Chapter 4

My mom scolded me so harshly that I felt sick.

I lay curled up on the floor in agony.

Watching my vomit, she berated me, saying I was as messy as a pigsty.

She dragged my dad and Laurie outside for some fresh air, ordering me to clean up the mess quickly!

Over half an hour later, they returned.

By then, I had already cleaned the floor and was huddled over my phone, reading a message from Director Huang.

My mom walked in with a box of milk in her hand.

I overheard her telling my dad, "Laurie is allergic to milk, so we'll give it to someone else tomorrow."

So, they had received a box of milk while they were out.

My dad waved his hand dismissively, "This isn't suitable for gifting. Let Kiera have it."

My mom smirked and dumped the milk beside me.

"Look at you, constantly riding on your sister's coattails! Laurie treats you so well, and yet you won't even give her a single dress!"

I looked up, my throat still scratchy and dry from vomiting.

"Mom, you sure hold a grudge. How many years has it been, and you still remember?"

Oh, how could I forget? My mom has a grudge book.

Even if I came home two minutes late from school, it was noted, let alone the issue with the dress.

During those years living at my uncle's house, every time I came back to the city for holidays, my aunt would switch our clothes-giving me the new ones and Laurie the old.

It made my mom feel sorry for Laurie, so she'd always take her shopping for new clothes.

One year, during the New Year, one of my dad's colleagues returned from Hong Kong and gifted me a special occasion dress.

It was beautiful and fit me perfectly.

I was so excited I couldn't sleep, just waiting to wear it the next day to greet the neighbors.

But when I got up, the dress was gone, along with Laurie.

From my mom's room came the sound of a sewing machine.

My heartbeat was faster than the sewing machine's rhythm as I rushed into her room, crying.

I found my mom had already cut the hem short and was finishing the edges, while Laurie stood expectantly by her side.

"Mom, don't cut my dress!"

I lunged forward, putting my hand right under the sewing machine's needle.

It pierced through my palm, blood oozing out, but I held on, refusing to let go.

My mom screamed a few times and freed my hand.

She didn't rush me to the hospital but kicked me twice.

"Are you crazy? Guarding your belongings fiercely! Your aunt treats you so well, gives you all the good clothes, and your sister just likes this dress. What's the harm in giving it to her?"

Mom, you don't understand. This was my first and only new dress!

That day, I couldn't hold back my grievances and loudly told my mom that my aunt mistreated me, that I was neither well-fed nor warmly dressed, and that everything good was just an illusion!

And what did my mom say?

"Kiera, you really disappoint me! Just because of a dress, you slander your uncle's family? Your uncle and aunt are known for their simple and honest nature. How could they possibly mistreat you?"

Yes, they were indeed known for their simple and honest nature. So honest they were spineless.

But everyone needs an outlet for their frustrations.

My uncle and aunt were no different.

They were always taken advantage of and bullied by others, so they came home to take out their frustrations on me, to take advantage of me!

Mom, can't you really see that?