Chapter 4

After the call ended.

My chest was pulled tight.

I staggered to my feet, ready to rush out the door.

But standing outside was a visitor I never expected.

It was my own daughter.

My fingers curled in.

My lips had barely moved when she closed in first.

She flung a stack of photos hard into my face.

The corners scattered past the side of my face, and a stinging heat climbed my cheek at once.

But when I saw what was on the photos,

my heart dropped.

They were the news images of Sophie being molested by her stepfather as a child.

"The mother wrecks other people's families, and the child seduces her own stepfather."

"Like mother, like daughter. A born whore."

My body froze where I stood, and every trace of color drained from my face.

I stared blankly at the daughter in front of me and for a moment forgot to breathe.

Hannah shoved me aside and walked into the house as if she owned it.

She patted the couch, undisguised disgust churning across her face.

She propped her phone in a stand on the table and waved at me impatiently.

Seeing me rooted in place, she finally spoke again.

"Still not going to cooperate? Your daughter's gone missing, hasn't she?"

Every drop of blood in me froze, and I opened my mouth.

She answered before I could.

"That's right. Your daughter's with me now."

"If you want to find her, you look into the camera, admit you broke up my parents' marriage, and apologize to my mother in public. Then I'll tell you where she is."

My pupils shrank, and my lips worked open and shut, again and again.

The next second, my eyes fell on the protective charm at her neck, and I said hoarsely,

"I can agree to that. But you have to agree to one thing too."

"Give me back that charm around your neck."

Hannah paused for a moment, as if puzzled by what I'd asked for.

But she didn't dwell on it. She took the protective charm off readily and threw it down in front of me.

"Ignorant old woman. Consider it a gift."

With a sharp crack, the charm hit the floor hard and shattered to pieces.

I looked at the broken jade scattered across the floor, and old wounds churned up inside me.

Back then Jacqueline botched the surgery and left me with a chronic condition.

My newborn daughter developed a scalp hematoma too.

The moment my confinement month ended, I dragged my weak body up a thousand stone steps,

and prayed for this protective jade charm for her.

I closed my eyes,

and pressed down every surge of grief.

When I lifted them again,

nothing was left on my face but a flat numbness.

Line by line, I followed Hannah's instructions.

Word by word, I gave my false confession, the one that belonged to me.

She checked the video over and over, and once she was sure it was fine, she finally nodded, satisfied.

I stood and looked at her calmly.

"Where is my daughter?"

Hannah looked into my unrippled eyes,

and for no reason a thread of unease she couldn't name crept up in her.

But she quickly pushed the odd feeling down,

and carelessly tossed the scrap of paper with the address at my feet.

She swung the door open and left. "Mom, when I get home I've got a surprise for you!" Her voice echoed through the old stairwell.

I bent silently and picked up the note, without so much as a flicker left inside me.

I went to the bed, lifted the boards, and took out a wooden box hidden inside.

I dialed the number left in the notebook.

"Is this a old friend of Greta Parsons? There's something I need to ask of you."

After I hung up, I followed the address and found Sophie.

She lay unconscious on the floor, her face streaked with tears.

My heart clenched over and over as I carefully lifted her into my arms.

We reached the place I'd arranged with the person on the phone, boarded a helicopter, and left without looking back.

On the other side, the recording of me bowing my head and confessing spread across the whole internet.

Richard's eyes were fixed on the screen, and the cold pressure around him dropped all at once.