Chapter 3

I wasn’t actually asleep.

Her footsteps were light, but insomnia had kept me tossing and turning. The sheer hatred in her eyes earlier had terrified me. I had spent hours wondering what she was going to do.

So when she walked up to my bed with the scissors glinting in the dark, a sick wave of relief washed over me.

The sword hanging over my neck had finally dropped.

Relief—followed immediately by crushing, suffocating grief.

We shared the same blood. Why did she hate me so much? Other mothers took pride in dressing their daughters up. To my mother, my youth and beauty were a cardinal sin.

I didn't move. I wept in total silence while the blades severed chunk after chunk of my hair.

The next morning, my eyes were swollen shut.

Mom stood in the kitchen and burst out laughing at my mangled, butchered head.

“Cry! Go ahead and cry! Seeing you fuss over that stupid hair made me sick anyway. Look at you now—problem solved!” She smirked victoriously, then turned to Leo with a bright, cheerful voice. “It’s Saturday, baby! Want to go to the mall with Mommy?”

Leo rubbed his eyes, whining, “Shopping with you is boring…”

“Mommy will buy you those designer sneakers you wanted! The ones your friends have!”

Leo’s eyes instantly lit up. “Promise? Cross your heart?”

“Cross my heart!”

Mom turned to Dad, batting her eyelashes. “Honey, it’s the weekend. Come with us? You haven't taken me out in forever~”

Dad frowned, grabbing his briefcase. “I have to head into the office. And drop that baby voice, will you? You’re not twenty anymore.”

Mom’s face froze. “I’ve always talked like this. What are you saying? You think I’m old?”

Dad answered by slamming the front door shut.

Mom’s bottom lip trembled. She looked ready to cry. But when her eyes landed on me standing in the corner, her humiliation instantly transformed into violent rage. She grabbed a heavy couch pillow and hurled it directly at my face.

“This is all your fault! If I hadn't ruined my body having you, I’d still look like a college girl! He wouldn't treat me like this! You stretched out my skin, you gave me hair loss, and now you have the nerve to flaunt yourself in front of me?!”

“From now on, you’re never growing your hair out again. Every time an inch grows, I’ll chop it right off!”

Her words stung worse than slaps.

I couldn’t even find the words to fight back. I stood there, taking it all.

No matter how cruel she was, she was still my mother. She gave me life. She raised me. Compared to my cold, detached father, I had always subconsciously craved her love.

“Mom… about Dad…” I choked out.

“Shut up! Just because a man gave you a compliment doesn't mean you're special! Look in the mirror, you ugly little freak! I was ten times prettier than you when I was your age!”

She spun around to Leo, changing her tone in a heartbeat. “Leo, baby, tell Mommy. Who’s prettier? Her or me?”

Eight-year-old Leo hesitated, looking between my butchered hair and her heavily powdered face. “Mommy is prettier.”

A triumphant smile finally broke across her face. She planted a loud kiss on Leo’s cheek. “That’s my good boy! Come on, let’s go get your new kicks!”

Seeing my tear-streaked face seemed to satisfy her cruelty. Urged on by Leo’s impatient tugging, she finally left.

I collapsed onto the sofa, my chest heaving with cold dread.

There was a secret I had been keeping. A secret that would shatter her world. And I had no idea how to tell her.