Chapter 3

What Richard hated most was anyone bringing up five years ago.

I looked at him and suddenly remembered the many years ago when I used to watch from the window, waiting for him to come home.

I was little then, and Mom always defended him.

She said Dad's company was going through a tough time, and things would get better after this rough patch.

Then one day, Richard came home, looking terrible. He sat at the dining table in silence for a long time before telling Mom that the company's finances had collapsed, he was in debt, and he was afraid of dragging us down, so he wanted a divorce first.

Mom's face turned pale that day.

But she didn't blame him.

She only asked one question: "Is it really that hard?"

Richard nodded.

After that, Mom took out all the money she'd saved during their marriage—bank cards, savings passbooks—she gave him everything, keeping nothing for herself.

She also took on many odd jobs, sewing clothes for others during the day and helping out in the kitchen of a small restaurant at night, wanting to help him get through that difficult period together.

Back then, what I looked forward to most every day was coming home from school and waiting by the window.

Waiting for him to open the door, waiting for him to pick us up.

Mom always said, "Just wait a little longer, Dad will come when he's not so busy."

I believed it for a long time.

Until later, Richard came again and said that the house also had to be collateral for his debts, and we needed to move out.

Mom still believed him.

She took me to live in the cheapest rental apartment in the run-down part of town, continued to work desperately, and continued to wait for him.

But it wasn't long before news of Richard's remarriage was everywhere—on TV, phones, and big screens in shopping malls.

The wedding venue was grand, the lights were bright, and there were many people.

Vivian stood beside him in a wedding dress, and Ethan stood between them, like a child recognized by everyone.

The host said it was the picture of a perfect family of three.

Mom held her phone, her hand trembling.

She watched for a long time before finally coming to her senses. She took me in a taxi to the wedding venue.

But we couldn't even get inside.

Security guards blocked us, and everyone around was staring.

Mom explained repeatedly that she just wanted to see Richard and get some answers.

But no one would let us through.

Later, Richard saw us across the crowd.

I thought he would come over.

But the next second, Vivian clutched her stomach and leaned into his arms, claiming she couldn't handle the stress.

Richard immediately told the security guards to drag us out.

"Don't let them cause a scene here."

Those were the last words he said.

When Mom and I were pushed out of the hotel entrance, it was raining outside.

Mom was drenched but refused to leave, staring at the lights inside.

Later, I chased after Richard, refusing to let go, grabbing his jacket corner and asking him why.

He got annoyed and just shook me off.

I tumbled down the steps, my ear hitting the railing. The pain was so intense I couldn't hear anything.

Mom held me and rushed to several hospitals. The doctors made it clear: if treated early, there was still hope.

But we didn't have the luxury of "early."

Thinking of this, I looked up at Richard.

"Aren't you supposed to be the best at protecting her and her son? Now you can't even stand to hear the truth?"

Richard's face was terrible, and a flicker of unease finally crossed his eyes.

But when he spoke, he still chose to blame Mom.

"What happened back then, your mom just couldn't let go. She refused to accept reality and insisted on blowing things up. If she hadn't kept pestering us, we all could have lived in peace."

I stared at him, feeling a surge of anger flare in my chest.

"Live in peace?"

"Do you know why my ear was damaged?"

Richard froze.

This was the second time today he truly noticed the hearing aid behind my ear.

Yesterday, when we met, he was too busy complaining about my shabby clothes to even notice anything new on my ear.

I raised my hand and tucked my hair behind my ear, letting him see more clearly.

"The day you had us thrown out, I fell down the steps, and that's how my ear was damaged."

"Of course, you don't remember. That day, you were busy getting married, busy comforting Vivian. You didn't have time to care if I'd fallen and gotten hurt."

Richard's lips moved, as if he wanted to argue.

I didn't give him a chance, continuing.

"All these years, my mom and I did try to find you. We called, we messaged, we begged, and we waited. But every time, the call was hung up, or Vivian would pick up and tell us you were busy, to be 'sensible' about it."

"Later, my mom's health worsened, and she was diagnosed with a condition requiring long-term treatment."

"You didn't even bother to properly look at her medical records, assuming it was just another one of my mom's acts."

"Finally, you threw a bank card at me, saying there was money in it, and told me to disappear."

As I spoke, my hand was numb from clenching.

That day, I really believed it.

I thought, no matter how cruel a person was, they wouldn't joke about a human life.

I ran back to the hospital with that card, not even noticing one of my shoes had fallen off, my mind filled with the thought that Mom was saved.

But at the billing office, the staff swiped the card three times, then looked up at me.

"There's no money in it."

At that moment, standing in the hospital lobby, my whole body went numb.

I didn't know whom to blame.

The bank, myself, or the father who never once looked back?

I looked at Richard, my voice growing colder.

"You call that 'living in peace'?"

"Was there ever a single moment when you genuinely wanted my mom and me to survive?"

The room was eerily silent.

Richard looked at me, the expression on his face finally changing.

But after a long silence, his first words were still, "I would never give you an empty card."

I almost laughed.

Even now, his first instinct was to defend himself.

"So you think my mom and I conspired to deceive you?"

"There must be another reason for this," he said.

"Yes, another reason," I stared at him. "But whatever that reason is, the only one who died was my mom."

Richard's face changed instantly.

"What did you say?"

I looked at him and said,

"My mom died."