Chapter 2

Five years later, Chloe had grown into a chubby, adorable little girl.

Like any mother, I sent her to kindergarten.

At first, she was thrilled. She would wake up early every morning and beg me to tie her hair into cute pigtails.

But later on, whenever school was mentioned, her face would fall, and she’d look like she was about to cry.

I knew immediately that someone was picking on her.

"Sweetheart, tell Mom. Who’s bothering you? I'll go set them straight."

The moment I asked, tears poured down her cheeks.

"Mom... they said I’m a bastard child. I argued with them."

"But they said, 'We all have dads, but you don't. You’re just a nameless stray.'"

My heart shattered. I pulled her small body tightly into my arms.

What did little kids know? They were only repeating the nasty things their parents said at home.

The neighbors knew I was a single woman who suddenly brought home a baby. The gossip was relentless.

My girl was growing up. She would understand more and more. I couldn’t let her be poisoned by these cruel rumors.

After sleepless nights, I decided we had to move.

I was a single woman with a child. Moving all our junk by myself left me drenched in sweat.

Little Chloe took her tiny cartoon handkerchief, stood on her tiptoes, and carefully wiped the sweat from my forehead.

"Mom, when I grow up, I’ll help you. You won’t have to work so hard anymore."

With just those words, all the exhaustion vanished from my body.

Even now, as a ghost, I remembered the warmth of that moment. It made my cold, dead corpse feel a little warmer.

Time flew. In a flash, Chloe was in high school.

But the teenage Chloe was different. Like many teenage girls, she became deeply insecure and materialistic.

She started to feel ashamed of me. She forbade me from picking her up from school.

Looking at my greasy, battered old food truck, I sighed quietly.

I didn't blame her. It was my fault for being useless.

A mother like me could only bring her shame.

Chloe changed rapidly. Her grades plummeted, and she became obsessed with her looks.

She washed her hair every day, refused to wear her school uniform, and wore short skirts.

She even started putting on heavy makeup on her way to school.

Unease filled my chest, so I secretly followed her one afternoon.

She didn't go to school. Instead, she walked into a shady pool hall with a guy who looked like a local gang member.

I was anxious and angry, but I was terrified of hurting her pride if I burst in.

So, I waited outside in the cold for hours. Finally, the punk walked out, his hand wrapped tightly around Chloe's waist.

That hand burned my eyes.

I planned to go home and have a gentle talk with her. But the punk dragged Chloe toward the entrance of a cheap, hourly motel.

Chloe was resisting, trying to pull away, but he kept dragging her inside.

I couldn't take it anymore. I rushed forward, swinging my heavy, worn-out purse, hitting the punk over and over again.

I tried to pull my terrified daughter into my arms, but she violently slapped my hand away.

"You're disgusting! Keep your filthy hands off me!"

I looked down at my cracked, dirt-stained hands. They were dirty.

"Why are you stalking me? Are you crazy, Heather? Can you give me some privacy?!"

"That’s my boyfriend! His family is rich, and he’s good to me! You ruined everything!"

So, Chloe was only with him because of money.

"Chloe, Mom has money. You just focus on studying. I can support you."

Before I could finish, she cut me off impatiently.

"Oh, shut up! How much can you possibly make?"

"You spend all day frying cheap food, flirting with dirty construction workers just to make a buck. I don’t want your filthy money. It's gross!"

Watching her run away, my heart felt like it was being fried in hot oil.

My baby girl... is that really how you saw me?