Chapter 2
I used my fork to pick up a rib and put it in my own bowl, took a bite, it was delicious. The seasoning was just right. I tried the chicken soup too; it wasn't salty at all, maybe even a little bland.
I put down my fork, picked up my bowl, and walked to the kitchen doorway, crouching down.
Nina looked up at me, a flicker of panic in her eyes, like she was afraid I might scold her too.
I put all the ribs from my bowl into hers.
"Eat the meat," I said.
She opened her mouth to say something, but I shook my head.
"Eat first," I told her.
My mom saw what I did from the other end of the table, her lips twisted in displeasure, but with the relatives watching, she kept quiet.
That night, I kept my distance from Nina. It wasn't that I didn't want to; I just didn't have the guts.
She lay on her side, her shoulder blades jutting out like butterfly wings, her spine so thin you could count every bone. After she fell asleep, she curled up into a ball, her hand clutching the blanket in her sleep, brow furrowed like she was trapped in a nightmare.
Once she was out cold, I slipped out of bed and headed to the study.
Our house was equipped with a smart security system I designed myself, my company actually specializes in this stuff. Eight cameras were watching over the living room, kitchen, dining room, hallway, balcony, and front door, with video uploaded to the cloud in real time and kept for 180 days.
I opened my laptop and logged into the control panel.
I set the date to start from the day I left for my business trip.
Ninety days' worth of footage.
I started from day one.
I watched it at double speed.
At 4:58 in the morning, the kitchen light flickered on.
On the surveillance feed, Nina showed up in an old T-shirt, hair all over the place, yawning as she started washing rice, looking half-asleep.
That was the very first day after I left home.
The relatives didn't show up until the third day.
But starting from the third day, the footage started to look different.
I stayed up all night, binge-watching three months of security footage.
On the third day, those "relatives" showed up.
On the footage, Dad was all smiles as he brought them back from the train station. The so-called second uncle walked in, scanning the place, his eyes lingering on the projection screen in the living room and the wine cabinet for ages.
Aunt's first words as she stepped inside were, "Wow, this house must be worth a lot."
Mom's expression soured for a second, but she forced a smile and said, "Come in, have a seat. Nina, serve some tea."
From that day on, this was Nina's daily grind:
Up at five in the morning, making breakfast for nine people. The three kids were picky, the oldest hated noodles, the middle one wouldn't eat eggs, and the youngest demanded fresh soy milk every morning, no excuses.
After breakfast, she'd clear the table, wash the dishes, and mop the floor. The kids would take off as soon as they finished, leaving cookie crumbs and empty milk cartons scattered all over the place.
Morning meant laundry. The adults' clothes went in the washer, but Second Aunt made her hand-wash the kids' stuff, said the machine would mess them up.
At noon, she'd cook lunch.
After lunch, she'd wash the dishes, then clean up all the sunflower seed and peanut shells Second Aunt had been piling up all morning.
In the afternoon, if she was lucky, she might get a few minutes to sit down, but most days there was always something else, Mom sent her out to the supermarket, the market, the pharmacy, or the dry cleaner.
Evening meant making dinner.
After dinner, she'd clean up the kitchen and run bathwater for the three kids. Aunt claimed their skin was sensitive, so they needed a special tub, no showers allowed.
We didn't even have a bathtub.
Nina had to buy an inflatable tub herself.
She could only bathe after everyone else was done. Most nights, she'd barely get halfway before the hot water was gone.
I skipped ahead to the fifteenth day in the footage.
On screen, Nina was hanging laundry on the balcony. Her phone rang, and she answered. Judging by her voice, it was her mom calling, asking if she was doing okay.
Nina told her she was fine, that everyone was nice to her, and reassured her mom not to worry.
After the call ended, she pressed her face into a damp shirt, her shoulders trembling for a long time.
I couldn't tell if she was crying. The security camera wasn't sensitive enough to catch sounds that quiet.
But the way her shoulders shook, I could feel it, even with my eyes closed.
Then I saw something that made my blood rush straight to my head.
Day twenty-two.
Nina was in the kitchen making dinner, her phone sitting by the stove. The screen lit up, caller ID said "Husband", that was me.
She quickly wiped her hands and reached for the phone.
But before she could grab it, Mom reached over and hit the end button.
Mom said, "You're busy, why bother with the phone? Just call him back later."
Nina froze for a second, then said, "Mom, that was Mark calling, "
"He's busy on a business trip. Don't bother him. I'll talk to him later," Mom cut her off.
Mom took the phone away without another word.
She just grabbed it right then and there.
I kept watching the footage.