Chapter 2

My heart jumped. I quickly asked what he meant.

He explained at length:

"A groomed companion is a product customized to satisfy a wealthy person's preferences. He gives your parents money or other benefits, and they raise you according to his requirements to become exactly what he wants."

"When you come of age and meet his standards, you'll become the rich man's mistress."

I instinctively resisted accepting this, but thinking carefully, my sister and I were twins, yet our parents educated us completely differently.

For example, Mom bought Jennifer all kinds of pretty clothes, but always made me dress like a nun. She said:

"Claudia, this is for your own good. Your clothes are all silk—they guarantee your skin stays delicate and smooth."

Mom glanced at my sister with disdain. "Jennifer isn't like you. She's vulgar, she likes these flashy rough fabrics. She deserves the bumps they leave all over her skin."

I clutched the black clothes in my hands, not daring to make a sound.

Actually, I also wanted to wear pretty clothes like a normal little girl.

But whenever I brought it up, my parents would look severe.

"Claudia, we've spent so much effort raising you, and you're learning bad habits from others, only thinking about looking pretty. How disappointing!"

In middle school, after gym class, I secretly went to the school store and bought a bottle of cold soda.

When I got home, Dad found the empty bottle. He stormed to school, dragged me out of the classroom, and made me stand under the scorching sun as punishment for three hours.

Students passing by pointed and whispered about me.

I lowered my head in embarrassment, but Dad insisted I keep my neck straight.

He gripped my back and made me recite loudly with him: "I promise never to drink any beverage except water again, or may I die a horrible death."

I bit my teeth in grievance, tears welling in my eyes.

But Dad showed no mercy. "Say it!"

Like a wooden puppet, I stood stiffly under the sun, making that vicious oath over and over.

When school finally let out, Jennifer drank a big gulp of Coke in front of me, then poured the rest over my head.

The brown liquid soaked my hair and ran into my mouth.

She laughed mockingly: "Claudia, now that you've drunk a beverage, why aren't you dead yet?"

The ridicule and mockery around me crawled into my ears like poisonous snakes.

I clenched my fists hard, letting my fingernails dig into my palms.

Remembering every incident over the past eighteen years, my fingers flew across the keyboard.

"Please, how can I confirm whether or not I'm a groomed companion?"