Chapter 2

I forced myself to stay calm and turned to my daughter, who was sitting on the couch watching TV. "Mia, tell Mommy secretly---have you been playing any photo games with Daddy lately?"

Mia pouted, huffing indignantly. "Daddy's been too busy playing on his phone. He hasn't played with me in forever!"

I asked, puzzled, "Doesn't Daddy take you swimming every time? Don't you two swim together?"

"No, Daddy says he doesn't know how to swim. He always has the instructor teach me. He even found me a gentle female teacher!"

Hearing this, I let out a sigh of relief. It must have been a voice modulator making the voices sound similar.

Just as I was about to ask Mia more questions, my phone buzzed with a private message from my colleague.

"Madison, check out the video in the group chat!"

I quickly opened the group chat. The colleague who'd been venting had posted the videos there.

Looking at the thumbnail showing the little girl's dress, my heart skipped a beat.

Mia had the exact same dress.

I took a deep breath and clicked on the video.

The footage showed a little girl using the bathroom. From the environment, it appeared to be a public restroom.

But from the filming angle, it clearly wasn't a hidden camera shot---it was filmed from directly in front of the little girl.

The video was blurry and shaky, but it only captured the little girl using the toilet, nothing else.

Besides, I bought Mia's clothes from mainstream brands---the chances of someone else having the same outfit were high.

I was about to close it when I suddenly noticed a red butterfly birthmark on the back of the little girl's hand as she lifted her dress.

My breath caught, and my phone nearly slipped from my hands. This birthmark was identical to the one on Mia's hand.

A chill shot up from the soles of my feet to the top of my head. My breathing became labored.

I suddenly remembered Derek's recent odd behavior. He used to be completely against enrolling Mia in any extracurricular activities.

He said he just wanted her to enjoy a happy childhood without exhausting her.

But a month ago, he suddenly enrolled her in swimming lessons.

I'd asked him why at the time, and he'd only said a friend had just opened a swimming center with a discount, and he was doing the friend a favor.

Thinking back to when Mia first excitedly told me about the swimming center's blue and white bathroom decorated with jellyfish, I suddenly felt restless.

With trembling hands, I opened my messaging app and messaged Derek. Taking a deep breath, I tried to sound casual: "Derek, where is your friend's swimming center? My colleague's son wants to learn swimming, so she asked me to find out."

He replied almost instantly: "I'll send you the location. Mention my name for a discount!"

"Thanks!" I immediately took Mia and hailed a cab to the swimming center.

Seeing the lively scene inside, I exhaled in relief.

But as soon as I entered, something felt off. Most of the people here were fathers with their daughters---very few other women.

As I stood there in a daze, a man actually patted Mia on the bottom.

"Mia, you're late! That means you'll have to be punished!"