Chapter 4

The livestream went live right on schedule.

Within mere minutes, the viewer count in the corner surged past the one-million mark.

Even with a paid paywall, millions tuned in.

My death had proven to be her most lucrative content yet.

Mom sat under the studio ring lights, her eyes suitably red-rimmed.

Her voice was raspy, laced with carefully timed hitches of breath.

"Thank you all for being here with me tonight."

"Losing Chloe shattered my world… These past few days, my mind has been flooded with memories of her."

She buried her face in her hands, her shoulders trembling slightly as if fighting back an unbearable tide of sorrow.

[Stay strong, Evelyn, we're all here for you.]

[Sending you the biggest virtual hug.]

[Chloe is watching from heaven, she'd want you to be happy.]

I watched her masterclass in manipulation without emotion.

Having built up the mood, she looked up, offering the camera a fragile, bittersweet smile.

"Let's look back together at the beautiful, warm moments Chloe and I shared."

Talking softly, she navigated her desktop with practiced ease.

Inside the pink drive, the folders were neatly organized:

*Family Vacations*, *Birthday Parties*, *Reading Together*, *Daily Vlogs*.

She clicked into *Reading Together*.

She dragged a file titled *Sweet Reading Time with Mommy.mp4* into her broadcasting software's media player.

The corner of her mouth twitched into a subtle smirk; she remembered this clip fondly.

It had been painstakingly directed, edited, and filtered to perfection.

In the original video, I sat obediently in her lap while she read me a fairy tale in a warm, golden-lit room—a snapshot of domestic bliss.

That single clip had netted her millions of likes on TikTok.

"Let's take a look at how sweet Chloe was back then…"

She hit play.

What appeared on screen, however, was definitely not the edited fairy tale.

Instead, raw footage captured by the hidden pinhole camera filled the display!

The video showed me sitting at my small desk, holding that very same storybook.

"…The little fawn… ran… ran into the… w-wood…"

I stumbled over a word.

Off-camera, Mom's face instantly twisted with rage.

"You idiot! Forest! It's *forest*! How can you mess up such a basic word? What did I do to give birth to such a brainless pig!"

Her shrill, venomous screech blasted clearly through the professional microphone, echoing into every viewer's headphones.

In the next second, she snatched the hardcover book and slammed it violently across my face!

*Smack!*

The hard edge struck my forehead.

I cowered instantly, tears pooling in my eyes, terrified to make a sound.

"Are you going to read it properly or not? If you can't do it, get the hell out! Don't sit there ruining my mood!"

Above the video, bold, blood-red subtitles slowly materialized:

*Mom, you told me to get lost that day. Do you remember?*

In the broadcast chat, the scrolling comments came to a dead stop.

Millions of viewers were struck completely dumb by what they were witnessing.

Mom's eyes bulged like saucers as she stared at the screen in pure horror.