I twisted my ankle and fell to my knees with the wine in my arms. My knees hurt terribly, but I didn't dare loosen my grip on the wine. Not even one bottle in this crate could I afford to break.

A flicker of complicated emotion flashed through Andre's eyes, then came his mocking words, "Josephine, you're just as cheap as your mother. Does she know you're here serving drinks?"

I limped back home and Cedric, my son, was still fast asleep.

Unlike when I left, now he was tightly hugging my pajamas, his little face buried in them, as if that was his only sense of safety.

A wave of bitterness rose in my chest. I leaned down and kissed his little face. Back then, everyone told me to abort the baby. But I didn't.

I was filled with hatred toward Andre, to the point I lost all reason. I wanted to give birth to the child and use him to torment Andre and then, years later, once he was married, I'd bring the child to him.

By then, his peaceful life would be completely turned upside down by me. I thought, if I couldn't have peace, neither should he.

But later, when the child was actually born, I just couldn't bring myself to hurt him. He was soft and squishy and every time he cried, my heart felt like it was being torn apart.

As he grew a little older, he would hug my legs, look up with innocent eyes and call me in that sweet voice, "Mommy." In those moments, all my hatred seemed to melt away.

So I changed his name from Aiden Hillsmith to Cedric Whiteley. What sin had an innocent child committed?

I no longer wanted to push him toward Andre. I wanted to hide him away and protect him from all harm and pain. But fate liked to play cruel jokes.

When Cedric was four, he was diagnosed with leukemia and had to go to the hospital regularly for blood transfusions.

The high cost of treatment had already drained my parents' savings and Cedric himself had grown thin and frail from the countless procedures. Life's suffering hadn't spared him, or me.

As I touched Cedric's thin cheeks, for the first time, I thought about sending him away.

Andre now looked like he had money and after all, no one's bone marrow would match better than a biological relative's. But … would he really be willing to save Cedric?

He hated me so much, hated my mom so much, would that hatred extend to Cedric too? I didn't dare gamble.

With that anxiety, I slowly closed my eyes. Ever since Mom died, I had nightmares every night, tonight was no exception.

Maybe it was because I had seen Andre again, but the images in my dream were especially vivid.

I was back on the day of the proposal, standing beneath the big screen, waiting for Andre's surprise. But he never came.

What came instead was a video suddenly playing on the big screen, drawing a crowd of onlookers.

I stared at those scenes and waves of humiliation, shame and disgrace all crashed over me. The stares from the crowd were like knives, stabbing countless bloody holes in me.

As my breathing grew more rapid, I heard the voices of my teachers and classmates.

"Josephine, given your current situation, the school believes it's best you take a break from your studies."

"Look, that's the girl. Pretty face, wild behavior, completely chaotic private life."

"Hehehe, do you think if I chase her, she'd sleep with me too?"

"So dirty. How did someone like her get into our school? She's a disgrace to all students."

"Sigh, we studied hard for twelve years to get into this top university and now the school's reputation is ruined by someone like her. One bad apple spoils the whole barrel."

…

"No, it's not like that, we're …" My mind was pushed to the brink. I held my head and frantically denied it.

Suddenly, a loud crash sounded behind me, cutting off my words.

I turned around and saw my mother, covered in blood, hanging upside down inside the car.

She slowly reached out to me, her lips endlessly murmuring my name, "Josephine, Josephine, don't be scared …"

"Mom!" I jolted awake in terror, my chest still tight and trembling. This nightmare had haunted me for nine years.

Cedric clung to my neck, his cold little face pressed against mine, "Mommy, don't be scared. Cedric is here. I will always be with Mommy."

My reason slowly returned. I hugged his tiny body back, my voice hoarse, "Yes … with you here, Mommy's not afraid."

But his next words nearly made my heart stop, "Mommy, Grandpa seems to have fallen in the bathroom."

I rushed into the bathroom and the scene before me made my eyes burn with fury. My father's colostomy bag had burst, feces and urine scattered everywhere.

The wheelchair had toppled over nearby. He was lying in the filth, struggling to get up, his fingernails torn.

I rushed in, "Dad, didn't I say? If you need anything, just call me, okay?"

"You get out, don't look. Get out …" he stuttered.

I didn't listen to him. Though he was ashamed, I still removed his clothes piece by piece, cleaned him up and attached a new bag.

As I tended to the wounds on his fingernails, his eyes reddened with tears, "If only I could join your mother sooner, you'd have one less burden."

My hand paused as I applied the medicine and I forced the tears back down, "Dad, I already lost Mom. I can't lose you too."

His expression grew even more sorrowful. His trembling right hand reached out, trying to touch my right ear, "It's my fault. I failed you."

I pressed his hand against my face and forced a natural smile, "It's okay, Dad. I still have one ear that can hear. It's no problem."

After finishing the treatment, I had Cedric wheel him out to the balcony to see the flowers and get some fresh air, while I went to clean the bathroom.

Once the door was shut, I leaned against the wall and let my body slide down in exhaustion.

Yesterday, Andre asked me, "Does your mother know you're a bar girl now?"

I wanted to know too, was my mom watching all of this from heaven? Would she blame me? But I had no choice. After my father's stroke left him paralyzed, he couldn't be left alone. Cedric's treatments needed constant money.

A 'bad girl' like me, expelled in my first year of college and half-deaf, how many jobs would hire me? All I could choose was nightlife work. The hours fit and the pay was fast.

I once struggled for dignity. I once slapped a boss I couldn't bear. But dignity didn't pay the bills and it didn't cure Cedric's illness. Instead, I had to forfeit half a year's wages just to compensate that boss.

After that day, I forced myself to endure, numbing myself like an emotionless machine.

What's wrong with a touch? What's wrong with a kiss? If it could save my dad and Cedric, I'd even jump myself to the sea.

I never wanted to collapse in tears at the nurse's station again just because I couldn't afford the fees while Cedric was having an attack.

I kept telling myself, I have to make a lot of money. I have to send my dad to the best rehabilitation center. I have to get Cedric a bone marrow transplant, so he can grow up healthy.

But that dream … felt forever out of reach.

That night, someone held me on his lap and forced me to drink.

The manager walked in with a smile, saying something urgent had come up.

The man reluctantly groped my thigh before letting me go. As soon as I stepped outside, I was met with Andre's cold face.

He grabbed me and dragged me into a private room, throwing me onto the sofa, "You're this cheap? Letting those men grope you however they want?"

"So what? Isn't this how I make a living? If Mr. Hillsmith has nothing else, I'd like to go back, my tip isn't in yet." I propped myself up and opened the door. But his hand came from behind, slamming the door shut again.

I didn't look back, but he forced me to turn around and face him, "How much do you make a month here? I'll pay double. Come with me."

We were standing close, too close. Our posture was intimate, so close he could kiss me just by lowering his head.

Back when we were in love, he used to pin me against the door like this and kiss me until we couldn't bear to part.

Back then, I was blissfully shy. Now, I couldn't stand him even being so close.

I pushed him away, full of sarcasm, "What now? You don't hate me anymore, huh?"

Andre lowered his eyes, emotion unreadable.

I bit my lip, suddenly thinking of Cedric. I wondered, if his hatred wasn't so deep … could he help Cedric?

But before I could even test the waters, the door opened just a crack.

A sweet voice called through the gap, "Honey, what are you doing in there? Mr. Lachey and the others are looking for you."

"Nothing, I'm just taking a call." Andre glanced at me and gave a gentle smile toward the door. He reached out to open it wider and I leaned against the wall as he walked out.

I lowered my head and let out a bitter laugh. Looks like I miscalculated.

Even if he were single, he might not be willing to help Cedric, let alone now, when he already had a wife and family.

I stayed in the room for a long time, exhaling a heavy breath before returning to drift from room to room. I worked until dawn, my legs trembling with exhaustion.

Just as I stepped out of the club, a Lincoln suddenly stopped beside me. "Get in." The window rolled down, revealing Andre's icy face as usual.

"Sorry, Mr. Hillsmith. I don't do business outside the club." I rejected him coldly and turned to leave.

He drove the car forward, blocking my path.

I was about to lash out when he suddenly opened the door, got out and forcefully dragged me in.

Slamming the door shut, he stepped on the gas. The car flew so fast it felt like he wanted to die with me. The car screeched to a stop in front of our old apartment building.

I practically fled from the vehicle and collapsed at the edge of a flower bed, retching.

Andre's voice came from behind me, "Josephine, I hate you. How could I not hate you? I wish I could drag you down with me. That's why … I won't let you off easily."

"If you're already selling yourself, why not sell to me? I'll pay more than any of them, right?" he mocked.

I wiped my mouth and started laughing, "Andre, even if I really sell myself, even if it's to anyone, it would never be to you. You want me to beg like a dog? Keep dreaming."

Andre grabbed my chin, his eyes burning with fury. "What's wrong with begging me? You can do it for all those men, but not for me? And don't forget, you've done it before. Did you forget how you moaned under me nine years ago?"

"Andre!" The moment he brought up the past, my anger boiled over. I slapped him hard across the face.