to leave, and in the rearview mirror, I saw her stumble and fall again and again.
It felt like someone was wringing my heart, but my son, Jacob, was barely a year old, and even though the nanny was watching him, I couldn't relax.
For those two years, Debra called me every single day without fail.
I'd never seen a daughter this clingy.
My colleagues' daughters were all smart, polite, mature, and pretty much self-sufficient.
Molly kept saying Debra was crying her eyes out all the time because she missed us so much.
I thought she was just exaggerating. She always made a mountain out of a molehill.
I remembered when David got a pay cut. Molly made it sound like he'd been fired, and suddenly every aunt and cousin was calling to check on us.
Debra probably casually told her she missed us.
I said offhand, "She'll get over it in a year or two."
Jacob was just a year old, and at that age, he needed all my attention. I could only focus on one child at a time.
Looking back, I thought I'd made the right decision.
After I hung up on Debra several times in a row, she started calling less and less.