Chapter 2

"Stop right there!"

The instant she caught my inner voice, my mother lunged forward.

She wrenched me back out of Valerie's arms with everything she had.

Valerie wouldn't let go, and in the struggle my mother's nail raked across her brow bone.

"Aah!"

"Zara, have you lost your mind?"

Valerie clapped a hand over her eye, blood seeping out between her fingers.

Some small part of my mother felt a pang.

But she didn't waver.

"I already told you. No one touches my child!"

"If she needs a bath, I'll take her myself!"

My father looked at my mother, helpless.

"Zar, you're really not doing well. Let me get you a therapist, okay?"

My mother took a step back, holding me.

"I don't need one!"

"I'm fine!"

"Do you believe her, or do you believe me?"

My father glanced at Valerie, then back at my mother.

He reached out and drew her into his arms.

Softly, gently, he said:

"You're my wife. Of course I believe you. But you just gave birth, and I'm afraid this really is postpartum depression. After all, you used to trust Valerie more than anyone..."

My mother froze.

It was true.

Half the reason my father trusted Valerie was because he loved my mother, and that love spilled over onto her.

Before all this, my mother had treated Valerie like a real sister, and wouldn't let anyone say a bad word about her.

Valerie stepped forward and offered graciously:

"It's all right, Zara. I know your emotions are all over the place during confinement."

"I don't blame you!"

My mother pressed her lips together and said nothing.

Ten o'clock that night.

Valerie brought my mother a bowl of chicken soup.

"Zara, the confinement nurse made this. She added fish maw. It's good for your recovery!"

My mother took the bowl and was just lifting it to her lips.

I cried out at once:

"Mommy, don't drink it. There are sleeping pills in the soup. If you drink it you'll go out cold."

"Then she'll wait for you to fall asleep and swap me out!"

My mother's hand trembled, and she stopped, the bowl halfway there.

"Why aren't you drinking? It won't taste good once it's cold!"

Valerie pressed.

My mother's eyes locked hard on her face.

"You take a sip first. Let me see."

Valerie's face flickered with panic. "I... I'm not the one who just had a baby. I don't need the extra nutrition!"

"You don't have to be a new mother to drink chicken soup with fish maw!"

"Or did you put something in it?"

Valerie startled and backed away in a fluster.

But my mother seized her wrist.

"What are you so nervous about?"

Valerie came completely undone.

"Zara, the way you are right now, it's honestly terrifying."

"I'm your best friend. How could I ever put something in your food?"

"If you ask me, your postpartum depression is getting worse and worse. You're even showing signs of persecution paranoia. I... I'm not talking to you anymore..."

With that, she shook off my mother's hand and turned to leave.

But she knocked the bowl of soup out of my mother's hand by accident.

A whole bowl of chicken soup spilled across the back of Valerie's hand.

"Aah!"

The back of her hand swelled red at once.

Hearing the noise, my father came in from the outer room, just in time to see it.

Valerie immediately pointed at my mother, eyes red, asking in an injured voice:

"Zara, I brought you chicken soup out of the goodness of my heart, so why would you throw it at me?"

As she spoke, she made a point of showing off the red, swollen skin on the back of her hand.

My father's gaze flickered, then landed sharp on my mother.

I shouted at once:

"Mommy, you can't just sit there and take it. You have to learn to fight back!"

"The way to beat a two-faced fake is to look even more wronged than she does!"