There were a bunch of colorful pill containers, but I couldn't recognize a single one of them.

I looked left, then right, but none of them seemed to be painkillers.

Ms. Woodard noticed my scrunched-up face and quickly asked with a smile, "Penny, dear, why are you digging through the medicine storage box?"

Looking up at her, I asked, "Ms. Woodard, which one is the painkiller?"

At my words, Ms. Woodard instantly tensed up. She hurriedly scooped me up from the floor, feeling my forehead and palms in concern.

"What's wrong, dear? Are you feeling unwell?"

I shook my head meekly. "I'm not sick, but my daughter's birthday is today. I need to send her some painkillers!"

Thinking that I was talking about one of my dolls, Ms. Woodard gently corrected me. "Sweetheart, we eat cake on birthdays, not painkillers."

Hearing that, I smacked my head in sudden realization. Right! I shouldn't just be giving my daughter painkillers for her birthday. I should give her a cake and some candy, too.

That way, the medicine wouldn't taste so bad.

Without delay, I asked Ms. Woodard to order a cute little cake for me. Though she had no idea what I was up to, she went ahead and placed the order anyway.

I chose an adorable bunny cake, bought two boxes of painkillers for my daughter, then grabbed some of my favorite toffee—the ones I had been saving and couldn't bear to eat myself.

I placed everything in a pretty pink bag and had the delivery guy take it to my daughter's school.

"My dear sweetheart, I prepared lots of gifts for you. Remember to eat a piece of candy after your medicine so it won't leave a bad taste in your mouth. Happy birthday!"

After the delivery was made, I asked the delivery guy, "Sir, is my daughter okay?"

He let out a small sigh.

"That young lady is covered in bruises. It's as if she's been abused. Her clothes are covered in patches, too. She looks so pale and pitiful."

The more I listened to his words, the more my heart ached. After all, what mother wouldn't worry about her daughter?

Soon after, my daughter sent me a picture of her eating the cake. She texted, "Thank you. This is the first time I've had cake on my birthday since my mom passed away. It's really good, and the candy is very sweet."

"It's okay, sweetheart. From now on, I will make sure you have cake on every birthday!"

"Thank you, Mom," came her reply.

I cheerfully picked up my phone and started searching the internet for tips on raising a daughter.

According to what I read online, a daughter should be brought up in luxury and be given the most wonderful things in the world.

As I bobbed my head in sudden enlightenment, my gaze settled on the pink piggy bank in the corner of my room.

…

When Mom walked into my room with a strawberry milkshake in hand, I was busy smashing my beloved piggy bank with a tiny hammer.

The coins rolled and bounced across the carpet like popping candy. Bending down, I picked them up one at a time.

"This one will be for buying candy for my daughter… This one will be for a pretty dress… I'll use this one to buy her the newest toy available… And this one will be for Dad so that he'll teach that stepmom of hers a lesson!"

Leaning against the wall, Mom smiled as she watched me mumble to myself.

"Penny, sweetheart, why did you smash your favorite piggy bank? Is there a new toy you want to buy?"

I hugged her excitedly, exclaiming, "I have a daughter now. Of course I have to take care of her!"

Mom looked shocked by my words. "When did you get a daughter?"

I showed her my phone proudly, pointing at the screen full of messages. "I found her myself. She's a pitiful thing who doesn't have a mom and gets bullied by her stepmom."

"I read online that raising a daughter costs a lot of money. I'll have to work hard in the future!"

Mom looked at me without a word. She then patiently explained, "Sweetheart, there are many bad people in this world. Not everyone will love you the way Mom and Dad do. What if the person on the other end is a scammer?"

I refused to believe that. "No way. If she were a scammer, she'd definitely ask for lots and lots of presents. But my daughter only asked me for a single painkiller. Her mom left her. If I, her new mom, don't take care of her, she'll be bullied to death by her stepmom!"

Mom sighed. "That won't happen. The police will help her."

I shook my head as hard as I could. "The police can't help everyone. Besides, I'm her mom. I will protect her!"

As soon as Dad came in and heard my words, his briefcase slipped from his hand and fell to the floor with a loud clatter.

"What? Our sweetheart is a mom now? But you're still so young, dear. You can't even tie your own shoelaces yet—"

"I don't have to know how to tie shoelaces to be a mom!" Tilting my head, I argued, "All I have to do as a mom is wipe away my daughter's tears, share my sweets with her, and…"

Standing on my tiptoes, I kissed Mom and Dad on the cheeks. "And telling her I love her a hundred times every single day! I believe I can be a really good mom!"

At a loss for words, Mom and Dad sighed softly. "Alright, then. We believe you can be a good mom. But we still have to make sure you're safe, so we'll have to run a background check on that girl…"

I didn't understand what they were talking about, but what I did know was that they would definitely like my daughter, too, with how well-behaved and nice she was.

That night, my daughter sent me a photo. I couldn't see much of it as it was taken in a pitch-black attic.

Still, I could see a thin comforter spread across the icy floor. "This is where I sleep every night."

Seeing how dark and gloomy the attic was, I felt my heart ache.

I turned to snap a picture of the starry night lights stretching across my room. "Don't be afraid, sweetheart. I'll share my lights with you next time!"

Smiling, she replied, "Okay!"

She then sent me another photo. It was an old, faded family portrait in which she was smiling brightly. The woman holding her was also very beautiful. On the woman's ear was a little mole that was very visible.

I scrambled out of bed and looked in the mirror at my own ear.

Then, I turned to Mom proudly. "Look, Mom! I have the same mole as my daughter's mom!"

I made sure to snap a picture of my ear before texting, "My grandpa told me that when people pass away, they bring a gift with them when they return to this world. See, the mole on my ear looks exactly like your mom's!"

After what felt like forever, my daughter finally replied, "Then, will you always be here for me, Mom?"

"Of course!"

This was nothing like the make-believe games I used to play because from this moment onward, I truly had a daughter. And I would always be there for her.

That evening, Grandpa and Grandma transferred some money to me.

I didn't hesitate to transfer the money to my daughter.

Shocked, she asked, "Why did you send me money?"

I answered, "Because you're my daughter! Moms are supposed to give their daughters allowances!"

She returned the transfer right away.

The chat box showed she was typing, but it took a long time before her message finally came through.

"Thank you, but I really can't take your money. My dad works on a ship. He pays my tuition and living expenses on time. And I can eat at school…"

My daughter continued, "Mom, you just have to be there for me every day and listen to what I have to say. That's all I need."

My eyes grew hot as I suddenly realized how mature and thoughtful my daughter was.

"Okay. Then you can tell me anything from now on!"

Suddenly, my phone buzzed. Looking at the incoming call from my daughter, I started feeling at a loss.

If she knew I was only five years old, would she no longer let me be her mom?

After much thought, I still chose to answer the call.

On the other end of the line came the sound of rainwater pattering on the floor and a young lady's voice. "Hello. Thank you for agreeing to be there for me in my mom's place."

Though I tried to deepen my voice, the sweet, high-pitched tone slipped out anyway. "That's what mommies are supposed to do!"

Her voice trembled slightly. "Thank you. At the moment, you're the only one willing to keep me company besides Ollie."

I tilted my head to one side. "Who's Ollie?"

"She's the cat my mom used to keep. She's nine now, so she's an old cat."

As she spoke, she took a picture of her cat and sent it to me.

The orange tabby cat in the picture was round and chubby, but the tips of its fur had gone a little gray. It was clear that it was getting on in years.

I exclaimed in delight, "Wow, what a cute little kitty! Now that you have me and the kitty by your side, you shouldn't be sad anymore!"

"Alright. I won't be sad."

And so, every night, we talked on the phone. My daughter would share the funny things that happened at school and tell me how growing up was a joyful yet challenging journey.

I would then pick up the new storybooks Mom had just bought me and read her the stories.

Dad and Mom stood at my bedroom door, looking a little jealous.

Shaking their heads, they sighed helplessly. "I knew it. Once our daughter has her own child, she won't care about us anymore!"

"Sweetheart, are you not sleeping with Mom again tonight?"

I looked up at them and exclaimed, "Mom, my daughter's name is Abigail Sanford. Her name is so pretty! It sounds like the name of a sweet little princess!"

Dad nodded in resignation. "Yeah, it is. And your daughter is much better than mine."

Pouting, I retorted, "Your daughter's not bad either!"

But after that, everything began to change.

For three nights in a row, I would lie sprawled on the ground, waiting in anticipation for my precious daughter's call.

Yet, no calls came. I did not even receive the usual texts I would usually receive daily.

A feeling of dread started to creep into my heart.

Could something have happened to her?

Just as I was anxiously trying to figure out what to do, a sudden message popped up on my screen.

"Help me!"

I quickly shook Mom and Dad awake, crying out in worry, "Mom, Dad, Abigail is in danger! Let's go save her!"

…

This was my first time coming to the neighborhood where my daughter lived.

Even though it was already late at night, a crowd had gathered around the building. People had smiles on their faces as if watching a spectacle.

"Did you hear? Abby's stepmom tried to set her up on a blind date with an old man! Abby refused, so her stepmom tossed the cat out the apartment window!"

"That's a stepmother for you—truly vicious! I don't know what Abby's dad was thinking, bringing an outsider home to look after his child!"

"So what? Her dad's a sailor who's gone at sea all year long. Who's going to meddle in their family business with him not around?"

In the middle of the crowd, a thin, frail young lady was clutching a bleeding cat tightly in her arms.

Looking around helplessly, she begged the crowd for help.