Chapter 2

I didn't leave.

I searched for the earliest flight home, desperate to escape this country where I'd come all this way just to humiliate myself.

But there were no suitable flights, which meant I'd have to stay here another day.

I found a corner and curled into a tight ball.

When I was little, whenever other kids called me a motherless child, I'd curl up in a corner just like this, as if making myself small enough could keep me from hearing their words or feeling their fists.

Another hour passed.

Then a woman suddenly emerged from the exit.

I glanced at her, looked away, then turned back for another look.

She wore an expensive-looking coat and carried a handbag whose brand I couldn't identify. Her hair fell in big, carefully styled curls, and she had the polished air of a high-powered executive.

A teenage girl walked beside her, clinging to her arm and whining sweetly, "Mom, I'm hungry."

The woman smiled and stroked her head. "I've booked us a Michelin-starred restaurant for your birthday. It's the one you've wanted to try since last year."

The two walked past me, leaning against each other. No one would ever notice me sitting in that corner.

But I recognized her.

When she smiled, her face looked exactly as Grandma had described it. Her eyes curved into crescents, and there was a small beauty mark at the corner of her mouth.

I scrambled to my feet and hurried after them.

My mom led Sofia to a black Porsche, and soon they disappeared into the stream of traffic.

I waved frantically, wanting to shout my mom's name. Then I remembered what she'd said, and I froze.

She didn't want me disturbing her life.

I saw the moment my mom had opened the car door. It was filled with surprises. There were flowers, gifts, and a cake box with a bow.

Sofia had jumped up excitedly, thrown herself into my mom's arms, and kissed her several times.

I lowered my head and slowly unwrapped the cookies in my hand, eating every last bite.

My mom was someone who ate at Michelin-starred restaurants now. She probably wouldn't even glance at something like cookies, just as she wouldn't look at me.

I threw the leftover cookies into the trash.

My phone vibrated.

Mom: [Transferred $50,000. Sue, I'm sorry. This money is enough to cover all four years of your college tuition. Don't come looking for me again.]

I stared at the confirmation screen for a long time.

In my head, I kept calculating the balance in my bank account.

I'd placed third in the province on my college entrance exams, and my school had awarded me a scholarship. After paying tuition, I'd used the remaining money to cover living expenses for Grandma and myself each month.

Even that wasn't enough. As soon as I started college, I actively sought out all kinds of part-time jobs, even tutoring other students.

My savings grew little by little. I eventually had enough left over to buy my mom a present, too.

I'd come here bursting with excitement, only to be sent away with $50,000.

My heart felt heavy and bitter, as though I'd finally gotten the answer to why my mom hadn't come back for sixteen years, and yet, some part of me still couldn't accept it.

I spent the entire night sitting in the airport.

A green-eyed janitor asked me why I wasn't going home.

I struggled to understand, then stumbled over my words for a long time before managing a single reply: "Waiting."

I was waiting for someone who would never come.

When morning broke, I booked my return flight. Before boarding, I took one last look at the foreign sky.

Silently, I made a decision. Just as she'd wanted, I would never come looking for her again. I would make sure she remembered forever what kind of daughter she'd thrown away.

One day, that daughter would rise to heights she could never reach.