Chapter 4

I stood at the camp entrance, watching her disappear down the hallway as the cold wind blew into my collar.

Before entering the camp, my daughter had started a channel on a short video platform with the homepage titled "Weight Loss Journey – Reshaping Life."

She posted a pinned video, dressed in black athletic wear with her ponytail held high, showing a fist to the camera. "Starting today, I'll post a video daily. My goal is to slim down to 120 pounds. I won't give up until I achieve my goal!"

At the end of the video, she added, "This time, I'll take matters into my own hands. No one can stop me."

The comments section was filled with fans praising her determination.

She took a screenshot and posted it in the family group chat, captioning it, "See? Losing weight is easy. I can do it whenever I want."

My mother-in-law sent a voice message with the sound of food frying in the background. "Good job, Lara! You have my full support! When you come back, I'll make delicious food for you."

I stared at that message, opened my mouth, but ultimately said nothing.

In the first few days of the camp, Lara could still stick to her diet. She posted pictures of various diet meals – boiled chicken breast, broccoli, brown rice – with captions that exuded vitality.

But on the seventh day, she fainted twice in a row. The camp coach called to say her blood sugar level was fluctuating too much and needed monitoring.

I drove there overnight.

Lara lay on the infirmary bed, her face pale, lips chapped. When she saw me walk in, she turned her back on me and faced the wall.

The nurse said she had been caught hiding snacks but refused to admit it.

"I didn't eat anything," she mumbled from beneath the blankets.

The nurse placed an opened bag of potato chips on the bedside table, still with fingerprints on it. My daughter said nothing more.

She had also started ordering takeout. The camp's fence was low, and delivery personnel could slide the food through the gaps. She would eat crouching behind the electrical box in the fire escape at night.

At first, it was just a light bowl of soup. In the video, she said, "Eating this occasionally is fine."

Then came fried chicken, pasta, and barbecued food. The quantity kept increasing too.

She even changed her account name from "Weight Loss Journey" to "Lara's Daily Life," and changed the profile picture to one of herself holding a fried drumstick.

In a video, she took big bites of the drumstick, grease dripping from her mouth. She wiped it with the back of her hand with a smile. "Eat as much as you want, drink as much as you want. Don't take life so seriously. We only have about 80 years to live, so enjoy your food!"

Comments started rolling in: "I thought you're a weight loss influencer."

Lara gnawed on the drumstick and replied, "I can't change my mind? I'm just being real. Viewers love people who keep it real."

Three months later, not only did my daughter fail to lose weight, she gained another thirty pounds.

The coach called, expressing frustration: "I can't help her anymore. She hoarded an entire box of snacks in the dorm. We confiscated them three times, but she just bought new ones."

I drove to pick Lara up. She walked out of the camp with the zipper of her athletic outfit unable to close, so she wore it open, with a tight T-shirt underneath.

The flesh on her face squished her eyes into two tiny slits.

She pushed her suitcase to my feet and climbed into the back seat, saying, "This camp is inhumane. If I had followed their rules, I would have starved to death in there."

Back home, my mother-in-law had prepared a feast of meat for Lara. She pulled my daughter to the table and shoved utensils into her hands. "Lara has suffered greatly in the camp. Eat more to make up for it. I think that camp is just a scam. They were just starving my granddaughter."

My daughter picked up a piece of barbeque meat and chewed it with her cheeks puffed out. She smiled at me and mumbled, "Aren't I clever? If I hadn't ordered takeout, I would have starved to death."

My mother-in-law stroked her head. "I don't mind you being chubby. I'll never send you to any weight loss camp. I'll make you delicious food."

My husband sat across, reading a newspaper. He didn't even lift his head and just grunted, "Mmh."