Chapter 2

Dad noticed me spacing out and asked:

"What's wrong? Your mom's cake not good?"

I forced a smile and swallowed the cake:

"It's good. Tastes just like always."

It really was delicious—rich chocolate, plenty of crushed nuts, no problems there.

But the almond slices hadn't been removed.

Mom liked almond slices, but because I didn't, she never included them when making nut cake.

She'd done this for over twenty years without a single mistake.

But today, I tasted the bitter almond slices.

Mom sat across from me, nagging Dad about smoking less and reminding me not to stay up late in Germany, just like always.

She even gossiped about the neighbor Mary's daughter.

I smiled and responded, but inside I was growing cold.

She showed no signs of being different. Even certain small habits and her tone of voice were identical to Mom's.

But I clearly sensed she wasn't Mom at all.

I stole a glance at Dad. He kept his head down, eating, occasionally looking up to respond.

If Mom had been replaced, he should be the first to notice.

Yet he sat there peacefully, completely oblivious.

After dinner, I made an excuse to return to my room.

I opened my phone and pulled up Mom's social media account.

Her last post was three days ago—the day I returned home.

She'd posted a photo of an airplane with a caption:

"My little bird is finally coming home."

Very ordinary, very normal, in Mom's usual tone.

But the photo was wrong. It was too casual—the plane was crooked in the frame, the horizon tilted.

I zoomed in. The composition was completely haphazard.

It looked like someone had randomly raised their phone and pressed the shutter.

But Mom wasn't like that. She was meticulous about everything, with high standards for all tasks.

Even photographing a tree required her to adjust the angle for ages, ensuring every line in the frame was perfectly straight.

This photo wasn't taken by her.

It looked more like something deliberately taken to show me, to prove she was my mother.

My heart went cold. I kept scrolling.

On April 1st, Mom had posted a photo.

It was of roses in the garden.

The edges of the petals were outlined in golden sunlight, the background perfectly blurred, the horizon perfectly level.

This one was right.

I enlarged the photo, searching for differences bit by bit.

Suddenly I noticed something in the shadow of the rose stems in the lower left corner—a note, pressed under the flowerpot.

I zoomed in further. The note had a line of small text, in German.

Jeder Mensch ist geheimnisvoll.

Every person is mysterious.

Was this sentence a clue Mom deliberately left, or just coincidence?

I sent the sentence to my German classmate, who quickly replied.

Jeder Mensch ist geheimnisvoll. Du hast gar keine Ahnung, wie gut oder schlecht er ist, bis du ihn wirklich kennst und die Wahrheit siehst.

Every person is mysterious. You have no idea how good or bad they are until you truly know them and see the truth.

Why would Mom leave this sentence?

I suddenly remembered something from two years ago when Mom and I watched a TV show at home.

In the show, the female lead wanted a divorce, but the male lead coveted her family's wealth. He not only killed her but pushed her parents off a cliff.

When Mom saw that scene, she said this exact sentence.

And coincidentally, Dad really was a poor boy who married a rich girl.

Could it be that Mom had a conflict with Dad and wanted a divorce, which was why she wrote this?

If Mom wanted a divorce, what would she do first?

I sat bolt upright.

If I were Mom and wanted to leave a dangerous person, I'd transfer my assets first.

Then find a safe place. Germany?

I immediately called the airline's customer service.

"Hello, can you check if Chloe booked a flight to Germany in April?"

"Yes, Ms. Chloe booked a one-way ticket to Berlin on the evening of April 2nd."

My heart raced faster:

"Did she board the flight?"

"This ticket shows as unused."

I hung up.

The rose photo was posted April 1st. The ticket was for April 2nd.

But Mom never boarded.

Perhaps she never even left the house!