Chapter 2

"Malcolm must've understood his parents' good intentions. He's so young and already so mature—my heart's melting."

"No surprise there—his parents made the right call, after all. That's why Malcolm turned out to be so outstanding in the future. Even when he got rich, he continued to live a frugal life."

"His parents must feel so gratified right now."

I lifted my head in confusion, wanting to see whether my parents were truly happy and gratified, just as the floating comments said.

But when my eyes met my mother's, Rebecca Hansen, all I saw on her face was cold indifference.

"Malcolm, what are you looking at me for? You got something to say? Or is this a silent protest? You know what, forget it. Since it's your birthday today, I won't lecture you any further. But this is the last time.

"Remember, you're five years old now—no longer a child. Now go back to your room and redo every question you got wrong on your last paper ten times. You're not allowed to go to bed until you're done."

Terrified, I covered my face and bolted back to my bedroom. As I corrected my test paper, I was so full of pain that I was on the verge of tears again.

By then, I thought the comments were all lies. My parents weren't happy at all.

Yet, those comments would always appear whenever I was hurting to comfort me.

"Mrs. Maxwell has a sharp tongue but a soft heart. The moment Malcolm went into his room, she broke down crying in distress."

"Parents always have their children's best interests at heart. They're so strict with Malcolm now because they want him to grow up to be outstanding."

"They just love Malcolm too much."

Because of these comments, I began to brainwash myself in a way that was almost twisted.

I tried hard to believe that my parents truly loved me and that everything they did was for my own good. At the same time, I started relying on the floating comments to decipher my parents' emotions and their love for me.

For some reason, my parents never seemed to smile whenever they saw me, yet the comments kept saying they were overjoyed.

There was this one time my teacher, Norma Cohen, praised me for a drawing I did and rewarded me with a gold star sticker. I happily took it home to give it to Mom.

But she merely glanced at it before tossing the gold star sticker into the trash.

"Malcolm, have you forgotten what your father and I told you again? A little bit of success and you're already getting smug and carried away? It's only a gold star sticker. Why can't you be more like Nathan? Even without any gold star stickers, he stays composed and level-headed.

"Looks like cutting up your clothes last time still didn't teach you a lesson. Hold out your hand. I'm going to give your palm a good smacking today. Let's see if you'll ever dare to be so arrogant and conceited again."

I shook my head frantically, refusing to extend my hand. I couldn't understand it—clearly, I had earned a gold star sticker and received praise from Ms. Cohen, so why was I being scolded by Mom and blamed for not measuring up to Nathan?

Yet, the floating comments approved of what Mom did.

"Mrs. Maxwell has a point. It's just a gold star sticker, and Malcolm's already showing off. He could easily become big-headed in the future."

"Malcolm, you should just hold out your hand. After all, your mother has been through it all. She only disciplines you occasionally for your own good. You'll thank her when you're older."

"I'm a perfect example of that. When I was little, my parents never disciplined me. As a result, my grades were always poor. I really envy Malcolm for having such a great mom."

And so, I no longer dared to shake my head or speak up to defend myself. All I could do was grit my teeth through the pain and admit I was wrong.

And Mom really did seem gratified by my reaction, just as the comments had said. She released my hand and then handed me a tube of ointment.

"If it hurts, put the ointment on yourself."