Chapter 2

Early the next morning, Mom dragged me to the hospital.

Even when we reached the entrance, I dragged my feet, terrified to go in.

Memories of the day I was first diagnosed with stomach cancer flashed through my mind.

The fear and dread still made my heart pound out of my chest.

She glanced back at my hesitation and said coldly, "Ashamed of yourself now?"

"Stay right here. I'm going to get a check-in ticket."

Striding in her high heels, she briskly walked toward the kiosk.

That resolute, commanding silhouette of hers somehow brought a bizarre sense of comfort to my chest.

For as long as I could remember, Dad had rarely paid attention to me.

Whenever I got sick, it was always Mom running around the hospital with me in her arms.

Back then, her presence was like an immovable mountain standing behind me.

I never had to be afraid of anything.

Because no matter what happened, my mom was there.

Then everything changed.

My pain and illness became mere lies in her eyes.

From a very young age, I was forced to learn how to walk into hospitals alone, how to see doctors alone.

Now, watching her busy figure bustling around for my sake, a burning sting welled up in my eyes.

Even though she was only doing this because she was terrified my scandal would taint her new family.

Ticket in hand, she called to me from down the hall, "Come upstairs."

I knew very well that whatever exams she had in mind, they would definitely draw blood.

And the moment my blood was drawn, my terminal illness could no longer be hidden.

Yet at this very moment, a selfish impulse surged inside me.

I hurried over and walked slightly ahead of her.

A fragile, desperate glimmer of hope bloomed in my heart.

Let her find out.

When she knows, will she finally forgive me?

Will she care for me, take me to see specialists, and feed me medicine just like she did when I was a little girl?

If she knows, maybe I won't have to face this fatal diagnosis all alone anymore.

My pace quickened. I felt a sudden rush of urgent anticipation.

"Wait!"

Mom abruptly called out behind me.

She frowned, pulling me aside into a corner.

Her gaze turned strange and complicated as she told me to turn around.

I froze. "What is it?"

She stayed silent for a few seconds, then pulled a sanitary pad from her purse and shoved it into my hand.

"Go to the bathroom."

A warm trickle ran down my inner thigh. It was only then that I realized what had happened.

My period had started.

I walked into the restroom in a daze. When I came out, I took off my jacket and tied it around my waist to hide the stain.

Since this was the case, there was no chance I was pregnant.

And Mom didn't need to take me in for an exam anymore.

"What a waste of my time," she grumbled under her breath.

Suddenly, her phone rang.

The moment she answered, her voice softened to a gentle whisper.

"Mia? What's wrong at school, baby? Your tummy hurts? Mommy will come pick you up right now."

Hanging up, she spun on her heel in a panic and hurried toward the exit.

She didn't leave me with anything except an impatient glare.

"Stop causing me trouble."

I stood there, frozen on the cold hospital floor.

I watched silently until her figure completely vanished from sight.