Chapter 3

I stared at myself in the mirror, clad in the dress, and felt dazed for a long moment.

I had once been a girl who loved beauty, who loved wearing pretty dresses. But ever since I had to earn money to ransom Joe, I had never worn one again.

Years of relentless labor had roughened my skin, leaving it dark and coarse. This dress felt stolen—my tanned, worn skin could never do it justice. I shook my head with a bitter laugh, about to change back into my work clothes.

But then Joe suddenly burst in, grabbed my hand, and pulled me along.

He brought me to the nursery my son had attended at age three. He glanced at his watch, impatience flickering in his eyes.

"So late… why hasn't he come out yet? I'll have to teach him a lesson someday for being so slow."

I turned toward the door.

"This nursery was too expensive. He transferred schools at four."

A shadow of guilt crossed his face. He held my hand tightly.

"Sandra, you've suffered all these years. Now that I'm back, I'll give you and our son a better life. Where is he now? Let's go get him."

I drew a deep breath and pressed the tears down.

"He's too far away… we can't bring him back."

He didn't question me, merely nodded with understanding.

"Good. Without that brat around, we can enjoy some time for ourselves. We'll make it up to him later."

He led me to a high-end restaurant. Before entering, he even explained that he had secretly saved some money over the years to afford this. I forced a stiff smile. There was no need for him to plan and scheme just to fool me.

We had barely sat down when someone I hadn't seen in years appeared in my line of sight: Sofia.

"Sandra? What a coincidence!"

She slid into the seat beside me with an ease that made it clear she felt no boundaries. Across from us, Joe stiffened, awkwardly greeting her.

"Hello, Sofia."

"Joe, go to the front and order us some drinks. We haven't seen each other in years; we have so many secrets to share."

Her voice was soft, almost coquettish, the tone one reserved for a lover.

Joe cleared his throat and rose, leaving her side. Sofia's gentle gaze vanished, replaced by full-on provocation.

"Years apart, and look at you… yellow-faced and haggard? Unlike me, widowed, yes, but I found a husband who loves me even more."

I clenched my fists in silence.

She appraised me from head to toe, her eyes dripping with contempt.

"This dress looks familiar… isn't it the one my husband and I… got messy together and tossed out? Don't tell me you're so poor you'd wear my discarded clothes?"

My face betrayed no emotion, but inside, a storm of bitterness and sorrow raged. Was I truly so cheap in Joe's eyes that even the dress he gave me had belonged to her?

Suddenly, Sofia leaned close, her breath whispering against my ear, "Sandra, everything you once had… now belongs to me. You'll never be able to beat me."

I didn't resist. I knew she was right—I had always been on the losing side.

But in the next second, her nails dug viciously into my thigh. I struggled to push her away, but she pressed harder.

"I want you to remember… what doesn't belong to you will never belong to you!"

Sofia collapsed to the floor with a dark, victorious smile. At the same time, a burning slap landed across my face—Joe had rushed over in a blur.

Even a small scratch on her arm was enough to make Joe lose all sense. Sofia nestled against him, feigning hurt.

"I only complimented you for being thoughtful… and then… Sandra misunderstood me."

Joe spun toward me, his voice cutting, furious.

"Sandra! After all these years, you're still so childish! Sofia's life has been hard enough, and yet you always pick on her! Five years apart, and you've learned nothing!"

At that moment, it felt as if the air itself had frozen. Even when Joe's older brother was alive, he had always favored Sofia.