Chapter 2

I stared at the newly appeared words on the diary, my fingertips burned. I hastily shoved the diary into my embrace, pressing it tight.

"Mia, eat quickly, then go."

Mom's voice was timid and husky, her hand still trembling slightly. As she fed me, the bruise on her wrist brushed my cheek, cold and painful.

"Mom can't leave. Your dad's ruined his stomach with all his drinking; if I leave, he won't even have a hot meal. And your brother…"

I pushed the bowl away, grabbing her hand, and lowered my voice: "Mom! How long are you going to be this foolish? He doesn't love you, and he certainly doesn't love me!"

"He sold me to buy that so-called brother of mine a gaming console! And to buy himself more booze!"

The spoon in Mom's hand clattered into the bowl, soup splashed out, and she nervously tried to wipe it, her eyes darting away.

She knew, all along, that Dad had cheated on her and Leo wasn't his son.

She'd merely built a fragile illusion of safety with her endless patience, naively believing that submission could buy her a semblance of peace.

I looked pleadingly into my mom's eyes, even beginning to beg.

"Mom, please, let's go. Just for me, okay?"

In that moment, for the first time, I saw a crack in her muddy, tear-filled eyes, a glimmer of hesitation.

Mom looked at my tear-streaked face, then touched the fresh wounds on her own. Her eyes slowly changed. She hesitated for a long time.

Finally, she said nothing, but she picked up the hammer again, hammering even more desperately at the chain on my ankle.

The sparks flying from the hammer and chain were like hope igniting in my heart.

But the next second, my hope shattered.

My dad came back.

He rushed over, cursing, and with a swift kick, sent Mom sprawling to the ground.

"What the hell are you doing with that hammer? Trying to free this worthless burden? Ruin my payday?!"

Mom swayed under the impact, a trickle of blood seeping from the corner of her mouth, yet she instinctively shuffled half a step towards me, her voice trembling beyond recognition.

"Mia is still young, Mr. Jenkins is old enough to be her grandfather. Please, spare her just this once…"

"Spare? Who'll spare me?"

"I've fed and clothed her for years, how much money has that cost me? $500 is cheap for her! Anyone who tries to stop me today, I'll break their legs!"

Soon, many neighbors, all from our village, gathered at the doorway.

They whispered and pointed, but no one stepped forward.

Aunt Carol sighed, turning her face away; Uncle Frank squatted on the ground, smoking, shaking his head in silence.

No one asked if I was willing, no one cared about the wounds on my mom's body.

Mom's reddened eyes slowly dimmed. That glimmer of hesitation, extinguished as if by cold water.

She hung her head, her shoulders trembling slightly, and then suddenly, she knelt.

"I was wrong, I won't stop you. Please, don't hit me anymore."

She wiped the blood and tears from her face, her voice as meek as dust.

"Mia… Mia will do as you say. She'll go live with Mr. Jenkins."

My heart plummeted straight into an icy abyss with her words.

The hope the diary brought, and Mom's retreat at this moment, felt like two knives tearing at me.

Just then, an angry voice echoed from outside the courtyard gate.

"What the hell are you talking about!"