Chapter 2

Warm, sticky blood dripped down my arm into the bathtub.

A heavy metallic smell filled the air.

After the burning, sharp pain came coldness and numbness spreading through my entire body.

My vision began to blur.

I used my last bit of strength to turn on the faucet, hoping to leave with some dignity.

In the last moment before I closed my eyes completely, I heard angry shouting from outside the door.

"A woman's most important thing is her virginity, isn't it?"

"She even messaged me saying Mom isn't home, then gave me the door code."

"Friends, how else am I supposed to interpret that?"

My soul floated up into the air, and I saw the phone on the bathroom counter, still livestreaming.

The netizens in the livestream were frantically trying to stop my mother:

[If you want her dead, just kick open that door right now, point the camera at your daughter's face, tell her the whole world knows she's dating someone and about to give her first time to an online boyfriend. When she sees your face, let's hope she doesn't jump from the 34th floor.]

Others chimed in agreement.

[Your daughter only agreed to date you after she turned 18 on the SAT, and only because you deliberately manipulated her to find out her secrets. Is it possible that what she meant by "most important thing" isn't what you think it is?]

[Have you considered that you control her too much, which is why she doesn't dare tell you her secrets and has to trust strangers online instead?]

When I was in elementary school, my mom secretly installed cameras in my room.

If I so much as stretched, she'd immediately rush in with a feather duster.

"Your dad and I live apart so he can make money. I gave up my career for you. How can you treat us like this?"

By middle school, my mom didn't just control my words and actions—she wanted to control my thoughts, preferences, even my taste buds.

She forced me to eat durian, which I found disgusting.

"This smells so good! Where's the stink?"

But when I said a grape tasted sweet, she flew into a rage.

"Do you have no taste buds? This thing is so sour—where did you taste any sweetness?"

In recent years, my mom became obsessed with preventing me from dating.

She'd often sneak looks at my phone while I slept, checking my photos and Twitter.

I'd frequently thought about ending it all.

Until I connected with that boy online whose username was "Light."

I could share all my frustrations with him without burden. He became my reason to keep living.

Only now did I understand.

Why every little secret I told "Light"...

My mom would somehow "accidentally" discover shortly after.

I should have guessed!

Faced with the netizens' accusations, my mom broke down in tears on camera.

"Why is everyone blaming me! What did I do wrong? If I really did something wrong, could I have raised a daughter who got into Harvard?"

"You should be grateful it was me! If it had really been some gang member, he would have scammed her immediately!"

My mom forcefully opened the door and pointed her phone at the living room. Empty.

After a moment of confusion, she heard water running in the bathroom and roared furiously.

"So you really are fooling around with a man! You even know to shower before sex?!"