Chapter 3

After that beating, Noah's wailing echoed through the yard for a long time. I looked at his tear-streaked face and instinctively reached out to wipe his cheeks.

At the same time, his thoughts rang clearly in my ears again. "It was all Mom's fault. Because of her, I got beaten. The one who should have been hit was Mom."

My hand froze in midair before I slowly withdrew it.

In my previous life, after I was dragged back, Ruth had hung me from the old tree in the yard and beaten me for a day and a night. The belt split my clothes apart, my blood mixing with my sweat as it dripped into the dirt.

Back then, I could never understand how every single escape plan I made was exposed before I even took a step.

I had suspected Evelyn from next door, who had also tied up her daughter-in-law in the woodshed. I had suspected every neighbor who might have turned me in.

However, it never crossed my mind that the child I had nearly died giving birth to—the child I always shielded with my body whenever I was beaten—had been the eyes watching me.

I turned and went into the kitchen, lit the stove, and pan-fried some cornbread. The warm smell of butter and corn filled the air.

Noah, with tears still on his face, followed the scent and ran in. He grabbed the corner of my clothes.

"Mom, I want some cornbread."

At the same time, his thoughts were sweet to the point of being sticky.

"Mom's cornbread is the best in the whole world. If Mom runs away, no one will ever make it for me again. I absolutely cannot let Mom leave."

I gently brushed his hand aside and packed the cornbread into a woven basket.

"This is for Mr. Grant at the other end of the village," I said calmly. "He's going to help me with something important."

Noah's eyes flickered. He lowered his voice. "What kind of help?"

I leaned closer, pressed a finger to my lips, and whispered, "I've spoken to Mr. Grant. Early tomorrow morning, I'll ride his motorcycle out of the village. Noah, will you come with me?"

A glint of slyness flashed in Noah's eyes, mixed with childish malice. "Tomorrow morning?"

I nodded.

I stroke his hair. "This is our secret. You must not tell anyone, especially Grandma and Dad. Do you understand me?"

He nodded vigorously, his voice as sweet as honey. "Don't worry, Mom. I won't tell anyone."

Early the next morning, before heading out with the cornbread, I reminded him once more. Watching his solemn, earnest expression, I circled around to the backyard and hid behind the woodpile.

Sure enough, the moment I left, he ran straight into the kitchen to find Ruth.

"Grandma! Mom is running away with Mr. Grant today!"

This time, Ruth was unusually cautious. She pressed him again and again. "Noah, did you see clearly? If you lie again, I'll punish you severely."

"I swear it's true," Noah said firmly. "Mom said it herself. She's even taking me with her. She made cornbread for Mr. Grant, too."

Ruth glanced at the now-empty basket, and her face changed instantly.

Moments later, she and Liam charged toward Harry's house with a group of villagers in tow. Liam kicked open the rickety wooden door.

"Harry Grant! How dare you touch my woman?"

He stormed inside, ready to catch us in the act. But the scene everyone imagined never happened because the one lying in bed with Harry wasn't me. It was Liam's younger sister, Emma Barrett.

Ruth trembled with rage and grabbed Emma by the hair. "Emma, you shameless disgrace! What are you doing here?"

The villagers were stunned, then began pointing and whispering to one another about the Barrett family. Liam stood there holding a stick, unable to strike yet unable to stop, his face twisted with humiliation.

By the time I arrived leisurely with the cornbread, Ruth lunged at me like a madwoman. "You slut! Are you here to meet your lover?"

I stumbled back in panic. "Ruth, what are you saying? Harry has connections in town. I wanted to ask him to help Liam find a job."

Ruth sneered and flipped open the basket. On top of the cornbread lay a note that read, "Harry, please take extra care with Liam's matter."

The evidence was complete. My explanation was airtight.

After stirring up trouble again and again, Ruth had already worn out the patience of the entire village. The onlookers muttered among themselves.

"Come on, Ruth. You bought this daughter-in-law fair and square, and she's willing to live properly with the family. What are you still making such a fuss about?"

Humiliated and furious, Ruth drove everyone away and forced us back home. In the yard, the sound of the broom striking Emma and Noah rose and fell again and again.

Noah's wails grew louder with each blow, yet I only stood quietly beneath the eaves. As I watched his eyes swell from crying, I thought to myself.

It was time for the next step.