Chapter 2

The brown-haired girl wore a mock expression of regret.

"Too bad we don't have the ‘props' for that right now. Guess we'll save it for the next stream."

The chat lit up with another suggestion:

"How about golf balls? Three of them! I can see a golf set in the corner of the room!"

The brown-haired girl turned to look, clapping her hands in delight. "Brilliant!"

My sister's hoarse voice cried out, begging for mercy, but her pleas only fueled their excitement.

They pinned her down like a fish flopping on a cutting board, completely at their mercy.

The anguished screams echoed through the phone's speaker. My mother couldn't bear to watch anymore, but I kept my eyes glued to the screen, memorizing every face.

One of the bullies, a chubby girl, pulled a frozen popsicle from the fridge, a nasty smirk playing on her lips.

"Let me help cool her down," she sneered. "Maybe it'll stop her from acting so desperate."

The next second, my sister's head snapped back, her entire body convulsing in pain. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head before she passed out, leaving the bloody golf ball to roll onto the floor.

The brown-haired girl bent down, picked up the bloodstained ball, and grabbed my sister's swollen face, squeezing it viciously.

"Weren't you supposed to be kind? Weren't you supposed to be pretty? Even that guy, Sean, liked you."

"Don't think I don't see through your act. Look at you—you're enjoying this, aren't you?"

She tried to shove the bloody ball into my sister's mouth, but even unconscious, my sister's jaw stayed clenched tight.

The bullies pried her mouth open, pulling at her lips like cracking open an egg, until her teeth shattered. Blood and shards of enamel spilled from her mouth, choking her.

The brown-haired girl recoiled in disgust, slapping my sister's face. "Gross!" she exclaimed.

Then they all started laughing again, as if this were the funniest thing they'd ever seen.

I clenched my fists so tight my nails dug into my palms. The fury I'd been holding back began to boil over, clouding my vision.

"Your sister lost several teeth," my mother sobbed. "Her lower body was torn apart. They…"

Tears spilled from her eyes as she choked on her words.

"They stapled her…" Her voice broke. "They stapled her together with a stapler. The doctors said she'd need at least five reconstructive surgeries just to restore basic function."

"And that's not all. They found thumbtacks in her stomach. And… and pieces of a cat."

"Your sister loved cats more than anything."

My mom collapsed to the floor, burying her face in her hands.

"What did I do to deserve this?" she wailed.

"Did you report it to the police?" I asked coldly, my voice cutting through the room like a knife.

My mother's sobs only grew louder.

"We wanted to," she cried. "But they threatened us. They said they had worse videos. If we went to the police, they'd make it so your sister could never show her face again."