Chapter 5

Mom bought a lot of strawberries from the market. After washing them, she came to my brother's grave.

My brother and I both loved strawberries.

But our family's circumstances weren't easy. We could only have them once or twice a year.

Each time, my brother would give me his share, only tasting one himself.

Mom would praise my brother for being thoughtful, but never said anything about me.

But ever since my brother died, Mom would buy strawberries from time to time to visit him.

When I followed behind wanting to taste one, it made Mom angry and she left me halfway.

After that, I grew to hate strawberries. I haven't eaten one once in all these years.

Mom knelt by my brother's gravestone, greedily hugging it. Tears soon covered her face.

I was so envious of my brother.

Envious that Mom could keep loving him.

Mom loved me too.

But these past few years, she never hugged me, never praised me.

I really, really wanted to hug Mom.

Mom suddenly remembered something and stopped crying.

She went a short distance away to get a basin of water and poured it where I had knelt.

Then she took a broom and swept.

"Starlight, from now on Mom won't bring that jinx here anymore, so she won't offend your eyes."

"Don't worry, I'll make her atone for you for the rest of her life. What she owes you, she can never repay."

I stood to the side, tears all dried up.

I had cried them all out.

Why?

Mom, why do you hate me so much?

I didn't deliberately seduce that terrifying man back then.

He tried to tear my clothes. My brother was accidentally killed trying to protect me.

I explained it to Mom many times. Mom kept insisting I was a slut.

But I really wasn't a slut. Why doesn't anyone believe me?

I couldn't leave Mom, so I could only follow her alone.

On the way down the mountain, Mom ran into a bachelor from the village.

I remembered him—his name was Rick Newman, and I was most afraid of him.

In previous years, after Mom visited the neighbors with me on Christmas night, she would leave me at his house.

He forced me to wash his clothes and cook. But I was only eight years old then. I couldn't wash clothes properly or reach the table.

He would take out a leather strap to whip my bottom and body, threatening me not to tell Mom.

I knew Mom wouldn't believe me, so I never told her about my injuries.

Mom never cared about me either, so she never noticed the scars on my body.

"Susan, why didn't you bring your daughter last night? I still have a lot of dirty clothes waiting for her to wash."

Mom pushed him away impatiently. "That damn girl is throwing a tantrum at me. I'll send her over in a couple days to work on her attitude. Just mentioning her makes me sick!"

I was shocked to hear this.

So Mom knew he made me wash clothes and cook.

So she also knew I was beaten.

Rick Newman didn't plan to let Mom go so easily. He blocked her path.

"If your daughter won't come, then you come."

"Your husband's never home. How about..."

Mom stepped on Rick Newman's face and went straight down the mountain.

I watched Mom return home looking lost, feeling terrible inside.

I wanted to hug her, comfort her.

Facing threats from such a vicious person, Mom must have been scared too, right?

Mom had barely sat down when Dad called.

"Susan, you said Hannah was home, so why would Mrs. Peterson tell me she's at the hospital and has no vital signs!"

I felt a little happy.

Was Mom finally going to discover I was dead?

I wondered if she would be sad for me when she found out.

But Mom's first reaction was to think Mrs. Peterson was lying.

"She's talking nonsense!"

"She must be cursing my daughter because I scolded her yesterday and she's upset. Don't let her fool you!"

Dad thought about it and agreed it was impossible.

After all, Mom had made me keep vigil at my brother's grave for a year before. There was a small house there with everything we needed. Nothing could happen to me.

"Alright, don't go cause trouble for her. As long as Hannah is fine. Just don't leave the child alone outside anymore."

After hanging up, Mom angrily rushed to my door, frantically pounding on it.

"Hannah, you're nothing but trouble!"

"You've been in there all day and still won't come out. You've really got some nerve!"

"Being this willful, how can you face your brother?"

Instead of my response, Mom heard an even more violent pounding at the front door.

Mom cursed as she went to open it. It was Mrs. Peterson and two police officers.

Mom swallowed the curses she wanted to say to Mrs. Peterson and smiled gently at the officers.

"Officers, what brings you here so suddenly?"

One of the officers unfolded a white document and said to Mom:

"Hello, are you a family member of Hannah Sweetwater? Hannah died at 2 AM last night after failed resuscitation attempts. This is the death certificate. We need to ask you some questions."