The Conscious Parent

In a world where overpopulation is a problem, teenagers from troubled homes, picked by the government, are regressed to infants and toddlers, physically and mentally. In this novel, you follow the story of Alice who is signed up for the programme, not by the government but by her parents. Alice feels confused and betrayed, but all turns around when a lovely couple adopts her.

Raising your own child was natural. But raising another’s child was totally different. When Hannah wholeheartedly played the mommy and daddy role to Elisha, it had been her greatest fear to one day have the child’s real parents knocking on her door to take their unwanted baby back. But for four years, Hannah and Elisha managed to live peacefully. Just when Elisha’s real parents, Olive and Nate were about to tie the knot, Olive was found pregnant with another man. To be able to have her freedom, she told Nate, who surprisingly had no knowledge that he fathered a child, about Elisha. Furious that his daughter was kept secret from him for years, Nate took Elisha from Hannah. But up to what lengths could a mother go to keep her child? Even if Hannah didn’t give birth to Elisha, she’d do everything in her capacity to fight for her daughter. Even if it would mean going against the heartless and dangerous Billionaire, Nate Sarmiento in the process. Even if it seemed like she didn’t have a right, Hannah still raised his child and that’s an irreversible fact. But would Hannah survive the harsh treatment before she could even see Elisha again? If she would, what about from Nate’s charms? Could her inexperienced heart handle the danger of falling in love with a man who loves someone else?

On the day I received my prenatal test results, I heard a voice from inside my belly—my unborn child speaking to me. 'Mom, Dad will divorce you as soon as you give birth to me. His true love can't have children. That's why he married you. You're just a tool to give birth. Once I'm born, he'll divorce you, take me away, and go live happily ever after with her.' I believed every word. Without hesitation, I chose divorce. For nine months, I focused on carrying the pregnancy, planning to raise the child on my own. But on the day I went into labor, something went terribly wrong. The doctor said the baby was premature, and the position was dangerously abnormal. "The baby keeps flipping around inside you," she said. "It's like it's deliberately putting you through hell." Eight hours of emergency treatment accomplished nothing. In the end, it was a difficult labor—both mother and child died. As my consciousness faded, I heard that voice again. 'Haha. Dad never cheated at all. I lied to you.' Why would a child lie? I couldn't understand it, not even at the moment of death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day I first received the prenatal test report.

The day I signed the divorce papers, I voluntarily gave up custody of my daughter. Because that day, in the courtroom, she clung to her father’s neck, sobbing with all the fury a six-year-old could muster: “You don’t even love me… do you? If you leave Daddy, I’ll stay with him… and you’ll be all alone forever!” In my past life, I had ignored her childish threats. I fought tooth and nail for her custody. I poured every ounce of myself into raising her. And yet… she spent her entire life hating me. Not once did she ever call me “Mom” until the day I died. On her wedding day, she even invited her father’s mistress to the stage to give a speech of thanks. Now, opening my eyes again, seeing that same cruel little face staring back at me, I simply nodded. “I don’t care.” After all… I never wanted a daughter like her anyway.

This is the seventh year of my arranged marriage to Frank Jackson, yet he is constantly seeing other women. Because of that, I become known in our circle as the ever-tolerant wife. Everyone is watching and waiting to see when a mistress will finally replace me. But when I unexpectedly get pregnant, I hear a furious voice screaming at me from my belly in my mind. "Mommy, are you some holy saint? In your past life, you kept tolerating everything. That was exactly why my scumbag dad's mistress drove you out and left you for dead on the streets! "That vile woman is practically trampling all over you. How can you not fight back? Slap her! While you're at it, give my fool of a dad a good slap, too! The more you tolerate, the more people push their luck. You need to stand up for yourself and divorce that scumbag!" I swallow nervously, but my hand is already itching to act. Maybe I should try doing what the baby says...

The day I received my provisional acceptance into a graduate program, my mom came home carrying two shopping bags with the Apple logo on them. She said with a smile, "Since you're both heading to graduate school, I bought each of you a new laptop. It's only fair." My sister eagerly tore open her bag. Inside was the latest MacBook—sleek, lightweight, and beautiful. Then, Mom handed me mine. It was an older model from several years ago, with basic specs and not even a single accessory included. I looked down at the two laptops, the difference between them impossible to ignore. Before I could say anything, Mom gently ruffled my hair. "Sunny, your field doesn't require that much computing power. This one's durable, and it was a great deal. I went to several stores before I found the right one for you, so don't overthink it." She smiled as she spoke, almost hoping I would praise her for all the effort she had made. She did love me. To prove she did not play favorites, she spent a sweltering summer afternoon driving from store to store to find my laptop. However, she had forgotten one thing. My sister and I were in the exact same graduate program. That was when I realized something I should have understood long ago. The love she gave me was always just a little less. From that day on, I stopped hoping it would ever be enough.