“Do you know what your mother has been through all these years? How could you say such things to her?”

Those same words again. Because of me, because she suffered postpartum depression.

So ever since I was a child, everyone in my family tried not to upset Mom. They always told me to give in to her no matter what.

As her daughter, I wanted to and would give Mom her happiness. I tried hard enough, so many times, so why do they still treat me like this?

Why? My questioning made Mom stop. But Grandma’s words only made Mom even angrier.

Mom broke free from Dad and Grandma, ran toward me and pushed me hard.

I was caught off guard and fell to the floor. Behind me was my bag, the one with the box cutter I always carried.

The sharp blade cut into my lower back. I couldn’t move.

Still not satisfied, Mom kicked me again and again. Each kick drove the blade deeper.

I wanted to beg Mom to stop, but the heavy feeling of being unable to breathe kept me from saying a word.

Maybe seeing my face grow paler stopped me from saying a word.

Dad suddenly shouted, "Enough! Enough!"

Mom stopped and looked at him in shock.

"You're protecting her? You're really protecting her? Fine! Then I’ll die! I’ll make space for you two!”

The next moment, before anyone could move, Mom ran out of my room and rushed toward the balcony railing at the end of the hallway.

A loud bang rang out and the world fell silent as everyone froze in shock.

Grandma was the first to move, crying out in pain, "My precious daughter!"

She was the first to run out of the room, with Dad and Grandpa right behind her.

No one even looked at me, still lying on the floor. I just listened to the screams and frantic voices from downstairs.

"Wife, wife!"

"Daughter, daughter!"

"Don’t be afraid, don’t be scared. Dad will take you to the hospital."

Soon, the noise faded and silence filled the house again.

I quietly watched the pool of blood beneath me spread wider, feeling the strength in my body slowly fade away.

Mom, this time, you got what you wanted. I would never disturb your life again.

In the best hospital ward in Brookdale, Mom’s ankle was wrapped in thick bandages.

After I stopped breathing, I realized my soul couldn’t leave Mom and Dad’s side. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t go anywhere. In the end, I gave up. It turned out that even in death, I wasn’t free.

Dad was peeling an apple for Mom. “You’re already an adult, yet you still act like a child.”

“Good thing our house only has two floors. You just sprained your ankle.”

“If something really happened to you, how would I live?”

Mom pouted, looking like a spoiled little girl. “Hmm, you’re the one who protected her.”

Grandma leaned against Grandpa, still holding her chest in fear. “You’re my only precious daughter. If anything had really happened to you, I’d die.”

“You even hurt yourself because of that useless girl.”

“You’re my life. Don’t ever do like that again.”

When I saw Grandma’s troubled face, I felt only jealousy.

Back when I was young, other kids had grandparents who picked them up, who always loved their grandchildren.

When I was little, I felt sad and ran to Grandma for comfort, but her eyes showed no warmth.

“Your Mom is my daughter. Because you’re her child, you’re my granddaughter.”

“But in my heart, my daughter will always come first. You made her suffer and I’ll never forgive you, even if you’re her child.”

At that moment, besides feeling sad, I also felt very jealous.

So, my mom’s mother really loved her, but why did my mom not love me?

Mom’s soft voice came again. “I don’t want to go back to that house. Just seeing her makes me upset. Let’s go back to our small villa outside the city.”

“Hurry up and ask someone to send her back to school!”

Dad gave Mom the peeled apple. “Alright, whatever you want.”

With the doctor's approval, Dad drove Mom, Grandpa and Grandma home.

However, it wasn’t the home I was going back to. When I saw the new villa, I felt confused and lost.

In the big house, there were large wedding photos of my parents and family pictures with Grandpa and Grandma, but there were none for me.

Mom sat comfortably on the sofa. “It feels so good here. This is my real home.”

Grandma gently picked up a blanket and placed it over Mom’s legs.

"Every time you don’t want to see her, you say Kevin is on a business trip and stayed here. You’re still the same after all these years, such a child.”

Grandma’s words were gentle, but they hit me hard.

Ever since I was little, Dad has often gone on business trips. Whenever he was away, Grandpa and Grandma took Mom back to the countryside.

They didn’t come home until Dad’s trip was over, sometimes two weeks, sometimes a month, or even longer.

Those business trips were really just excuses for all of them to stay away from me.

Dad sat silently, staring at his phone.

On the screen was our chat.

[Hazel, Mom and Dad can’t come home tonight. Remember to lock the door.]

[Hazel, are you asleep?]

I didn’t reply. That had never happened before.

Any message from Dad, no matter what it was, no matter what I was doing, I always replied immediately.

Maybe Dad didn’t even realize it, but his hand was shaking as he held the phone. He stood up, walked to the balcony and called his secretary.

“Go to my house right now and check.”

“Is my daughter at home?”

As soon as the call ended, Mom appeared behind him.

“Who are you calling?”

“Was it that brat, Hazel?”

Dad quickly put his phone away and forced a smile. “It’s the secretary.”

“Didn’t you ask me to send her back to school soon? I told my secretary to handle it tomorrow. Don't overthink it.

After hearing Dad’s explanation, Mom looked much happier. "That's better."

Dad let out a relieved sigh and helped Mom to the sofa to sit. After a moment, his phone rang.

He answered, only to hear the secretary's trembling voice.

“Mr. Vargas, Miss Hazel… is dead.”