CHAPTER 3

I was still on the same bed from last night. Don’t tell me I slept till 1 p.m. I never sleep like this. What really happened after I passed out?

Did he… did he get between my legs?

I looked down at my thighs. My clothes were intact. My underwear too. I stood up, then jumped slightly, hoping I’d feel some kind of pain—something. I had seen rape scenes on TV. The girl would lie there trembling, body bruised and sore. Tears streamed down her face as she stared blankly, feeling broken and numb. Pain throbbed through her lower body, but the emotional shock hit harder,scared, ashamed, and lost, as if something precious had been stolen.

But nothing like that was happening to me. I felt okay.

Maybe I misinterpreted him. Maybe he’s not dangerous.

After all the chaos of last night… I guess nothing happened to me.

I was still deep in thought when I saw a note on the shelf behind the bed. I picked it up and opened it.

Hi, by the time you’re reading this, I’m sure you’re awake. You good, right?

I didn’t mean what I said yesterday about tasting you. Just teasing.

I didn’t touch you, and those guys—don’t worry, they’ve been taken care of.

I left some money for you. Figured you might need it.

Be more careful about who you walk with.

—Young Master

---

Young Master? Is that his name? Is there actually someone named Young Master?

I picked up the money. I’d need it to get a cab and buy a new phone. The one I had was taken by those two men. Thankfully, the money he left was enough.

I left the room, hailed a taxi, bought a new phone, and even bought a new dress since the one I wore was stained and torn at one side.

When I got home, I saw my mom sitting on a chair, legs crossed. I greeted her quickly and headed toward my room. I wasn’t ready for explanations.

"Hey! Where have you been? I’ve been calling your number, why didn’t you pick up? Why are you always stressing me, Lily? I’m not the only mother in the world, and other people’s children don’t give them half the headache you do!" she shouted.

"Mom, I don’t understand. I stress you? You’re the one who doesn’t care about me! You’re complaining I didn’t pick your call, but I called you yesterday, crying for help. I was begging for your help while two men were ready to tear me apart and get between my legs! But you didn’t care. You were busy screwing one guy! You don’t care, Mom! You don’t even ask about my life, how I’m doing… you hardly have my time!"

"Because I’m busy providing for you, Lily!"

"Busy? But not too busy to carry different men? You think I don’t see everything you do?"

"So what? And so what, Lily? Is it a crime to be a mother? So because I have a child now, I should stop living my life? I should stop being who I am? If you weren’t so stubborn, none of this would be happening. If I had aborted you like I aborted the others, maybe life wouldn’t be this hell for me! Why can’t you be like other children? I got pregnant before and aborted easily, but you—you refused to go and now you’re just a burden I carry!"

Her words hit me like sharp iron, shattering my heart into pieces. I lost control. I lost all sense. This pain—this was the worst I had ever felt. Imagine your own mother calling you a regret.

I ran into my room and slammed the door shut. I sat on the floor, right behind the door, covering my mouth so my cries wouldn’t be heard. I wept until sleep took over.

When I woke up in the evening, I went to the sitting room to get water. There was food on the table.

"I made your favorite food, Lily. Come and eat," she said.

I was stunned. Taken aback. My mom rarely cooked—especially not my favorite. Maybe she was trying to be a good mother. Maybe this was her way of softening my anger.

I was hungry. It had been a while since I had mango sticky rice. I walked toward the table, picked up the food, and began to eat, pretending not to be too eager.

We didn’t speak while I ate. I could feel her watching me, but I just kept eating. When I was done, I stood up and headed back to my room.

"Lily," she called.

I paused.

"I’m so sorry about yesterday. I didn’t mean what I said. I was frustrated. Please find a way to forgive your mom."

"Yeah. Out of frustration—I get it, Mom. But everything you said… it was still the truth."

"Lily..."

"Mom, did I lie?"

"You didn’t. You’re right. I wasn’t happy to be pregnant with you. I wasn’t ready. I kinda regretted going to that club that night. But Lily… I still love you. You don’t know how proud I am of you. You’re beautiful, intelligent, hardworking, kind… and more. I’m sorry. Truly. For everything."

"I’m not angry anymore, Mom. But I think I deserve to know the truth. Was it really rape… or a one-night mistake?"

---

(She sighed deeply)

"Everything you’ve heard about me… it’s true. I’m a high-class prostitute. Those men? I sleep with them—and they pay me.

You think I’ve been taking care of us with money from makeup jobs? That’s just a cover. Sometimes I don’t get clients for weeks.

I started this at 23. I didn’t want to. But this world—it’s cruel. It has no mercy for the poor. Let alone orphans like me.

And no, Lily. You weren’t a product of rape. Your father is alive."

"What? No… this can’t be true."

I was stunned. I never imagined I'd know a father’s love. I never even knew I had a father.

"Yes, dear. His name is Charles Whittemore.

That night, I had a crush on him. I thought if I used my beauty—my body, my charm, my brain—maybe he’d notice me. Maybe he’d take me as his mistress or… second wife."

"He was married?" I asked, my face tight with curiosity.

"Yes. He had a wife and a little daughter.

But of course, I had my way. We spent time together. It was wonderful. We enjoyed each other. He promised to call me—but he never did.

When I found out I was pregnant—the only man I hadn’t used protection with was him—I told him. He didn’t listen.

I tried to meet him. His wife had the guards throw me out. I was beaten that day.

I took abortion pills. I saw blood. I thought you were gone. But two weeks later, I felt weak, sleepy. I went to the hospital. They confirmed I was still pregnant—one month in.

I tried again to abort, but you refused to go. The doctor warned me I could lose my life. So I gave up.

I decided I’d keep you and give you to an orphanage. But I remembered the pain I endured in one.

So I kept you. Raised you. Alone. It wasn’t easy… but I tried my best. And I never went back to your father."

Her story pierced me. Life can be so unfair. Nobody’s above mistakes. I’m still a mistake. A one-night seed. A daughter with no father.

I saw my mom getting dressed.

"Where are you going again, Mom?"

"Work. A client’s waiting for me."

"Mom… I think you should stop this. Focus on your makeup business. I’ll get a part-time job to cover my expenses."

"No. I’m your mother. I must provide. You go to school and excel. Okay?"

But then her face suddenly turned pale.

"Mom, are you okay?"

"Yeah… just a little weak. But I’ll manage. Go into your room and lock the door. I’ll be back soon."

She left.

I went back to my room and applied for a scholarship. I was settling into bed when the landline rang. I picked it up.

---

"Hello, calling from Geneva Hospital. Mrs. Diana Seren fainted on the road. We need your attention."

Click.

My heart stopped.

My hands trembled.

My head spun.

My legs felt like jelly.

My breath caught in my throat. She was just fine… just a few minutes ago.

I grabbed my coat, panic rising in my chest. I couldn’t think straight. My mind was racing. But only one thought echoed:

She’s all I have.

She can’t be hurt.