Chapter 8. Starting a New Career.

“Wait, let me answer this call first. I’ll explain later, Darling,” Jessica said hurriedly, her face looking tense. She quickly rushed out of the room, as if trying to escape her daughter’s gaze.

Amora, still seated where she was, could only watch her mother’s back disappear behind the door. Something felt strange. That warm smile from earlier had suddenly vanished the moment the phone rang.

Is Mommy hiding something from me? she wondered, her brows knitting in suspicion.

Before she could dwell on her thoughts, two nurses entered the room. “Miss Amora, it’s time to move you to the recovery room,” one of them said with a friendly smile.

Amora nodded faintly. She didn’t protest, merely laying back down on the hospital bed. The two nurses carefully pushed her bed toward another room. A complete recovery was waiting ahead; the wounds from her plastic surgery had to heal perfectly before she could begin a new life.

.

Two days passed. Finally, the moment Amora had been waiting for arrived—the day she was discharged from the beauty surgery hospital. As she stepped out through the grand hospital doors, she felt something different. It was as if she had been reborn.

There stood Jessica, holding a large bouquet of flowers in her arms. A proud smile bloomed across her face as she welcomed her daughter, now appearing so graceful.

“My darling, Amora…” she whispered softly, her eyes glistening with restrained emotion.

Yet deep in her heart, Jessica felt a strange longing. She missed the old Amora—chubby, innocent, and with a face that resembled hers. But she knew she couldn’t be selfish. Her daughter’s future mattered more than nostalgia.

Amora had to be happy. No more humiliation, no more men cruel enough to betray her. No more women mocking her with the cruel nickname of “obese pig.”

Jessica drew in a long breath and handed over the bouquet. “At last, my months of waiting have finally paid off. You’re healthy again… and so beautiful.” She gently caressed Amora’s delicate cheek.

Amora accepted the flowers with trembling hands. Her smile widened, though her eyes glistened with tears. “Mommy, this is all because of you. I’m so, so grateful. If there’s any way I could repay your sacrifices, I’d give you the world and everything in it.”

“Amora, you’re exaggerating,” Jessica chuckled, though her eyes were clouded. “I’m your mother. How could I ever let my only daughter suffer?”

But Amora’s smile faded, replaced by a sharp, searching gaze. “But remember, Mommy… you still owe me an explanation. Where did you get the money for all this? The surgery, the hospital… it couldn’t have been cheap.”

Jessica froze. Her lips, which had been smiling just moments ago, pressed tightly shut. She lowered her head, avoiding her daughter’s piercing eyes.

“Mommy?” Amora pressed.

Jessica let out a deep sigh, trying to divert the conversation. “Oh, Amora… you’re right, I forgot. I haven’t had the chance to explain yet. But later, when we get to the apartment—I still have a surprise for you, sweetheart.” She slipped an arm around her daughter’s shoulder, as if to hide her unease.

Amora kept staring at her, questions burning in her eyes. Her heart was restless, yet she chose not to push further. She followed her mother toward the car, though one thought echoed relentlessly in her mind:

What is Mommy really hiding from me?

Amora leaned back in the rear seat of the taxi, right beside her mother. Outside the window, the city sparkled against the night sky, but her thoughts remained fixed on Jessica’s weary face. There were lines of worry there, as though she was carrying a burden too heavy to share.

“Mommy, are you all right?” Amora broke the silence.

Jessica turned quickly and offered a small smile. “Yes, of course, Amora.”

But Amora knew that smile was fake. She reached for her mother’s hand, holding it tightly. “Don’t lie to me, Mommy. I can tell—you’ve got so much on your mind.”

Jessica’s breath grew heavy before she finally spoke softly, “I just… miss Robert. If only your Daddy were still alive, he’d be so happy, so proud to see how you look now.”

Amora’s heart sank. She immediately wrapped her arms around her mother. “I promise, Mommy… I won’t let you down again.”

Jessica said nothing, only hugging her daughter back tightly, as if afraid of losing her all over again.

When they finally arrived at the apartment, Amora let out a long sigh of relief. She slipped off her shoes and dropped herself onto the living room sofa. It felt as though she had just survived a storm, and now she could finally enjoy the life that had almost been stolen from her past.

As she reached for a book on the small table, her mother approached with a brightly colored paper in hand—a ticket to a modeling competition.

“Amora,” Jessica said excitedly. “One of the top labels is holding a contest to find a new advertising model. Tomorrow is the last day to register, and I’ve already signed you up.”

Amora froze. She stared at the ticket, her heart stirring uneasily. Modeling? She had no experience. She swallowed hard, trying to refuse politely.

“Mommy… you know that I—”

“Don’t be pessimistic, Amora,” Jessica cut her off firmly. “Just try. You know, that ticket wasn’t easy to get.”

Amora fell silent. There was such determination in her mother’s eyes that she couldn’t bring herself to argue. Slowly, she gave a faint smile. “All right then. I’ll do it. To make you happy, Mommy.”

.

The next day, Amora stepped into the grand building where the competition was being held. Bright lights illuminated the lavish lobby, the marble floors reflecting her elegant silhouette.

Wearing a simple yet graceful dress, she walked down the corridor with newfound confidence. Her hair flowed beautifully, each step echoing like a rhythm that drew admiring glances from those around her.

For the first time, Amora felt truly valued. Those gazes didn’t make her shrink. Instead, her spirit soared, as though this was the beginning of a new life, an identity far removed from her scars of the past.

Yet, that confidence slowly waned. As she passed a row of empty rooms, her footsteps slowed. The air felt different—heavier, as though it thickened around her. She stopped, glancing over her shoulder.

Silence.

Her heart pounded faster. She was certain she had heard footsteps following, though her eyes found no one.

“Is someone there?” Amora called out, her voice echoing down the deserted corridor.

No reply. Only her own voice bounced back, deepening the emptiness.

Amora swallowed hard. Her hands trembled slightly as she resumed walking. That feeling grew stronger—like a shadow was watching her, waiting just beyond the wall.