Chapter 1

I travelled in time and went back to 13 years ago. I found my deadbeat dad, George Robertson, who was thinking of nothing but getting rich by kidnapping.

I told him that he would get caught red-handed by the cops and be tortured in jail if he laid a finger on my mom, Daisy Dotson, and that he would become homeless and lead a miserable life after he got out of jail.

Frightened, George quickly tossed away his tools and gave me his word that he would make an honest living.

I flashed a smile at him as my body vanished bit by bit.

"Mom, you won't be trapped in the mountains this time. There will be no kidnapping, and you can lead a life you want," I muttered.

*****

When I found George, he was crouching in a corner and tying a slipknot at one end of the rope. There was a damp black cloth at his feet.

In thirty minutes, my mom would walk past this corner, and George would kidnap her as planned.

Without hesitation, I rushed over and slapped George in the face.

My hard smack made George turn his head and left a clear mark on his left cheek.

It took him a couple of seconds to recover from shock. Then, he sprang to his feet, his eyes blazing with fury.

"Who the hell are you? How dare you slap me!" he shouted.

I squared my shoulders, looked him in the eye, and deliberately raised my voice. "Who am I? I'm your mom!"

He froze, and so did his expression. As if he hadn't heard me clearly, he repeated with knitted eyebrows, "What the hell are you talking about?"

Looking at him, I let out a cold snort. "Five years old, you drank the beer your dad hid in the closet, got tipsy, and started mistaking a hen for a girl. Never will I forget that. Will you?"

Instantly, George's expression changed.

I added, "When you were six, you had a fever at midnight. I took you to the hospital. I hummed Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star all the way to embolden you because there were no street lamps. You complained that I sang badly."

I had overheard these little stories 13 years later when George tried to delight my mom with them. I didn't expect them to help at such a moment.

"When you were eight, you kept pestering me for money to buy fish..." I continued.

Right then, George interrupted me by saying, "Okay, okay. I believe in you."

I took one step closer to him, glared at him, and said, "Do you know why I am back here? Listen, I came to save you, good-for-nothing."

I deliberately squared my shoulders. Then, I gave him another slap before he straightened things out.

"Do you really think that you can get rich by kidnapping? With that brain, can you have a good future? I clearly saw from heaven that you can't provide for yourself at all. You jerk don't work, and you are engaged in petty theft," I said.

I didn't frame him. Everyone in our neighborhood knew that he was light-fingered.

After one meaningful glance at his good legs, I said gravely, "Listen, you will get caught red-handed by the cops if you stick to your plan today. In jail, your jail buddy will break one of your legs. You will be laughed at for your cripple after you get out of jail."

Instantly, George turned pale, and he couldn't help but look down at his own legs.

I lied. He wouldn't get caught by the cops, and his jail buddy wouldn't break his leg.

His kidnapping of my mom would be successful. He and my mom would be on the run from the police and end up in the mountains.

My mom would be trapped in the mountains for the next thirteen years.

In those years, he was good to my mom, and he didn't beat her as other men did to their wives. They were poor, but he gave her the best he could get.

However, I knew that Mom longed for freedom outside the mountains.

Later, my mom seized the chance to run away. George accidentally fell off the mountain and broke his leg during his chase after my mom.

George swallowed. His voice became shaky. "You... Are you really my mom? Stop pretending. I am scared."

I picked up the rope from the ground. Beating him fiercely, I said, "Are you? What about that poor woman you are trying to kidnap? Won't she be scared?"