Chapter 2

Just as dawn broke, Grandma burst into the rundown shack and yanked Mom up.

“You lazy, good-for-nothing hag! I paid so much for you, and you can’t even birth a son, and you’re useless around the house. What a jinx you are.”

Her complaints made Mom tremble slightly.

She wasn’t unable to conceive; she simply couldn’t anymore.

I heard Dad had beaten Mom so savagely, he’d ruined her insides.

Everyone was furious that day, except Mom. She was smiling, so genuinely happy.

She’d said, “Finally, I don’t have to bear little beasts for these animals.”

But ever since that day, she’d gone from being Dad’s plaything to Grandma’s workhorse.

Just then, Dad, who hadn't returned all night, stumbled back.

Drunk, he lurched towards Mom, and before she could react, he slapped her hard across the face.

“You worthless bitch! I paid for you, you’re *my* property, and you dare glare at me?”

“You bring nothing but bad luck! It’s definitely because of you I lost all my money gambling. I’m going to kill you!”

His fists and feet rained down on Mom.

Mom’s pained cries were hoarse, like Grandpa sawing wood, cutting into my heart.

I couldn’t help but rush over, sobbing, “Dad, please, stop hitting Mom!”

The words had barely left my lips before Dad kicked me mercilessly, sending me flying.

“Hmph, two little parasites. Someday I’m going to beat both of you to death.”

He spat on the ground, burped, and staggered away.

Grandma just rolled her eyes and shuffled off. “Honestly, he doesn't know his own strength. Nobody's going to work today.”

I ignored the sharp pain in my stomach and crawled over to Mom.

Her eyes were closed; Dad had knocked her unconscious again.

I was so sad, and utterly helpless.

I couldn’t get any medicine.

They never gave Mom proper care, not unless she was on the verge of dying.

In my despair, a glint of light caught my eye.

I focused, seeing a small mirror lying on the ground.

What was astonishing was that the mirror didn’t reflect me, but a girl.

And she looked incredibly like Mom.

“Little one! Can you hear me?! I’ve been kidnapped, please, can you call the police for me?”

“My name is Annabelle Anderson, and I live at…”

I froze, picked up the mirror, and hesitantly asked, “Sister, what year is it where you are?”

“It’s 2005.”

My eyes widened. “It’s 2020 here.”

The other side fell silent too.

My deepest suspicion was confirmed: I was talking to my mom in the past.

My past mom was so beautiful, no wrinkles, no scars on her face.

She was the prettiest girl I’d ever seen.

No wonder Mom wanted to escape.

Before she came here, she had another home, and her family there had cared for her so well.

She had her own name, Annabelle Anderson.

Unlike here, where I called her Mom.

Dad called her "Hey!" and "Bitch," Grandma called her "Hussy," Grandpa called her "Slut." No one knew her real name.

Taking a deep breath, I said to the mirror, “Mom…”

I stopped myself. I couldn't let her know I was her daughter.

This time, I absolutely couldn't be her obstacle.

Thinking quickly, I corrected myself, “I’m sorry, sister. I can’t find a way to call the police right now.”

Disappointment flickered in her eyes.

I added, “But I’ve heard about you. You’re the woman bought by the Miller family from the edge of town.”

“I can help you. Help you escape.”