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墨書 Inktalez
"Baby, don't be sad. Is it all my fault? But I see the boss is never home, and I know you must feel lonely... Come here, let me give you a hug..."
This seemingly honest man had such a way with words that it made me feel nauseous.
...
I stumbled down the stairs, lost in thought as I stepped outside, wandering aimlessly through the dark night. It took me half the night to walk back to school, and then I fell ill, mumbling incoherently, repeatedly calling out, "Dad, I'm scared!"
The school called my mom to come pick me up and take me to the doctor.
I knew everything, and my mom knew that I knew everything.
From that moment on, my grades plummeted.
My mom knelt down and pleaded with me, "Daughter, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for what happened to your dad... Can you forgive me? I can't lose you, I can't lose your dad, and I can't lose our family."
I lay there staring blankly at the ceiling, not saying a word.
My mom began to slap her own face repeatedly. "I really know I've made a mistake; I won't do it again! Please! Say something! If anything happens to you, how will I live?"
I weakly reached out my hand. "Mom, please stop. Just let them go; it can just be us two at home from now on!"
She agreed over and over again, "I'll do whatever you say."
Mom called Dad: "Lao Zhuang, Qiuya misses you; she's sick..."
Dad was in Beijing negotiating a big project but flew back immediately. The three of us went out for hot pot and watched a movie together. My mom's worries slowly faded as I began to enjoy myself.
If only it could stay like this forever; let the past remain in the past, I told myself.
Three days later, Dad was off again for work.
Mom drove me to school herself: "Daughter, from now on I'll cook and do housework myself; I'll pick you up and drop you off..."
I understood what Mom was trying to say. I was willing to accept that it was all just a nightmare; now that I had awakened from it, everything was behind us.
School was out for summer vacation, and when classes resumed, I would be entering my second year of high school.
Mom signed me up for a ten-day study trip to Australia. The night before we left, I playfully asked if I could sleep with her. Lying on her bed, I hugged her while we talked. But it was only a little past seven in the evening when she started yawning and looking tired. I told her to get some rest, but she insisted she couldn't sleep. Then she said she needed to take a shower and took quite some time in the bathroom, leaving me without much energy for conversation.
When Mom finally emerged from the bathroom, there was a special fragrance in the room that lulled me to sleep.
Since we had an early flight to catch, I woke up at five in the morning to get ready. Surprisingly, Mom seemed more energetic than me; she prepared breakfast with enthusiasm and helped load my suitcase into the trunk.
Throughout the drive, she reminded me not to stray from the group and to take care of myself—her chatter felt warm and comforting.
Motherly love and filial piety, how wonderful it is.
During those days abroad, I called my mom via video almost every day: "Mom, be good at home and remember to think of me!"
She seemed very happy.
When I returned from Australia, my flight landed after ten at night. I wanted to surprise her, so I didn’t call; instead, I took a taxi home from the airport.
I quietly opened the door and tiptoed upstairs, but just as I reached her door, I froze.
There was a man’s voice coming from her room.
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