Chapter 3

Sometimes when I came home at night, I was so hungry and couldn't find noodles, so I had no choice but to eat the leftovers on the counter.

In summer's heat, the food hadn't been refrigerated and had easily spoiled.

I was too hungry to be picky and swallowed it in a few bites, then rushed to wash up and sleep.

After all, Lester would wake me up after four the next day under the pretense of "training" to make breakfast for the whole family.

This night when I came home, besides the leftovers on the kitchen counter, there was surprisingly a watermelon.

Watermelon...

I swallowed hard, picking at the leftovers in my bowl.

I'd long forgotten when I last ate watermelon. I just looked at it longingly.

Lester, wearing her nightgown, somehow entered the kitchen.

When she saw me, she slapped me without question, her mouth spraying saliva.

"You bastard! How did I give birth to something so lazy, greedy, and inconsiderate!"

"Taking pity on you, I specially left you leftovers, and you're still not satisfied—you want to eat the watermelon I prepared for my husband and son! Today I'll smash your mouth!"

As always, she didn't bother distinguishing right from wrong. After speaking, she raised her palm-sized hand and slapped my cheeks repeatedly.

Soon my vision went black, and worse, my stomach began to cramp, my insides churning.

Feeling the upheaval in my stomach, I ignored the cursing Lester and rushed past her into the bathroom to vomit.

Wave after wave of nausea gave me no chance to leave the bathroom.

Outside, Lester started jumping and cursing.

"You shameless slut, have you been sleeping with men outside?"

"Bastard! You're so young and already promiscuous. You're ugly and dirty—who'll want you now? If I can't sell you off, how will I collect betrothal gifts?"

She charged forward again and beat my face and the back of my head.

For a moment, I couldn't tell which part hurt more. I just felt cold sweat all over, dizzy and ears ringing.

Lester forcibly dragged me back to my room. She threw me on the floor, then snatched my phone.

"You'll stay home for now. When the bastard in your belly starves to death, then you can go out!"

She meant what she said. The next day she changed the door lock, locked me at home, and gave me no food.

My stomach hurt terribly. I curled up on the bed, consciousness gradually fading.

Would I die?