Chapter 2

Mom abruptly clapped a hand over her mouth before she could finish, and Dad's expression changed too.

I still remembered that day. It was my 12th birthday. Dad had promised to take me to the restaurant I'd been wanting to try for ages, and Mom had said that since I was the birthday girl, we would do whatever I wanted.

But as soon as we entered the mall, Charlotte wrapped her arms around Mom's leg and begged to go to the children's playground upstairs.

Mom looked at me apologetically. "She's still young. We'll let her play for a while, then we'll go. You're her older sister. Surely you can wait a bit? It will be just a little while."

I nodded.

But that little while turned into two hours. By the time Charlotte had finally had enough, we rushed to the restaurant, only to find that our reservation had been canceled.

Dad said it was fine and that we could just go somewhere else, but Charlotte started crying, demanding that we buy her a toy. Then, she broke free of Mom's hand and ran into the crowd. We lost sight of her within minutes.

Mom and Dad completely lost it.

They made announcements over the mall's PA system, called the police, and went from store to store checking surveillance footage. Mom cried so hard she could barely stand, while Dad was so frantic that he slapped himself twice across the face.

No one remembered that I hadn't had a single bite of food since that morning.

By evening, I was starting to feel faint.

As we passed a bakery, I picked up a little sample bun. But the moment I put it in my mouth, Mom slapped my hand away and asked loudly, "You're still thinking about eating when Lottie is missing?"

Everyone around us turned to stare.

I covered my face and whispered, "But I'm hungry."

Mom had been crying all afternoon, and she was already at her breaking point. She grabbed my shoulders and shook me hard. "She's only six years old! She must be terrified out there all alone! How can you not be worried about her at all?"

I told her I'd been helping look for Charlotte too. I'd followed them around all afternoon, running until the soles of my shoes had worn through and my heels were covered in blood.

But Mom acted as though she hadn't heard a word. "Do you hate us for only caring about Lottie and not celebrating your birthday? But you won't die just because you skipped a meal! Why are you such a glutton?"

I stared at her blankly.

The moment she finished speaking, she regretted her words and reached out to hug me. But just then, an announcement came over the mall's PA system—Charlotte had been found.

Mom immediately shoved me aside and rushed toward the information desk like a madwoman. Dad followed right behind her. Neither of them looked back.

I stood alone outside the bakery and picked up the bun that had fallen on the ground. It was all covered in dirt, so I didn't eat it. But I remembered Mom's words—going hungry for a little while wouldn't hurt me. Charlotte was more important.

Dr. Folston asked quietly, "Was that when you stopped eating?"

I shook my head. "At first, I just wanted to see what would happen."

The first meal I skipped, no one noticed. The second meal I skipped, Mom praised me for being sensible and gave my fried chicken to Charlotte. On the third day, I fainted at school.

Dad dropped everything at work and rushed to the hospital, and Mom held me in her arms and cried all night.

When I woke up, I felt for the first time that I'd won. I looked at Mom and said softly, "Mom, now I understand. Skipping a few meals really won't kill me."

Back in the consultation room, Mom collapsed onto the floor, sobbing so hard she couldn't make a sound.

Dr. Folston, however, furrowed her brows. "Where exactly was Charlotte found that day?"

Dad answered hoarsely, "In the emergency stairwell behind the children's playground. She said she'd gotten lost."

I smiled. "But what you didn't know was that I went back to the mall later and checked the surveillance footage. She hadn't gotten lost at all."

In the footage, Charlotte had been hiding behind the railing on the second floor the entire time. She watched as Mom and Dad searched frantically for her.

She also watched Mom slap the bun out of my hand. And at the very moment I was struck, she leaned over the railing and laughed.