Chapter 2

I didn't know how much time passed before my body started feeling lighter.

When I opened my eyes, I was floating above everything.

Had I escaped?

Then I looked down.

My body was still on the firewood pile.

Bruised all over. Neck bent wrong. Head hanging limp like a broken doll.

Good news—I'd escaped that village.

Bad news—I was already dead.

When I got home, Mom was knitting on the couch. Dad stood by the window, anxious.

"It's getting late. Why isn't Kaia home yet? What did she say when she called?"

Mom didn't even look up. "I told her to do something good, and she claimed she'd been kidnapped and forced to have some man's baby. She was trying to trick me into saying something sinful.

"A decent person doesn't break up a family. If I told her not to have that baby, all my years of good deeds would be ruined.

"I'm such a kind woman. How did I give birth to such a wicked daughter?"

I hovered over them, trying to explain.

"Mom, I wasn't rebelling. I really was kidnapped. I wasn't lying."

Dad slammed his fist on the table.

"This is insane! Kaia's always been a good kid. Why would she make something like that up? I'm calling her."

I silently begged him to realize I was missing.

Even if I was dead, I wanted my parents to bring me home instead of leaving my body in that cold, filthy shed.

Mom panicked. She tossed her knitting aside and grabbed his arm.

"Why call her? I already know what this is."

Then she pulled out her phone and opened a few photos.

I drifted closer.

Every photo was a candid shot of me with some random boy.

In one, I was dropping off breakfast.

In another, I was handing someone a bottle of water.

Dad frowned.

"What is this supposed to prove?"

I was only doing little favors for classmates to make some extra cash. Plus, with a receipt, Mom counted it as my good deed for the day.

So why had she been taking pictures?

Mom gave a smug smile. "Lately, I noticed all her receipts were signed by boys. That's when I started wondering if she had a boyfriend."

Dad frowned. "You can tell if handwriting is from a boy or a girl? What are you even talking about?"

Mom snapped back, "Ever since I made her bring home receipts for her good deeds, the girls in her class stopped hanging out with her. So obviously, those weren't from girls."

My heart turned to ice.

So Mom knew I was being shut out.

My books had been shredded and dumped in the trash.

My bed had been soaked with cold water.

Someone even wrote 'SAINT' across the back of my school uniform.

After lights-out, I scrubbed it in freezing water until the word barely faded.

Whenever I told Mom how bad it was, she called me useless. Said I hadn't done enough good deeds, so I deserved it.

Dad sighed. "How is Kaia supposed to survive school like this? I don't mind you making her do good deeds, but kids her age are sensitive. And making her collect receipts..."

Mom cut him off. "What do you know? I'm toughening her up. People who do good deeds shouldn't care about praise. Helping others isn't about getting something back.

"But look at her. She runs off, starts dating, then calls saying she's going to have some man's baby!

"Stay out of it. I need to set her straight."

Dad finally let out a defeated sigh, shook his head, and went back to his room.

Tears ran down my face. My chest hurt so much I could barely breathe.

Mom was a stay-at-home mom. Anytime someone needed help, she was the first to step in.

Even when we barely had enough ourselves, she'd still force herself to lend things out.

When our apartment complex flooded last year, she gave away our family's last bag of rice.

For the next three days, we lived on nothing but water.

I was her favorite way to do good deeds.

Freshman year, when school was already crushing me, Mom promised the neighbor I'd tutor their third grader.

So every night after study hall, I spent another hour at their place teaching for free.

Whenever Mom went out, everyone praised her for being pretty and kind.

Every time, she'd narrow her eyes and lift her chin like she'd won something.

Wasn't that chasing praise too?