Every night after my father cheated, Mom washed his body with steel wool. She would spray rubbing alcohol onto his raw, bleeding back, her voice a manic, repeating whisper. “Dirty. You’re so dirty, Wesley. So dirty.” Dad’s face would go bone-white from the agonizing sting, but his eyes were always swimming with guilt. He never flinched, never pulled away. Instead, he would look at my wide, bewildered eyes and offer a gentle, quiet comfort. “Daddy made a mistake, Gemma. Mommy is doing the right thing.” But on my sixth birthday, Dad asked if he could take a shower by himself. The knife shook in Mom’s hand as she sliced my birthday cake. Suddenly, she snapped, lunging at him and tearing desperately at his shirt. “Are you sleeping with her again? Your little apprentice, Amber? Is she that desperate? Can’t she live without you?” “You’re pathetic, Wesley! You have a family right here, but you’d rather ruin your career and throw away your reputation just to sleep with garbage!” After Mom slapped him for the eighteenth time, Dad finally reached his breaking point. He caught her wrists and yanked up his sleeve, exposing a jagged, angry wound on his arm. “I nearly lost my arm fixing the main press at the plant today, and you don’t even care! All you do is obsess over who I’m sleeping with! When does it end!” “Even if Amber is messy, she’s still better than you. At least she didn’t grow up fooling around with her own stepbrother! I’d rather sleep with her any day. What of it?” The candle on my cake flickered out without warning, plunging our small company-housing apartment into a dim, suffocating twilight. Mom’s hand fell limp at her side. The fierce, manic light in her eyes simply vanished. I knew then: Mom was tired. Truly tired. She was ready to let go. … 1 The dry air in the room was thick with a dead, heavy silence. Dad was the first to snap out of it. He tugged the pull-string switch, and the dim, yellow bulb cast a flickering shadow across the room. He reached out instinctively to grab Mom’s hand, but he caught only empty air. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” “The machine malfunctioned today. I got hurt while trying to repair it. I only wanted to wash up myself because I didn’t want you to worry.” “Look at me, Meredith. I’m clean. There’s no scent of another woman’s cold cream on me. I swear.” Mom’s stepbrother had been an orphaned boy her stepfather brought home when they were kids. Two years older than her, she had been thrilled to finally have an older brother. She never expected that years later, he would pin her against a wall, trying to make her his. It was Dad who had happened to walk by and save her, promising never to speak a word of it to anyone. But now, he was the one using it as a weapon to tear her apart. Mom didn’t say a word. She turned her back to him, picking up the cold dishes to put them back into the steamer to reheat. Only then did Dad realize he was two hours late getting home. Two hours. That was a very specific, agonizing number in our house. A year ago, when Dad was two hours late, Mom had been so worried she ran out into a torrential downpour to find him at the plant. Peering through the dusty glass of the control room, she saw Dad and Amber tangled together. I had been riding piggyback on Mom, giggling innocently. “Is Daddy playing a game? He’s riding on Auntie Amber’s back just like I ride on yours!” “Daddy is like a puppy, playing so happily with Auntie Amber.” Mom had quickly covered my eyes, whispering for me to look away. I only remembered how hard it rained that night, the thunder shaking the earth. But as she carried me home on her back, she wept louder than the storm. Remembering this, Dad’s face drained of color. He mumbled, his voice trembling. “I’m sorry. There was really an emergency at the plant.” “I promise you, nothing like that will ever happen again. Let’s just live our lives quietly.” Mom kept her back turned, offering no reply. Assuming her silence was a quiet acceptance, Dad let out a long, relieved sigh. He went to change his clothes and sat back down at the table, his bandaged arm resting quietly. “Happy birthday, Gemma. And here’s to many more years just like this for us.” To many more years, through every season. That had been their wedding vow. They used to repeat it to each other every year. But tonight, Mom didn’t complete the sentence. She just kept silently scooping food into my bowl. Dad sighed softly and pulled two beautifully wrapped gifts from his coat pocket. One was a pair of pearl earrings; the other was a porcelain doll. “I bought these on my business trip down south. I knew you two would love them.” Though I was thrilled, I stole a glance at Mom’s face first. She gave me a small, reassuring nod, signaling that I could accept them. A spark of hope lit up Dad’s eyes. He leaned in gently, trying to slip one of the pearl earrings into Mom’s earlobe. But before he could secure the clasp, the front door was hammered so violently by the night watchman that the frame rattled. “Engineer Wesley! Come quick! The calibration is off, and Amber got her sleeve caught in the assembly line again!” Dad’s hand slipped. The sharp metal post of the earring gouged into Mom’s earlobe, and blood began to bead and run. Mom gasped from the sudden sting, tears welling in her eyes. Without looking back, Dad pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it against her bleeding ear, already heading for the door. “There’s an emergency at the plant. I have to go.” We both knew there was no emergency at the plant. There was only Amber. And Dad’s injury from earlier wasn’t from a rogue machine—it was from shielding Amber. Mom stared down at the handkerchief left in her hand. It was embroidered with a wild rose—Amber’s favorite flower. After a long, quiet moment, Mom let out a soft, hollow laugh. She stroked my hair, whispering a gentle apology. “I’m so sorry I ruined your sixth birthday, sweetie.” “But Mommy can’t do this anymore. I’m leaving your father.” When Mom took me to the municipal registry office, it was already the next morning. Dad hadn’t come home all night, and Mom hadn’t slept a wink. She held her red identification booklet, staring blankly at the clerk, taking a long moment to process the words spoken to her. “What do you mean our marriage certificate is invalid? Wesley and I aren’t husband and wife?” The clerk, a kind-faced older woman, sighed with deep sympathy. “I checked the registry database multiple times. Wesley is indeed registered as married. But not to you. His legal wife is Amber.” “They filed the paperwork with a special unit exemption a year ago.” One year ago. That was exactly three months after Amber had first moved into our house. When Mom first brought her home, Amber was black and blue, covered in cuts and bruises. Mom had told us she was a broken soul, and that we must treat her with kindness. I remembered Dad complaining in private back then, calling Amber a troubled girl from the streets, warning that keeping someone like her around would ruin my upbringing. That was the first time I ever saw Mom raise her voice at him, accusing him of lacking basic human empathy, making him swear he would treat Amber like his own sister. Once Amber recovered, she clung to Dad, eventually becoming his apprentice at the plant. Mom had been genuinely happy, thinking Amber was finally on the right path, and that Dad had let go of his prejudices. She never expected the path would lead straight to her own undoing. Dad came home early that evening. Seeing the dining table bare, he arched an eyebrow. “I’m sorry about missing dinner yesterday. Let me make it up to you. I’ll take us out to a nice restaurant.” Mom didn’t move. She simply pointed to our framed wedding portrait on the wall. “Wesley, when did your heart change?” “Was it a year ago, or was it the very first moment you laid eyes on Amber?” The photograph on the wall was already yellowing, its edges curling. In it, Dad looked stiff and formal, while Mom’s lips were pressed into a tight, nervous line. But in the photos of Dad and Amber at the plant, they both laughed with radiant, carefree abandon. Dad froze for a second, then let out a dismissive laugh. “You’re angry over a piece of paper? If you want to take new pictures, we can go to the studio right now.” “Amber is young and brilliant; her talent shouldn’t be wasted. Marrying her was just a formality to secure her residency and her spot in the plant’s fast-track program.” “It’s just a legal loophole. If it bothers you this much, I’ll file for divorce immediately.” I tugged at the hem of Mom’s shirt, looking up with innocent confusion. “Is that why the school wouldn’t let me register? Because of that paper?” Dad went rigid, a flush of embarrassment creeping up his neck. I was already past the age to start school. Every time Mom took me to register, the administrators always told her my paperwork didn’t meet the requirements. Mom had spent weeks running from office to office, wearing out two pairs of shoes, only to receive a quiet warning from an old clerk: “Are you sure about your husband’s legal status? You should look into that before you try registering the child.” Mom had assumed it was because Dad worked on confidential projects for the plant. She didn’t know that her husband wasn’t legally her husband, and that I was an illegitimate child—a ghost with no legal standing. Mom held me close, keeping her silence. Dad cleared his throat, softening his tone. “Once Amber gets her union tenure, I’ll divorce her. Then we’ll get Gemma into the best private academy in town. Just wait a little longer, okay?” Mom slipped out of his reach, looking up with calm, empty eyes. “So you never had feelings for her? It was all just a favor?” Dad nodded vigorously, trying to pull us both into a tight embrace. “I swear to God. In my heart, there is only you and Gemma.” I wrinkled my nose, pulling away from him in disgust. The scent clinging to his collar was the unmistakable, sweet aroma of Amber’s cold cream. Just then, the door creaked open. Amber stood there in a delicate floral sundress, her bottom lip trembling, her eyes rimmed with red. “Wes… I’m pregnant.” I looked up, catching the unmistakable flash of joy that crossed Dad’s eyes before he could hide it. Amber slid a medical form onto the table, her expression torn. “I know you only married me to help me get my union status. I won’t keep this baby.” “I only came because I wanted the baby’s father to know he existed. The doctor said… it’s a boy.” Tears trickled down Amber’s pale cheeks, catching the light of the pearl necklace around her throat. It was a perfect match to the earrings Dad had given Mom, only hers was far larger, far more expensive. Amber touched her neck, looking sheepish. “Wes gave this to me as a reward for winning the plant’s design competition. If it makes you uncomfortable, sister, I’ll take it off.” Dad’s eyes darted around in panic. He opened his mouth to explain, but Mom cut him off. She calmly took off her own pearl earrings and tossed them onto the table. “You already wear my old clothes and sleep with my husband. Since you love my secondhand trash so much, you might as well take these too.” Amber’s mock-innocent smile stiffened, but she quickly recovered, flashing a sharp, triumphant grin. She picked them up and put them on. “Thank you, sister. You’re so generous. It seems Wes was right to sleep with me. Compared to your flat, cold body, I obviously know how to keep him happy.” “After all, he told me that no matter how wild I am, at least I never slept with my own brother. I’m clean where it counts.” “Amber! Shut your mouth and get out of here!” Dad roared, stepping between Amber and Mom. Amber’s eyes flooded with tears, and she spun around, running out into the twilight. Dad hovered in place for a second, then tried to sound casual as he looked back at Mom. “It’s getting dark. It’s not safe for her to be out alone in her condition.” “You two wait for me here. I’ll be right back.” Beneath the table, Mom’s nails dug so hard into her palms that her knuckles turned white. I never imagined Mom’s deepest, most painful secret would be whispered in bed to Amber as a joke. And I never imagined Dad would defend Amber, leaving Mom behind once again. Mom watched his retreating figure as he ran down the street, then quietly began packing our bags. As she locked the door behind us, I kept looking down the empty road. Mom took my hand, shaking her head softly. “Don’t look back, sweetie. He’s not coming back.” As we walked toward the train station, thin flakes of snow began to drift down from the gray sky. Suddenly, Amber stepped out from the shadows of an alley, blocking our path with a cruel, satisfied smile. “I knew you’d run. That’s why I waited here. See how well I know you?” Mom didn’t want any trouble. She picked me up and tried to walk past her, but several rough-looking men stepped out from the darkness, surrounding us. Amber’s eyes gleamed with malice as she stepped closer. “Do you remember these men, Meredith? You’re the one who rescued me from them in the first place.” “They made me a whore, and you took me into your home like a saint. You’re just too good to be true, aren’t you?” Mom held me tighter, her body tense. “What do you want, Amber?” Amber let out a sharp, cold laugh. “I want you to become exactly like me. That way, Wes won’t look at you like you’re some pure, untouchable angel anymore.” “I wonder what Wes will think when he gets here and finds you stripped and ruined in the dirt?” Her eyes shifted slowly toward me, a twisted grin spreading across her face. “Little Gemma is so small, but even little girls have a certain sweetness to them, don’t they?” Mom’s eyes went wild with terror. She pulled a small utility knife from her pocket, her fingers trembling violently. “Get back! Touch her and I will kill you!” It was the hunting knife Dad had given her years ago. I buried my face in Mom’s neck, crying in terror as the men laughed, closing the circle around us. I felt a cold, greasy hand brush against my cheek. Mom screamed, swinging the knife blindly into the air. A man cried out, clutching his arm, and curses filled the snowy air. Mom didn’t stop, slashing frantically to keep them away. Suddenly, Mom’s back hit a solid wall of chest. A familiar, stern voice boomed from above us. “Meredith! When are you going to stop this madness!” Amber was already on the ground, curled in a patch of blood-stained snow. She clutched her stomach, a tragic, fragile smile on her face. “Don’t blame sister… she saved my life once… if she wants to destroy me like this, I accept it…” “But my baby… he was so small… he hadn’t even kicked yet…” Dad looked down at Mom, his voice colder than the ice beneath our feet. “Meredith, you’d better pray to God that Amber’s baby survives.” He scooped Amber into his arms and ran toward the clinic. He ran so fast, never noticing that Mom’s hand was deeply gashed, blood dripping onto the snow. I dragged Mom to the clinic myself. The nurse on duty stitched her wound with brutal, careless tugs, making the skin tear further. I tried to blow on Mom’s hand to ease the pain, glaring at the nurse. “Listen here, you little brat,” the nurse snapped, wrapping the bandage roughly. “I’m doing your home-wrecking mother a favor just by stitching her up.” Mom immediately covered my ears, her voice sharp and cold. “Apologize to my daughter.” The nurse rolled her eyes, pointing toward the private recovery room down the hall. “Engineer Wesley and Amber are legally married. Their child is the legitimate one here. A mistress should learn to keep her head down instead of demanding respect.” Dad stood in the doorway, his eyes softening slightly as he saw the blood soaking through Mom’s fresh bandage. He sighed, walking over to gently re-wrap her hand. “Thank God Amber is going to be okay. But we can’t just let this go.” “There’s been a leak of proprietary blueprints from the design office. The ministry is investigating. I need you to take the blame for Amber.” Mom froze, staring at him as if he had struck her. “You want me to take the fall for Amber?” Dad frowned, his tone matter-of-fact. “Amber is young; a security mark on her record will ruin her career forever. But you… you’re a housewife. It won’t affect you. I’ll still provide for you and take care of you.” Tears streamed down Mom’s face, burning her cheeks. “And what about Gemma? She can’t have a mother with a criminal record! She’ll never be allowed to go to school!” Dad wiped her tears away, remaining silent for a long moment. “Don’t worry. I’ll have Amber legally adopt Gemma. That way, her records stay clean.” Mom went completely rigid. When she realized what he was saying, she lunged forward, wrapping her arms around me in a desperate, suffocating grip. “Amber sent those men to hurt us! I was only protecting my child!” “I didn’t steal any data! You can’t take my baby away!” From the recovery room, Amber’s weak voice drifted out. “If sister doesn’t want to, forget it, Wes… I don’t want to make things hard for you…” The horn of an official vehicle honked outside the clinic. After a moment of hesitation, Dad stepped forward and began tearing me from Mom’s arms. “It’s just a routine inquiry, Meredith. They just need to ask you some questions.” I screamed for Mom, kicking and scratching at Dad’s face. Two security officers came in and dragged Mom out, her knees scraping hard against the gravel driveway, leaving a smeared trail of blood. She wept, crying out into the cold night air. “I didn’t do it! I swear I didn’t!” “Gemma! My baby!” “Wesley, I hate you! I hate you!” The security vehicle sped away into the dark. It didn’t return until three days later. But Mom didn’t come back. Only the plant director did. He looked at Dad, who was currently sitting with his arm wrapped around Amber, and hesitated. Dad’s eyes fell to the white shirt the director was holding. It was the shirt Mom had been wearing when she was taken. It was stiff with dried mud and stained with dark, heavy blood. The smile died on Dad’s face, his heart leaping into his throat. “Meredith’s transport vehicle was caught in a flash mudslide on the mountain road. She died on impact.” “These are her belongings. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
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