Chapter 3

Emma hadn't been gone long before my mother couldn't wait to force me to quit school and work.

I refused. I knew, with absolute clarity, that knowledge could change my destiny.

So I played along, soothing my mother, convincing her I would work when I grew up, all the while studying harder than ever.

My homeroom teacher told me about a guaranteed admission spot—if I earned it, I could attend university tuition-free.

I knew this was my one shot, so I threw myself into my studies even more fiercely. Every night, I waited until my mother fell asleep, then secretly lit a candle to read.

Life was hard, yes, but compared to my past life, it was paradise.

Perhaps fate finally smiled on me: I earned the guaranteed admission. My teacher wanted to tell my family, but I shook my head, asking her to keep it a secret.

My mother, of course, tried to stop me from taking the exam. Thinking back, in my previous life, she had spent a fortune sending Emma to an expensive vocational college. Yet now, she refused to let me attend university.

It didn't matter anymore. I was leaving this suffocating place. Quietly, I went to the exam anyway.

By the time my mother grabbed her stick, searching the house, I was already on the train to university.

The fare had been given to me by my father's old friend, Howard Evans. I promised I'd repay him tenfold someday.

He waved me off, pity in his eyes. "You poor child… go. Don't come back."

University life was beautiful. I had to work part-time to make ends meet, and my meals and clothes could never compare to my classmates', but I was happy.

By now, Emma should have encountered my ex-husband, Axel Brixton. I imagined she would surely try to seduce him, thinking he could whisk her away.

How laughable. How could she think that man was worth it?

She had no idea that in my past life, I had only gone along with him to escape my aunt.

Axel seemed refined and handsome, but he was nothing more than an abusive, controlling man.

Emma thought my aunt would treat her like a beloved daughter, but that was never the plan. My aunt had married Zandumore man solely for a green card, using it to run illicit operations.

As soon as I arrived, I was forced to learn disgusting Zandumorian phrases to entertain men. That island man, my aunt's husband, was a pervert—he made me wear bunny ears and a maid outfit, dancing for him over and over.

Countless times, I had wanted to run, but I was alone in a foreign land, unable to speak the language, with nowhere to turn.

When I came of age, my aunt made me work in her shady operation, hosting one client after another.

That's when I truly understood despair. I lived like a broken doll under the neon glare of drunken, decadent nights—a life that felt more like a nightmare than reality.

Until Axel appeared. He spoke a little English and asked if I wanted to leave with him. I had no choice but to nod.

I thought life might finally improve. Instead, I fell from one abyss into another.

Axel had violent tendencies. After I went with him, the beatings began sporadically and eventually became daily.

When he was in a good mood, he had me learn Zandumorian with him. I endured everything, worked every job I could find, washed dishes, carried heavy loads, and countless nights I slept on the streets just to avoid his blows.

Eventually, I clawed my way back to some semblance of a life and found a way to return home.

Now, I couldn't help but wonder: How far could Emma possibly endure?