Captive

It was a very hot day, as if the sun was shining brighter than usual. The sky looked so clear, not a single cloud could be seen above. Little Venus, who is five years old, is sitting on the porch of her house, playing with a pillow doll that has lost one eye, while her stepmom, Sella, sat on a ledge, fiddling with her smartphone while occasionally smiling to herself.

Venus stood up, carrying her doll that was almost dull by her side, then walked over to Sella. “Ma,” she called softly, her hand tugging at one end of Sella's shirt.

The girl's stepmom turned and looked down briefly, looking at her with disapproval, as if the little girl's presence bothered her very much. The look in her eyes was clearly unfriendly, but little Venus seemed used to it.

“What?” Sella said flatly.

Little Venus pouted her lips, then lifted her pillow doll that hung limply in her hand. “I want a new doll, it's okay even if it's smaller than this one.”

“Tch,” Sella clicked her tongue, still annoyed by it. “Just